The fire raged. Bright red, yellow, and orange. It danced and swirled into the sky. It started shy, like a pretty maid on her wedding night, but it had broken free of its chains and now it consumed everything in its path. People ran from the flames, but still, they clung like a desperate lover, never letting go. In its wake, ashes were left. It got into Salvador's ears, eyes, nose, and mouths. Choking him, drowning him in ash.

Then the storm came. It raged, howled, and screaming. It doused out the flames in an instant, bringing some short relief to Salvador. But the storm kept raging with more and more ferocity. His relief fell away in an instant when the winds began tearing up the ground.

The wind. It sung a sweet and beautiful song, one that promised peace, prosperity, and life, but in reality it tore up the ripped through the earth, crushed cities, and tore through kingdoms. All whilst singing its beautiful song. Lightning came down from the sky almost like rain, striking those who dared stand too tall. And then ice swept from the north, and a battle between wind, ice, and lightning ensued.

Somehow, over the screaming ferocity of the storm, he heard whispered words. They said to him, "The walls are crumbling. The end is starting. The storm is coming. The walls are crumbling. The end is starting. The storm is coming. The walls are crumbling. The end is starting. The storm is coming."

"The storm?" Salvador cried out. "What storm?"

"The walls are crumbling..."

"Who are you? What is happening?" he cried, louder and louder, hoping to be heard over the storm, the battle, but his words were simply ripped away from him the second they left his throat.

"The storm..."

The sky split open then, with a slim heavenly light beaming down. As the split got wider, so did the light. Salvador looked up but found himself blinded; his eyes began to burn with a fury he had never felt before.

"... crumbling..."

And the ground sundered and broke, ripping apart with a sound that echoed faintly of the crushing of bones and the screaming of those he knew. The wind and the storm were nothing now. For the tendrils of darkness reached up from the core of the earth and grabbed blindly to grab ahold of anything to lift itself up, to the light. But the light came down, ready for a fight. The light came down to penetrate the darkness.

And yet when Light and Darkness met, neither side won out. The two sides clashed and dissipated. All that was left in the aftermath was hazy... gray.

And then he woke up.

The rolling seas of the Caraíbes slowly gave way to white-colored sand beaches patched with small clusters of palm trees. Further to the south, a castle rose up in the distance, formidable yet beautiful. It was in the regular Sersalvonian style, grand arched buildings and sweeping windows with towers a hundred feet high tipped with sharp points painted in a morning blue. Rivièrra. Even from on the ship, he thought he could feel the cool breeze coming off of the Corriende, the river which he had spent his childhood living on. Salvador knew this land. If you went north on land, you'd be traversing rugged hills that gave away to a small plain just before you reached Sapinsville. Just ahead of their ships, Rivièrrian warships pulled up close to their caravel and hailed them.

"Who passes?" called the captain of the other ship, speaking the Merchant Tongue.

"Refugees!" Stephanie called out in Carabaí. "We come from Grenaserrat!"

"Grenaserrat? The Evrúopeans have been there for nigh on a month!"

"Indeed! There was a rebellion in the slave fields. A battle. We seized the chance to escape."

"Did it succeed?"

Stéphane shook her head. "No."

"And who might you be?"

"Stéphane Elwyn. This is what remains of my company. But we wish to offer our services to the Duke of Rivièrra."

"The Bloody Dame?"

Stéphane nodded. "The one and only."

"I was there at the Three Red Rivers, madame!"

Stéphane held a flat expression. "Yes, a valorous victory it was. Now, I wish to offer my services to the Duke of Rivièrra."

"Ah, yes madame! Forgive me! The Duke is accompanied by his brother, I must add. Lord José Rivera of Sapinsville."

That name... it awoke a storm within Salvador. His head slowly turned to the captain of the other ship. His expression remained the same, but both Tomas and Gerard looked at him. Tomas saw nothing wrong and looked away, but Gerard noticed the brief flash in Salvador's eyes. A flash of rage.

"Thank you very much, seigneur. Perhaps we should make our way?"

"Oh! Yes, forgive me!" The captain turned his galley around and escorted the mercenaries. Gerard whispered something to Stéphane and she relayed what he said in a hushed tone to the other sailors. No one told Salvador anything, but he saw Stéphane shoot a quick glance at him before quickly turning away. He ignored them though. All he could think about was how close his enemy was.

Times before he had gone to Sapinsville, and gotten mere feet away from the small keep where José Rivera and his family lived. Many a time he had contemplated storming in killing everyone in sight, if only to save his mother who he knew was being held captive there. There was a prison within the keep, perhaps that's where they had kept her for the past eight years...

In his vision, a red haze settled and images flashed past his eyes. Images of the past. A glittering sword wrapped in fabric. A bloody spear sticking out of his father's chest. The sight of the Corriende fading in the distance as he rode away with Gerard.

