ADARA

The harbour bells sang out for their return through the slingshot of Yuven Traye's magick. Flags waved on the top of the masts, with the largest ship in port being a grey splattered galleon with its standard a golden wrapped wyvern, its wings outstretched to its tips and its claws dug into a star. Harpoons sat on both ends, tipped with gold, and she hated to imagine the size of Derelicts the ocean held. Tentacled leviathans from Garren's stories. Cheek tucked into her palm, she tapped her fork on an empty plate within the Lodge's bright mess hall, where several windows wrapped around in full view of the horizon. Steam spread a meaty scent throughout the area from the kitchens, where cooks bustled around and sorted through the pantries and tucked rations into thick wooden containers. The five-hundred page monolith sat on her other side, out of reach of any mess as she sat alone, with only a couple of Storm Wardens rushing along to swipe up the prepped wooden containers. Karves floated on the edge of the gulf, underneath the shadows of the two giant statues on the crescent. Her gaze drew to the part of the cliff where Fenrer nearly lost his life. Rocks clawed their way out of the foam, and she prodded the plate once more for what crumbs remained of her meal.

The sun bloomed through the fluffy white clouds, and she swayed with the crowing of the seabirds — instead of the howl of ghosts in the snow. One hundred and... Adara flipped over to the next page. One... Only so many more pages to go. A new chapter on her magick journey, after the first hundred pages slamming primordial shifting into her brain, the way the flow remained constant though the expression changed with someone's core, and the many changes of state magick underwent. Water into ice. Back. Fire into steam. Back. Light. Dark. Also back.

It made her head spin, but she clung onto the foundations all the same. Fork between her teeth, she chewed for the tangy sauce of what had previously been a Hanekan smoked salmon. Glyphs became the forefront; how to focus power through the edges and drive the flow of a soul through the center. Barriers constructed of smaller glyphs. Wards spun from colourful webs and anchored to the echo. Curiosity drove her to the back, the index, searching through the A section. What makes me so much more powerful than... Yuven or Fenrer? I've seen their abilities, and what Yuven did, is Yuven sure he isn't an Anima?

She flipped over to the section, but found it minimal. Incomprehensible reserves of stamina, their bodies used as a biological glyph without the need for blood magick. Nothing on the Great Crimson Dusk at the reported crack in the Echo Obscura created by Anima. No explanation for a man to turn into a wyvern — or a wyvern into a man. Two forms and two names. Adara rubbed her thumb against the edge of the parchment, then returned to the index to run herself through the rest of the first letter.

Aurus.

Adara flipped to the marked passage and studied closer, but found its information almost as lacking as Anima magick. Her fingers traced the drawn model's swirls with the pupils, the expression of the flow in their every eyes. Have the ability to sense and intake emotion and energy into themselves through their eyes... appearing as aura... color is reported to be individual to the person. Adara frowned and continued to read past her set point within Yuven's monolith. Often first appears around the age of seven turns, usually from a result of sensory overload and a sudden influx of aura. Able to explore the depths of a mind through feelings. Adara searched closer for information on an Auric Trance, but it only got a footnote of a mention, along with the fact Aurus were unable to use the powers on themselves. Also unknown as to whether there is a genetic disposition. Her hand rested in her lap, and she closed the book with a huff.

Adara lost herself in the sea's deep, expansive blues. Waves splashed against the pebbles of the harbor and rocked the boats with its ever changing lullaby, quick to switch to a furious tempest. Harbormasters directed boats into free ports, while workers hauled barrels of fish into warehouses, writing stuff down beside them. In a larger section of the port, boats were repaired, with some showing signs of Derelict rot. Her heart squeezed, and she sighed at the constant reminder of the monsters born from the obscure flow.

"Adara."

The voice born of the sea caused her to turn at the childhood consistency. Garren stood there, his crescent blade locked at his side once more instead of in a mysterious golden-rimmed box. His gaze gave her a once-over, but she found the carrier of her fire driving her legs out of her chair to rush at him, her foot taking aim. He side-stepped, then slid his ankle behind hers when her momentum carried her past her Guardian and the only father figure she had in her life. "I see you still swing before thinking," Garren grunted.

Adara bounced off her hands and went to throw it into his stomach, but he tossed his elbow around hers and shoved her aside.

"I may be getting on in turns, Adara, but nice try." Garren sniffed.

Adara fixed her sleeves and scowled at him. "I thought you'd be at Euros. Isn't that where you were going?" She swiped the book and held it close to her chest. "What are you doing in Sivaport?"

