Salty, icy water slashed over Aelius from above. He shoved his hand into his mouth to keep from squealing, and to silence his clattering teeth. He brought his knees up to his chest and focused on breathing as quietly as he could. Every breath, every frightened heartbeat he felt in his chest, was a sign he was still alive.

The ship swayed and creaked defiantly as the storm raged and waves tossed and turned the craft. Rain beat down on the deck in almost equal quantity to the waves descending across its bow. Up and down it went, and the single light they had, a small lantern hanging from the ceiling, swung with it cascading shadows across the occupants defeated faces.

The room Aelius was in took up half the lower deck and was filled to bursting with people of all kinds, young or old, man or woman, but only of one blood: Kes-Blood.

Aelius was not one who could quantify the complexity of the political and diplomatic failures across the world that lead to Kes' fall; He was not one to understand the simplicity of a driven conqueror; and his vision of the world did not take into account his enemies laying in wait for the moment of weakness, nor who would qualify as his enemy. Yet even so in his gut he felt surrounded by wolves wishing to tear him to shreds, and that those wolves had been around him all this time hidden and ready to pounce. How else could it be that within days of the sun bringing its hand down on the capital that raiders, slavers, and aliens had filled his home, knew every hiding place, and dragged them all out to be cast out in shame, as if they were waiting for the opportunity and knew them so intimately so as to expose every weakness? How did they know? Had the sun itself told them?

As if in answer to its judgement, even the sun hid its eye in shame and hadn't looked on them in days. In its place something else had taken over, something dark, and the seas were turbulent and the sailors spoke of dark things moving in the water akin to dragons at times and at other times krakens. They saw great whirlpools where light came from and he heard the fearful cries of the men who had lost track of their position and wondered if they were now even over mountains.

The cold settled in and their teeth clattered anew. They huddled together and clutched their soaking torn blankets tighter. The creaking of the ship and crashing waves were appended by coughing, and it drew Aelius' attention that a few did not stop.

Aelius stepped up on shaky legs and grabbed the dismal excuse for a lantern swinging in the middle of the room. He fell on people time and time, but no one had the will to complain. His land-legs could not keep up with the swaying, but he carefully kept the lantern high to not shatter it. Eventually he found the source of the coughing fits and found a young woman a good decade ahead of him. He could barely make her out, what with her haphazard, grimy appearance and sickly color. Her eyes were unfocused and turned away from the flickering flame as if the tiniest light burned. The movement only made her cough harder until she was making sounds deep from her chest he did not recognize.

"She's sick. Help me get her up!" Aelius said through clattering teeth.

Despite his request, no one moved, no one so much as turned to look. All their faces had become blank and empty, devoid of eyes and mouths or any other features. Aelius reached down and grabbed her from under her shoulder. Lifting with his legs, he managed to get her up onto her own feet until she collapsed on his shoulder and together they trudged towards the door. She was as weak and docile as a baby lamb, either unable or unwilling to gather the wits to care about her pride. When they made it, he gently lowered her and sat her by the door.

Surged with strength of purpose, the cold wetness dimmed and a fire burned in his skin. He fixed his jaw, slammed on the door, and yelled, "We need a doctor! Someone is sick!"

The raging storm violently threw the ship and knocked him down, but he jumped up and continued. Every time he yelled, something louder interrupted. He refused to give up and kept going until his voice broke and his gums cracked and bled. His hands grew sore and splinters and bruises met his knuckles.

Eventually, the door threw open and a man looked within. He immediately kicked Aelius in the chest, sending him to the floor. "What's with the racket boy! Sit down and shut up!" The man slammed the door shut. 

Aelius jumped up and beat on the door. "We have a sick woman! She needs help!"

The same man opened the door and this time noted the woman sitting by struggling to breath. She coughed and blood fell into her hand.