All he could feel was rage.

Gerard walked up to him and laid a hand on their soldier. They were just entering the mouth of the Corriende. "Are you okay?" the Freelancer Knight asked.

"What do you think?" Salvador shot back. "I'm about to meet the man who ruined my life for the first time in eight years." He gave Gerard a wolfish grin. "I'm doing fantastic."

Gerard gave out a sigh of relief. "Good. So I hope you won't be too angry."

"Huh?"

He barely had time to blink before Gerard's fist connected with his head.

When Salvador woke up again, he was stuck in his cabin within the ship. He could feel them still sailing up. His head was giving a low, slow throb. He got up from his bed and opened the door and went above deck. Emma was gazing over the edge of Lily's Wind as they tacked upriver. The fortress of Rivièrra was fading in the distance.

I missed my chance, was the first thought that crossed his mind. Then came the rage. The fury. But soon came the waves to calm him down. And then... came the fear.

Emma turned to face him and saw something in his mind. "Are you alright?" she asked him in her rough version of the Merchant Tongue.

"Shouldn't it be I who asks the question?" he replied in turn, in his version of the Merchant Tongue.

"By the laws of chivalry in Evrúopa, yes you should be."

Salvador snorted. "Evrúopa. So... Gerard knocked me out?"

"I'm sure you can come to that conclusion yourself."

"In all honesty, I'm not too sure."

Emma raised a blonde eyebrow. "Oh? Memory loss now? Should I remind you of all that's happened in the last weeks?"

Salvador gave her a wolfish smirk. "I remember kidnapping you."

Her mouth turned down at the sides at that. "Yes, that you did. Did you know that the corsair lords of West Corphegia steal the daughters of enemy lords and marry them to use them to strengthen their claims to their thrones."

At that, Emma turned around and strode right next to him, her forehead reaching his nose. "So did you kidnap me to steal my brother's throne?" she asked almost seductively.

Salvador laughed. "What happened to the old timid Princess Emma stuck in Grenaserrat?"

She smiled too, this time it was shy. "I was set free."

"Free?"

She nodded. "I've never been away from my brother for so long... it's... refreshing, to say the least."

Salvador looked at her strangely. "I kidnapped you." A fact.

She shrugged. "The only thing I worry about is when my brother brings fire and sword to Sapinsville."

I am too. "I'll show you around. You'll see true Sersalvonian culture in Sapisnville. Lately, I've heard the new fashion is wearing these hats with large brims. Reminiscent of the hats they wore during the Time of Seraselv."

"The Empire of Seraselv?"

"You know of it?"

"Why yes!" she exclaimed. "There is this book series about the Empire of Seraselv―"

"The Empire of Storms?"

Emma smiled. "Yes that's the one."

Salvador grinned. "That's my favorite."

"The Prince of Storms was my favorite book in the series."

"The last one?"

She nodded. "It's the most tragic. The fall of Emperor Atlantes, the Last Stormwarden, and the last Emperor of Seraselv. And the subsequent collapse of Seraselv."

He nodded in agreement. "His sons, daughters, nephews, and nieces ripped his lands apart, which encompassed near the entire Caraíbes Isles. The Cardinal Lords of Valencia united and invaded from the east. Nyove and Soyove Royne invaded from the north and the west, attempting to capture the rich sugar fields of the Tíanio and the other islands of the Northern Shield. The Wars of Hundred Islands began, shattering the Caraíbes forevermore."

Emma took on a solemn look. "And Élira seized on the chaos to send their fleet of a thousand ships. Which shattered on the high rocks of Petrache and fell to the great warships of Lamarr delle Alte Petrochia, the grandson of Emperor Atlantes."

"Lamarr of the High Rock," he translated. "Who soon fell to the hired blades and the poisoned wines of his aunt, La Dame delle Velenum. The Lady of Poison."

"Who soon died herself. Brutally at the hands of her own daughter, filled with grief at the death of her beloved cousin." Emma continued, looking deep into Salvador's eyes the entire time.

They continued like that, for hours until the sight of Sapinsville came into view. Salvador's heart stopped dead in his chest as he gazed upon the place of his birth. The place of his death. The place where he was born anew. In the air, he could smell the storm coming. The hurricane. No doubt it battered Grenaserrat after they left. Maybe it destroyed all the Barabarudi ships, but he knew that was unlikely. And in any case, they had many more. He would have to have a talk with Gerard later, about knocking him out. But he'll let that go for now. He knew they had good reason, for he knew himself that he would've gone and tried to kill Jose Rivera.

But that all melted away as he looked upon Sapinsville. His old home. He knew that the rage would return. The hate would return. The need for revenge would return. But for now... it was peaceful.