Sleep came slow, and sudden. One moment, Iliana had her face buried in one of the two, downy pillows she'd been provided as tears silently disappeared into the fabric, and in the next, she was out. How long she slept was impossible to track. Her next flash of awareness came in the form of a muffled scream into her still-damp pillow.

She jerked near upright, body taut as a wire. Her heart raced, eyes burning. She must have thrashed and twisted while dreaming, because her actions had left her tangled in the thin sheets. Her eyes searched the room, looking for the bodies that'd haunted her nightmares. What she found froze her gasps to a shocked nothing.

The disorientation that came with waking suddenly was the only thing that kept her from shouting at the sight of a man standing in the center of the cabin.

His dusty brown hair was cut short, and he had dark gray irises that seemed to bore past her eyes and into her mind. His gaze sent a shiver down her spine, as did the fact that she soon realized she could almost see right through him. There was a strange, translucent-like appearance to his body. She saw him, square jaw, toned body, rugged clothing and all, but she had the distinct, strange feeling that she could also just barely see the door behind him.

Was he a soul?

It was said that those who died in remote areas sometimes wondered for months before they were collected by a reaper. Humans, like her, were normally ignorant to the presence of souls, beyond the occasional shiver or feeling of being watched. Cold fear brushed her mind at the thought. Had something happened while she slept? Has the sirens lied about her injury being nothing more than a bump?

Iliana shook her head, casting off the idea. Sleep was making her mind slow, she decided. After all, she had also heard of those who'd come close to death being able to see the truly dead. Perhaps nearly drowning counted? Just because she could see what was potentially a dead person in the middle of her room didn't give her a reason to panic.

She was fine. This was... fine.

"Who--what are you?"

The man's eyes widened. Was it the tremble in her voice, she wondered, or her ability to see him that he hadn't expected? Iliana might have asked, but his eyes suddenly narrowed into that intense, bone chilling stare he'd originally worn. The temperature in the room plunged as he suddenly closed the distance between them.

She couldn't move.

Her heart raced, nervousness flooding her system. Some instinct told her that this soul had no intention of harming her--if he even could--but that didn't stop her thoughts from spinning, nor ease the fear freezing her in place. There was something other to the air. Was he causing this unease?

He stopped next to her, his fingers raised as if to catch her chin. Those steely eyes slowly skimmed her from head to toe, searching for something. His lips moved, but no words met her ears. Iliana forced herself past her fear and frowned. She could see, but not hear him? Did it have something to do with his being a soul? Or was it this village?

Either way, the ability to read lips wasn't one she possessed.

"I can't understand you," she said. "Could you spell it out? On the bed, or in the air perhaps?"

Iliana would've searched for parchment, but doubted it would do them any good. The way his fingers ghosted through her chin gave Iliana the impression he wouldn't have been able to grasp the quil to write with.

As all of this drifted through her mind, Iliana realized she'd become eerily calm. Part of her knew that the feeling was unnatural. She should've been terrified. Did the sudden change in emotions have something to do with him? Or had it simply been muffled by her distaste for anything that might draw attention to her cabin?

She should have screamed, or scrambled off the other side of the bed. If she cried out, the sound would catch the attention of one or more sirens. Gods' children were said to have better senses than their human counterparts. Someone would hear her, and come to her rescue, whether she truly needed rescuing or not. But that would mean interacting with the sirens.

Even half-asleep and terrified, she was reluctant.

Instead, Iliana watched as he studied her for a moment longer, then pulled his hand away. He swept it through the air, miming four characters.

"Aran," she said.

He nodded.

Then, he disappeared.

Dumbfounded, she stared at the empty air for a long time, rerunning the encounter through her mind. Even as the seconds, minutes, then hours ticked by, she couldn't make any more sense of it than she initially had. Eventually, Iliana tried to rest. Predictably, her mind had no intention of calming down enough for sleep to take her.

She could still picture him perfectly. His tall frame, his tanned skin, everything about him seemed burned into her memory.

Perhaps he wasn't a soul.

Iliana had once heard that if the living saw a reaper, they would never forget it. Legend said that something about their presence alone was so unsettling that the experience stayed with you forever. Most blamed it on the reason for their existence.