"Damn." The man hissed. Aelius got a good look at him now and saw he was red all over as if lightly burned, and recently. The man roughly grabbed both Aelius and the woman by their arms and hauled them out of the room and up rampart stairs into the dense rain.

Rain fell painfully as hail and burned the skin. Aelius rubbed it off but found it was like ink gooped between his fingers. There was movement all around as the men fought to keep the ship from tearing itself apart. Black lines covered the ship like veins and large hands appeared around like vines grasping and tugging on the wood. The men lit multiple lanterns and torches and placed it at all places around the edges of the ship and the black waves recoiled at the light, causing the ship to suddenly shift and fall in the direction recoiling as the black water fled from them.

Aelius gasped at what he saw. In the distance was a massive whirlpool from which shined a light. Not merely one, but many. All around in the distance were dozens of light-emitting whirlpools of black ink. He briefly turned his eyes up, and his eyes widened. All over Dyson were hundreds of these. He could not see closely enough to tell if they were whirlpools around the lights, but the lights all the same stood out against the darkness. 

It was beautiful.

The burning rain got into his eyes and he clenched them shut, yelling in pain. The place stunk before, but the slight ting of seared flesh from the fiery black water burned into his nose.

"Stop doing that you buffoons! You want to sink the ship?!" A voice broadcasted across the ship. "We need the demons under us to not fall, but also not over us to kill us! Its a balancing act! Don't put the light out too far!"

The captain, if perhaps he was captain, to which from Aelius he seemed to be at least acting as captain stood by the center mast directing them with a wave of his hand while holding on to a rope fastened to the mast. His clothes were nicer than the others and more vibrant, with a coat hanging from his shoulders. He had a wide hat that somehow stayed firmly rooted to his scalp that protected his face from the burning rain.

As soon as the man-at-the-mast raised his voice, the man dragging Aelius and the woman hauled them towards the former. The woman collapsed to her hands and knees and threw up. The captain looked down at her and asked, "What's this about?"

Aelius' skin crawled. He knew that voice, but couldn't quite place it. Everything burned and bit at him and now his eyes felt like they were on fire.

One said, "She's sick. Where's the doctor?"

The other pointed at a man who was wielding a torch yelling 'back!' at an inky tendral rising out of the water and beating it over the 'head'. He said, "He's dealing with a patient right now. Let me see."

The captain stooped down and grabbed the woman. He forced her to open her jaws and turn irregularly to look up at him while he shined a lantern against her. She struggled against him, but his grip was firm. 

"Her tongue is swollen. If she isn't suffocating already she soon will be." He declared. "Take care of her. We can't have it spreading."

The captain dropped down to a knee before Aelius while the other man hauled the woman away behind them. The captain said, "Is your tongue swollen too?" He grabbed Aelius' head roughly, forced his jaws wide, and looked in.

"N-no!" Aelius struggled to say with fingers in his mouth.

"Then what's your problem? Why are your eyes shut?"

"Well my eyes burn and I found the woman being sickly."

"Ah, I see. The Night-Blood got us all off guard a bit, didn't they?" He said. He took his sleeve and rubbed Aelius' face with it. "You're a good lad. It was wise of you to do something about it before her sickness spread."

The burning went down enough for him to be able to open his eyes a bit, and Aelius' froze. He looked straight into the face of a man his father warned him about many times.

Caius.

Behind Caius, Aelius saw the other man take the sick woman in his arms and chuck her off the ship and into the abyss.

Caius' eyes remained on Aelius' unblinking. A smile crossed his lips that didn't go near his eyes. His eyes were too focused. The sickly smile made Aelius' skin crawl and clammy even against the burning inky rain. An icy hand traced its fingers down his spine.

"Is there anyone else sick?" Caius asked.

"No." Aelius lied.

Caius nodded, and put both of his hands on Aelius' shoulders in comfort, and then one hand to his cheek. The stench of lightly charred flesh and salty ocean filled Aelius' nostrils until he felt nauseas and his head spun. 

"Everything will be alright, son."