Severa sighed deeply and sank, exhausted, into one of the chairs in the cabin. Sullenly, she chewed on a piece of bread she had found in the cupboard. Her euphoria from the previous day seemed distant. The rolling waves made her nauseous, though it was possible the earlier awkward incident also played a role.

Her thoughts drifted to the forests. She longed for the peace of complete solitude, far from everything and everyone. Over the past two days, she had spoken more than ever before, yet even in the cabin, she felt far from alone, as if constantly being watched. But there was nowhere to go.

Suddenly, a piece of fruit rolled out from one of the storage cabinets. Startled, Severa looked up, as though it confirmed her suspicions. Was she truly alone here?

She stood and picked up the fruit. Perhaps she hadn't properly closed the cabinet door, and the ship's movement had caused it to fall. Still, she couldn't resist her curiosity. She searched the cabinet for another explanation but found nothing suspicious.

The thought of the strange woman she had freed from the temple crossed her mind. But that woman couldn't possibly fit in such a small cabinet. Nevertheless, Severa felt pursued, if only in her thoughts. She shuddered at the memory of the woman's pale skin and hollow eyes.

Even though she had seen enough of that Ósköp, she needed to know what she had unleashed from that temple. Resolute, she took another bite of her bread and carried the rest upstairs.

"Hungry?" she called to Einar as she descended the steps.

Einar looked up. "I assume you're not offering that out of courtesy. What do you want from me?"

Severa plopped down in front of him, leaning back against the ship's railing. "Just making conversation. Maybe I'm more courteous than you think," she said, playing with the bread. When she looked up, Einar was staring at her incredulously.

"You know I have to keep you alive until we reach Brimsjá. Until then, I hope we can amuse each other at least a little."

Einar seemed surprised. "I thought the only way I could amuse you was by dancing on hot coals."

Severa shrugged. "Don't worry; that's scheduled for tonight. But first, let's talk about what your army was looking for in that temple."

Einar's eyes darted toward the horizon, a hint of fear in them. As if he expected danger to suddenly emerge from nowhere. He seemed lost in thought, reluctant to respond.

"This is the part where you carry the conversation, Ósköp," Severa grumbled impatiently. "Or should I go light the coals?"

Einar chuckled softly. "Perhaps, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

Severa raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Einar glanced around, ensuring no one else was listening. "A Fomorian. A dark spirit sent by the King of Evil," he explained further.

Severa scoffed dismissively, pushing the bread into his hands. "The King of Evil? You mean Balor, the legendary king."

Einar looked at the bread in his hands, then back at her, laughing incredulously. "You know the legends? And... you believe me?" he teased, almost mockingly.

"I believe that's what you were searching for, Prince Ósköp. Your army has already made it clear you're not entirely sane. I wouldn't doubt you're foolish enough to believe in those legends and actually tell me the truth about what you were up to. Perhaps I'm even sailing straight for Brimsjá now!" Satisfied, Severa stood to check if land was in sight. But the horizon was empty, bordered only by the sea. A disappointed sigh escaped her.

As naive as this fool seemed, she couldn't shake the feeling that he might be right about the legend. She had seen so much—the fiery breath of Pyroraptors, the enchanting glow of flowers that lit up in the dark. But that mysterious being in the dungeon radiated an aura of something extraordinary, something beyond this realm.

If she had indeed unleashed evil, rooting doom even deeper into the earth, it hadn't worked out badly for her so far. Perhaps she truly would be rewarded by the ruler of evil. Was that what she wanted? A wave nausea washed over her suddenly. She shook off the thought and turned back to Einar.

"Just because I believe you doesn't mean I believe your crazy legends. Just like King Egill, who apparently pretended to believe the legend just to finally send you to war, and the army that only followed because they saw a chance to take you down a peg." Severa shook her head, laughing. "You must be terribly naive to think you could make an entire army believe the legends."

Einar grinned and shrugged. "The only one who believes there's anyone out there who thinks the legends are real is you. I never said I believed in them. And yet, you call me an Ósköp."

Severa snatched the bread from his hands irritably. "If no one believed in the legend, then what were you all doing at that temple?!"

Einar rolled his eyes. "Everyone had their own motives. The legend was just a convenient excuse to hide their true reasons. I only hoped my father's and the army's motives wouldn't cost anyone their lives. I can't deny that was naive." His nonchalance faded briefly. "I'm sorry, Severa, for what happened in Sylvamarius. It was terrible."

Severa quickly looked away. He seemed sincere, but it had to be a lie. Yet, his words gave her an inexplicable warmth, as if they actually meant something to her.

Severa steeled herself against her feelings. "What was your motive, then?" she asked gruffly.

Einar sighed wistfully. "I just wanted to go to Sylvamarius." His eyes glimmered with longing as they turned to the sky. "I wanted to explore the world and, above all, discover myself. Not exactly worth so many lives, is it?" He smirked crookedly.

Severa shrugged indifferently. "Dead or alive, what difference does it make in your life? Besides, if you hadn't gone on this mission, your father would've terrorized our land just the same. Maybe you didn't notice it behind your high castle walls, but that's how life is."

Einar smiled wistfully. "I knew the stories through my father, and those from the forbidden library. They bore no resemblance, and I wanted to believe my father was the liar. At the very least, I hoped the world beyond Brimsjá's horizon was different, but it wasn't."

Einar let his head drop in disappointment. "My father would have gone to battle against Finemici no matter what, but a small island against an entire continent... He never stood a chance, even if the Emperor of Finemici hadn't succeeded in uniting the governors," he said disapprovingly, shaking his head.

Severa snorted disdainfully. "You had a Pyroraptor under your control. What more could you possibly need to subdue Finemici? No one could stand against that monster." A lump rose in her throat as she recalled her ruined city and her father, helpless and lost within it.

"We didn't have the Pyroraptor under control when we decided to chase the legend. It only appeared when I was outside the castle gates. My father said it came for me," Einar said, pain evident in his eyes.

"What do you mean, it came for you?" Severa asked, confused.

Einar took a deep breath. "I didn't remember much from when I was little, but when my father told me I'd been raised by that creature, I knew he wasn't lying. I wanted to discover who I truly was and found that my origins lie with this feared species. Everything I never wanted to be," he said, staring into the distance, his face marked by regret.

"Wait, what!?!" Severa stammered, startled. That might explain why she suddenly felt so warm in his presence, and sensed something strange, something extraordinary, just like the abhorrent monster in the dungeons—yet different. "You... you're a Pyroraptor, a shapeshifter? What kind of monster are you?" she stammered fearfully.

Einar nodded cryptically, took a deep breath, clenched his jaw tightly, his jawline even more pronounced as he frowned deeply. For a moment, she thought she saw his skin change to scales—until Einar burst out laughing. "Do you really believe the legends are true? I wanted to go to Sylvamarius because I heard that's where I could find the last lorekeepers, and it seems I've found one."

Severa felt her fists clench in anger. She wouldn't let him make a fool of her. Hiding her shame, she turned to the darkening sky that was closing in on them. "Looks like it's going to get cold. Not exactly dressed for the occasion, are you?" she remarked, giving his bare legs a disapproving look. "You might want to practice a little. How did you do it again?" She pulled a sour, pained face. "If only you had hot coals to dance on with your bare raptor feet. I'm heading inside to warm up."

Without waiting for a response, she turned away, though she caught a satisfying glimpse of his defeated expression.