Unlike most of the gods' children, reapers were made for a reason that went beyond rescuing a dying mortal.

They were among some of the original children to be made. Second to only the sirens, Iliana was almost certain. As the world had grown, and the number of souls in existence climbed, it became hard for the dead to be guided by Shinnah alone. As a result, despite the goddess believing that the children races were unnatural, the reapers were granted a second chance at a semblance of life. In return, they were tasked with collecting, and returning, dead souls to the goddess.

The stories said that even after being reborn into a new body, souls never forget the feeling of being ripped from their past lives. Which was why encountering them was something unsettling, and memorable.

Aran being a reaper would also explain why she'd frozen up. While it seemed unlikely, she slowly realized that it made more sense that he was a child rather than a soul. Which spurred the question: What was a reaper doing in the cabin? Why was he staring at her?

Why had he given her his name?

The possibilities surged through her mind, sending chills down her spine.

Once again, the thought that she could have died in the water and not realized it passed through her. Did souls know they were souls? Or did they wander, thinking they were alive, till a reaper broke the news? She'd heard stories of spirits haunting inhabited homes and derelict ships, lost for years before a reaper found them. She'd always been skeptical, but what if it was true? What if she was just a wandering soul?

Or, alternatively, what if she was alive but had attracted his attention regardless? That wasn't a comforting thought.

Suddenly, Iliana needed to get out of the cabin, as unreasonable as it seemed. She needed to be away from where his fingers had ghosted her chin.

As she scrambled from the bed, Iliana sent a half-hearted thanks to the gods that the impulsive action hadn't left her collapsed on the floor. Her muscles complained, having grown stiff while she rested, but her knees no longer shook. Similarly, her head felt as if it'd been stuffed with cotton, and it spun as she moved, but it wasn't the harsh pain she'd felt since waking on the beach. Iliana's previous state must have been from exhaustion more than anything else.

She opened the door into someone's face.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!I didn't realize you would be..."

Rhode backed away as Iliana sputtered apologies. Both of the siren's hands covered her nose. Thankfully, she didn't seem irritated, her eyes reflecting nothing but surprise.

"You're up?" Rhode asked.

"Obviously," Iliana quipped, then paused. "Sorry, it's a habit."

Rhode shook her head and dropped her hands. Apparently, she had no issue with the sarcasm. Instead, she glanced past Iliana into the room, then looked back to her with a curious gaze.

"Where are you going?"

Iliana hesitated, attempting to pull up some excuse in her head. Saying she'd seen a strange spirit in her room didn't feel like it'd go over well. Rather, it was likely a sentence that would result in her being confined to the cabin with a babysitter given their stance on men. And, well, she wouldn't have blamed them. Iliana would probably have had the same reaction in their place. But, it also wasn't something she was willing to deal with.

"I... I wanted to go to explore," she said after a moment. "I need to think about... all of this, and the room felt too crowded. I need to be alone somewhere not here."

Rhode knitted her brows. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. There are the nightmares, for one. And if you collapse..."

"I'm fine," Iliana reassured her. Her thoughts raced, searching for a way to convince Rhode. "What if I head to the cliffs? It would be like exploring. I'd get a decent view of the island, and if I collapse, you'll know where to look when I don't return."

Her logic seemed to do little to reassure Rhode, but after a second of hesitation, the woman sighed.

"Well, I did say we have no constrictions. Just make sure you don't step off of the path, or stand too close to the edge. If you get lost, or fall, I'm not sure how long it would take to reach you."

"I won't," Iliana assured her.

"Then... go, I suppose. But, please turn back if the climb is too harsh."

Rhode stepped aside, and Iliana quickly moved towards the edge of the village before the siren could change her mind. Her head protested the speed, but it was easy to push the dizziness to the back of her mind. Coming across a few unknown sirens as she walked, she quizzed them about the best route to the cliffs. They gave her curious looks, but answered with clear directions.

As Iliana stepped through the willows, her mind returned to Aran.

Now she had two reasons to find a way out of here. The sirens' offer, and a reaper. Sure, he could be an alright guy, but she'd rather not hang her hopes on someone who could rip her soul from her body.