"I wasn't going to Euros straight away," Garren said. "I was going to stop by my home island off the coast, but I got waylaid when I arrived here. Got news that you were abducted along with one of your guards. The Inlander boy told me before he left with King Reyn's diplomants to go get you both. I saw them off, and hung around for a while to help unload the supplies before taking my own ship."

"The Inlander boy — you mean Fenrer?" Adara mused. "Boy? He's my age." And I'm at my twentieth turn...

"He's a boy to me, quite a reckless boy at that, might I mention," Garren pointed out. "I've seen Warden-Trainees with more self-preservation instincts then the two I was compelled to hand you over to." He shook out his shoulders, and gave his typical old-man hermit sigh. "Better them than me, though, I suppose. They have endurance I don't have anymore. At any rate, good to see Fenrer achieved what he set out to do and you're safe."

Adara rubbed the last of frostbite out of her elbows and swallowed on her unprocessed terror. "Yeah." Trembles wracked her knees at the chilling shriek of the corrupted wyvern. "How was your journey along the south wall? Run into any trouble?"

"Couple of wayward Derelicts to clear out, but I reached the citadel," Garren replied and gazed at her book. "Foundations: Magick and the Flow. Quite a hefty read, even for you, ain't it?" He raised his finger before she could bite out a retort, then shuffled through his pack. "Here, I managed to swipe your copy after I doubled around to the log cabin for extra supplies. Had a Derelict chewing on my ancients-damned shingles."

Adara balked at his callous referral to the depraved creatures, but her surprise slacked when he pushed 'Dragon Knight' into her hands, the same copy Tara gave her from the drawings they both made together inside the cover. Her finger traced Tara's handwriting, the message she left the day before it all went wrong.

Here you go, Dragon Knight. Tara drew a heart curling in on itself, wrapped with a rose. It dug into her chest, and she added it to her own bag and stared at Garren, whose stories held the cruel reality of the world around her, and dismissed the tales of hope as if he wasn't a warrior of its golden stream. "Thanks, Garren." Salt stung behind her eyes, and she wiped at the corners. "I was worried something happened to you."

"It didn't happen," Garren said, tone awkward when he shuffled on his feet with a frown. "My one priority has always been you, Adara, after your mother named me your Guardian... even though I am about as good with kids as a Derelict is..." he grumbled under his breath, then went still. "But you didn't need to concern yourself with me. I know how to hold my own, and you can be rest assured I have no further intention of throwing myself back into the fray. I'm too old."

"You told me Storm Wardens don't retire."

"Mostly because they tend to die before they get to my age. I have just been graced with the luck of the sea that comes to its sons and daughters," Garren released his classic morbid humor. "Our bodies fail as we age, mine moreso due to the sacrificial ritual I undertook as a failsafe for your safety. I know I cannot be the Storm Warden I was once, but I can still be a spymaster, my mind hasn't begun to wane. Information can be a deadly weapon, I plan to use those skills as I had before, if the Warden-Commander would still have them. But, I need a rest, so I'm going to my childhood home, check on my family."

"Can I come?"

Garren hooked his fingers into his belt. "Someday, it's not too far off the archipelago, but I advise you to stay your course, see this through. Get to Euros and learn the things I couldn't teach you in Tebora," he said. "And, when you're ready, you are more than welcome." Adara set the books down, then reached for the support of her childhood, the torch handed over to Yuven and Fenrer with no choice of her own, but she wouldn't make any other choice. Her hands wrapped around him, and she scoffed when he stiffened. "What in the Infernal Hells are you doing?"

"It's called a hug, old man. Accept it."

His arms slacked at his sides, and he shook his head before returning it with an awkward head pat. Adara let him go and frowned. "So, you're not coming on the galleon?"

"No. I got a couple things I want to handle in the Lodge. I'll see you off once more though, and this time—" Garren prodded her brow. "Try not to get yourself into too much trouble."

Adara laughed, and savored the tranquility the only adult figure in her life gave her. "I'll try, Garren, thank you for returning the book to me and... everything else," she said, "I'm going to go head to the castle, so I suppose I'll see you when I leave."

"Do you want me to walk you over there?"

