The sun stood high in the sky, and the sound of waves lapping against the hull of the ship mingled with the soft breeze that brushed through Severa's hair as she stood beside Einar, her gaze fixed on the vast sea. Where she had once lost track of time, she had counted the days with precision since they left Soritia.

"Do you see anything yet?" Severa asked, her eyes scanning the mist for something visible, only to find an endless expanse of water.

"Of course not," Einar replied, his voice tinged with mild frustration and a hint of resignation as he lowered his spyglass.

Severa couldn't help but think of the vague information Milena had shared about Tir na nOg, the mysterious island whose secrets still eluded her.

"What exactly did Milena tell you about Tir na nOg?" she asked, her voice uneasy, blending with the sounds of lapping waves and the gentle sea breeze.

"Not much," Einar said, his tone guarded.

Though Milena knew more stories and legends than the forbidden library Einar had read from cover to cover, even she seemed clueless about what awaited them.

"Milena suspects that the mist drains life energy, but that energy must be used for something. She thinks the inhabitants of Tir na nOg are immortal. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?" Einar grinned optimistically.

Severa tried to find solace in the thought of immortality, but in the macabre world they lived in, it offered little comfort.

"They still feel pain, don't they?" she mused. "I always found it reassuring that you only endure so much pain in life that it eventually kills you once."

Einar smirked. "So you think you could die a hundred times without actually dying?" he asked, his tone laced with a hint of mockery and genuine concern.

"I don't know," Severa groaned. "I haven't really thought about it. But now that she's even set a date..." She leaned on the ship's railing, her gaze once again drawn to the horizon.

"You're not scared, are you?" Einar asked, studying her closely as he leaned down beside her. Where she had once feared he might see through her fearless, ruthless facade, she now felt she didn't need to worry about his concerned eyes uncovering the truth.

Still, she tried to keep her composure, shrugging nonchalantly. "She told me once that Tir na nOg was a breeding ground for raptors. You know how much I hate those creatures," she grinned.

"And she said it's probably besieged by the darkest souls who've dedicated their lives to ensuring the Forsa Soil , a powerful source, remains in the hands of the ruler of evil," Einar added, his worried gaze drifting to the rolling sea.

"Do you think she means Fomorians?" Severa asked, alarmed.

"Ah, nothing we haven't faced before," Einar said confidently, his voice full of faith in their ability to handle any challenge, and he playfully poked Severa's side. "We'll be fine!" He strolled casually back toward the helm.

"Have you been sneaking sips of the Gaudorium Elixer?" Severa called, turning to scan the ship for an empty bottle.

"Milena tasked me with organizing the feast and decorating the ship. Naturally, I had to know where she kept the bottle—and give it a little taste to..." Einar's words were cut off as Severa lunged at him.

"You!" she bellowed, though she knew Einar didn't need Gaudorium Elixer to feel optimistic.

Einar deftly parried her attack. Despite her best efforts to knock him off balance, Einar countered every move with ease, as if he anticipated her intentions. Stripped of her clever combat techniques, she stood no chance; every attempt to overpower him ended in failure. Yet, he refrained from using his full strength to gain the upper hand, holding her gently instead.
"Easy, Veneficii," he teased, letting her escape as he prepared for her next move.

Just as she managed to trap his head under her arm, Milena appeared. The excited smile on her face twisted into a disapproving frown as she found them wrestling on the deck.

"Ah, Milena, perfect timing!" Einar groaned, still grinning.

"For what?" Severa muttered, knowing full well he didn't need Milena to escape her hold. She released Einar and crossed her arms.

"Well," Einar said, his face flushed from the effort, "I was going to make the ship look festive, and Milena's going to make you look festive."

Severa frowned deeply. "Me? Why do I have to look festive?"

"We're throwing a ball!" Milena squealed gleefully, twirling into Einar's arms, who spun her in a pirouette.

"How much have you had before agreeing to this? That bottle must be nearly empty!" Severa snapped in irritation.

"I haven't had a sip. But if you want some, at least take a bath first. I think there's still a drop of Jörmungandr's blood on your nose." He wiped her nose with his finger, revealing a brown smudge.

She was fairly certain it couldn't be the monster's blood; the filthy seawater should have washed it off when she fell in, and sweat surely would have removed it by now. Yet, she realized that both arguments failed to support her case.