The hike through the forest was spent thinking about the different ways she could escape. A raft would get her killed. Constructing a decent boat might work, but it risked taking too long to finish. It would have to be strong, but small. Something that could fit through the narrow opening without being bashed to death against the rocks.

As Iliana flipped through mental images of different boats she'd seen while traveling, she finally arrived at the base of the cliffs. She wrinkled her nose while studying the steep climb she had ahead of her.

For around three hundred feet, the path was surrounded by greenery, but then it sputtered out as the ground changed from earth to stone. From there, it was a rapid incline that had her head aching at the sight alone. Iliana finally realized that perhaps her first thought might not have been the best escape route. Stubborn to a fault, however, she forced herself to stride forward.

Iliana wasn't out of shape by any means, but within a short time she'd been reduced to heavy breaths. The trek required both hands on occasion--as the cliff grew nearly vertical in one location, before evening out into a somewhat easier incline--and had her muscles screaming when she neared the top. By the time she finished climbing, the sun had risen to a pinnacle in the sky. The entire trip must have taken her around an hour to complete, most of it spent tackling the cliff.

As she caught her breath, she took a moment to study the view. The cliff held a good hundred, two hundred feet of flat rock ahead of her before it reached the edge. Beyond that, there was an equal amount of empty air before her eyes reached the matching cliffside that lined the cove. Ignoring Rhode's earlier warning, Iliana strode right up to the edge before sitting down, allowing her feet to dangle in open air.

She settled her hands behind her, rocks biting into her palms, and leaned back, eyes turning towards the sky. Her boat plans had halted when the climb became harsh, her mind unable to divert focus from the task at hand. Now, however, her thoughts had turned elsewhere.

For all her thoughts of escape, what would she do afterwards?

If her fears were true, Iliana was alone outside of the cove. She'd have to travel miles of ocean, and the closest country was foreign to her. Many people in Eol spoke Empor, the standard language of traders, but a good majority spoke Loen. If she could learn the language--and that was a big if given Iliana had never been great at anything requiring book learning--there'd be the question of money. Without a penny to her name, it wasn't as if she could hire a ship back to Aeolis.

And did she really want to go back?

All her home country offered her was the temptation of returning to her sister. Mara might have been clueless about the lies Kyril fed her, as well as the fear and pain he'd heaped upon Iliana, but she was the only family Iliana had left. Her elder sister had raised her after their mother's passing, and the pain that came from those memories was sometimes too much. Iliana couldn't think about her sister without wondering if there'd been a way to stay while still avoiding marriage.

If she hadn't feared for her life... If Mara had listened...

Iliana shook her head. What ifs and imaginary futures would do her little good. She needed to focus on the now, not on tangent possibilities.

Aeolis held nothing but pain, so staying in Eol, or settling elsewhere would be her best plan. Cieon and Reotak were out of the question. Their war was infamous, and refugees were often met in Eol. There were even those who'd sold themselves into a temporary slave contract to barter their way out of the dangerous lands. Iliana had no intentions of involving herself in all of that.

There was Letia. The small, mountainous country bordered Aeolis, but had long since been deemed part of Reotak's empire. She wasn't sure how long it could continue to avoid the conflict. Nubella--a large island country devoured by the empire ages ago--was the same.

She could try one of the other, smaller island kingdoms, but most of them tended to be secluded. Language would again become an issue. Plus, she had a feeling that when Reotak had finished with Cieon, they would still be hungry. Small, independent kingdoms would be prime real estate.

Perhaps staying in Eol was best. The country had pledged itself to neutrality centuries ago, and had managed to avoid any of the constant bloodshed that Ceion dealt with. Or, she could try and sign up with another merchant ship. Her gender was a challenge, however. Plenty of ships clung to old superstition, viewing women as bad luck aboard a ship. Then there were those who were simply biased, viewing her role in life much as her brother-in-law had. Women were meant to be married off and producing children, not working hard hours on the treacherous sea.

Continuing to conceal her gender was an option. But, without Kain's help... her mind pulled their last conversation up, unbidden. He hadn't been wrong. She was bound to be caught, eventually, and the next person might not be as kind as he had been.