"No, I'll be okay. Fenrer showed me around when we first arrived, and the lighthouse is hard to miss." Adara smiled at him. "I need some time for my thoughts... I'm going to go check on Fenrer and Yuven, they went through so much on my account, and I sometimes wasn't an easy charge for them." Guilt strangled her admittance of the fact, but she wouldn't make the same mistakes again. For them. For her friends. For the ones she lost and loved the most. Garren nodded, then clapped her shoulder.

"Well, assuming you can keep an eye on the lighthouse."

Adara punched him in the arm.

Sunlight streamed through the meticulous streets designed with the ocean's cruelty in mind. Drains wound around the stone corners with houses lifted on the same foundations. Lamps swung from the wooden posts, and the scaled roofs angled for water to drip down them with ease. A promise made, she reached the gatehouse to the Sivaport castle, where it stood near the cliff with deep runes within the ground to prevent immediate erosion. Reyn's housecarls trained in the fields. Book in her hands, she waddled into the castle, taking the same way she used when Maria Ollain gave her the all clear. Shock went through her at the sight of her and Yuven standing outside the door, with Yuven rubbing the sleeves of a loose shirt over his shoulders with a familiar scowl on his face.

"Yuven!" Adara ran up to him, but her brow ran smack dab into his palm when he raised it up to her. Once more bested by another Storm Warden, she scoffed. "Fine, not happy to see you either."

"It's too early for your shrilliness," Yuven said and brushed the side of his head.

"Adara, was it?" Maria mused. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, whatever you gave me calmed my nerves enough that I could think straight," she said and bowed in gratitude, though Yuven folded his arms in disapproval. "Is Fenrer awake?"

Yuven and Maria shared a look. "About as awake as a rather energetic sea slug," Maria responded. "If you're wanting to talk to him, you can try, it's another matter if he can respond quite as concisely as he usually would." She opened the door without issue. "Go on ahead, I need to discuss something with Yuven."

"And before you ask, no, it's private," Yuven said before she could process a question.

"Good to see you're back." Adara left the two alone, with Maria closing the door behind her. Herbal flowers flowed into her nose, and she went to the one occupied bed. Water bubbled and fire sent up fumes through the alchemy station when she drew closer to his side, and he pried open his eyes with a questioning huff on his lips. "Are you with me?"

His gaze drew up and down, then shrugged with a small, shallow struggle of an exhale. "Only a little," he replied with a weary squint and a rougher edge to his own wavy accent. "In and out. Sorry. If you want to talk... I'm not going to be much of a conversation partner... can only hear every other word..." He tucked his arms across his chest, then nodded at the shawl folded beside him. "I kept my promise."

Adara returned it around her shoulders, the hem fluffy from someone's careful laundering. "I guess I'll have to wait for that Hanekan romantic tale?"

He smiled. "We can share our tales when I am less..." He squinted once more, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow when he shifted in discomfort. "Tutheiira. This, sorry," he repeated the out of place apology, then rested his forearm over his brow with a deeper sigh. "It's a little hard to talk."

Adara frowned, edged closer, then held the book out to him. "Well, I have my tale right here whenever you're ready." She returned the heavy message of Tara's back into her lap, the memory of the kiss filling her and haunting her all at once, and whispered, "It's called Dragon Knight. This story got me through some... tough times." And a reminder of who I lost all the same. Adara traced the dragon head on the cover, but frowned when Fenrer considered her. "I think you'll like it."

"I can't wait to hear it." His smile grew with the light shedding through the windows, as strong as the one he gave her when he walked into the field of the dead. Full of hope and agony. "Tell me it over the voyage, and I'll tell you mine when I can speak fully." Adara put the book away, then clasped his one hand into both of hers. Warmth spread from the contact, and she longed for the strength to unravel the thorn embedded in her heart. He closed his eyes, and she held her breath when he squeezed hers with a sense of unease, nervousness.

Something's wrong. Adara released his hand, where it rested back onto his chest. "I'm just glad you two are still with me."

Don't get too close, a voice whispered in her ear.

"Would that it never happened at all," Fenrer mumbled and buried himself deeper into the blankets.

Adara sat beside him in silence when he drifted off, then looked up when Maria slipped back in, with Yuven in tow, who plopped himself in a bed and laid down.

"We're going to get them moving soon," Maria said. "Did you two talk?"

"Yeah." Adara bit on her tongue for the love she longed for but feared to have once more.

Yuven studied her, then scowled, and the voice in the back of her head shifted into his, though rife with guilt when they stood in the rain and he asked for her name into an apology. Her own guilt, when she turned her back and leaped into a new dream without her.

I'm sorry, Tara...