Rhode's offer nudged Iliana's thoughts. She straightened, casting her gaze out over the endless ocean. While she disliked--no, hated--the idea of joining those who had indirectly caused the probable deaths of her crew, her family, at least the future they offered wasn't as uncertain the thoughts she'd been musing over. Tears threatened her eyes, and she forced them back again.

She had things to do. Iliana wouldn't--couldn't--waste time on grief. She could cry when a solution had been found, when a choice had been made, and an escape planned.

Iliana steeled herself, forcing the emotions back. Her mind began to wander as her eyes dried, the familiar scene bringing a different sort of ache to her heart.

It was around this time that she became aware she was being watched. A glance away from the ocean revealed Aran's ghostly figure standing a mear dozen feet from where she relaxed. While his eyes left no doubt about his reason for being here--they were focused solely on her--they lacked the intensity of his original visit. If she had to give him an emotion, she might've pinned the expression he wore as one of curiosity, and perhaps a bit of apprehension.

"I won't fall," she declared, turning her gaze back to the water. "So, there's no need to watch me. I've no intention of becoming a soul today."

Minutes ticked by in silence following her words. Unable to help herself, Iliana looked over her shoulder once more. He hadn't moved. A shiver crept down her spine, as well as a sliver of unease.

"If you're not leaving, at least move where I can see you," she demanded. "Staring like that is creepy as fuck. Gods."

His mouth quirked with what might've been amusement. She glowered in turn. After a moment, Aran shoved his hands in his pockets and drew closer to her position. He paused just close enough that she could stare at him out of the corner of her eyes while still watching the waves lick base of the island's rock enclosure.

As time passed, his gaze seemed to switch to the scenery as well. Tension she hadn't known she was holding seeped out of her frame as Iliana relaxed in response. Still, the silence stretched between them felt as heavy as the pain that'd begun to plague her thoughts before his appearance.

"Want to know why I came out here?" she asked.

Something about this, about the thick silence, and the mute man unable to share her secrets, made an unfamiliar urge well up in her chest. Untold stories held their own weight, and sometimes... they hurt. He was a complete stranger, and somehow, that made it easier, more appealing.

Aran's curious eyes flicked back to Iliana, and he offered a shallow nod.

"The port town I grew up in was cliffside," she shared.

The memories flashed through her mind as she spoke. Her words outlining how Ephi was a strange mixture of poor village and important city. How the land had a clear divide between the extravagant grounds belonging to the upper class, and the crumbling buildings belonging to the poor. The rock walls had created a cave-like setting, as the town itself laid at the base, some of it built on aging docks that stretched over the open sea, and some of it in the cliffside itself.

The noble estates, constructed above it all, had literally lorded over them.

"There were gates on the outskirts. My mother once said that the town hadn't always been enclosed, but the nobles had complained constantly about the threat of pirates by water, and bandits by land, until the lord ordered the walls built. The guards weren't supposed to allow children without a written pass, or an adult, to leave. I was a familiar face, though, and by the time I took to escaping, they knew my mother had passed, and Mara was too busy to care one way or another.

"At least, that's what I told them. Really, she hated the idea. Mara was as overprotective as a big sister can be when she's juggling long hours as a waitress and being courted by a rather controlling noble.

"Either way, they'd look the other direction and let me sneak out of town. On days when I couldn't find dock work, I'd climb the cliffs and look over Ephi, imagining what it'd be like to sneak onto one of the ships and sail away. After she married, it was an escape. I could sit and watch the ships, imagine myself on one, and forget the horrible town that laid beneath me."

Her lips twisted up in a bitter smile.

"And one day, I took the chance. Best choice I ever made."

Even now, stranded, scared and grieving, she didn't regret it.

Ephi had been a cage. Iliana wouldn't be going back, not even to sooth the pain that came from thoughts of her sister.

A/N: Tada! Iliana shared a tad. Any thoughts on what she's shared? Also, you've finally met Aran! Any idea what he wants? 

Should she trust him? 

P.S. In the original draft, reapers were called gatemasters. As you read further on and go past my edits, you'll see them referred to as such, even if it's phased out of my current draft. I'll slowly be replacing it as I finish editing chapters, but yeah. Same for Kryil's name. In the last version, he was Rastus Dellis. Now, he is Kyril Levantis.