Ra'venna paces back and forth, each turn sends her waves fanning around her. The sound of her boots hitting the wood panels is like a steady drumbeat. At the base of her back her holstered sai shift with every step.
Osec Ocean has been plunged by a series of tempests, Wrath of the Gods, the sailors call it. The storms have forced them and others to camp on the the beaches bordering the Pyon Mountains. They have been stranded here for weeks and Ra'venna's patience is running thin. They cannot afford delays, not when they don't know what awaits them.
They still have two weapons left to collect. And less than five moons to do so. The thought of running out of time accelerates her heartbeat.
The door of their bedroom creaks open and she whirls around in an instant. "They say the storm is dying and clear weather is on the horizon. They estimate two more days and we'll be able to depart," Helio says.
For the most part Ra'venna has remained hidden in the walls of their ships. The few times she has ventured out it has been with her hair concealed beneath a wrap. Revealing her identity poses too much a danger while they are stranded within the bounds of Quvania.
"They have said the same before," she retorts.
"We can only guess."
"And if the guess is wrong we will be devoured by a tempest," Ra'venna hisses.
Sighing, Helio shuts the door behind, a habit developed when they shared the ship with Avdon and Amsyn. Their time here has given him plenty of time to ponder all the ways Amsyn could get hurt. Last night was the second night in the row he dreamt of that day in Udor and how he found her.
Luckily, Ra'venna has been to on edge to notice. He doesn't want to relive the past - not his days in Quvania, nor the ones in Udor. His hand comes up to massage the area above his nose where a headache has begun to bloom.
It's Ra'venna turn to sigh. She drops her crosses arms and closes the space between them. She wraps her arms loosely around his athletic middle. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid my patience is low."
He loops one arm around her while his other hand comes up to stroke her cheek. "It's alright. I, too, am worried. I fear the storms are a bad omen of what is to come," he admits.
"You have never been suspicious before," Ra'venna observes. Her brows knit together as she stares up at him.
"Much has happened." Ra'venna cannot deny that. Wraiths have risen. The Storm Children have come. The Ancient has broken free. The world is plagued by evil, unworldly and incomprehensible.
"And more will," Ra'venna finds herself replying.
"Yes," Helio confirms, drawing circles on her cheek with his thumb.
——-
This time the prediction of the sailors proves true. The skies are clear for as far as the eye can see. There isn't so much as a trace of a cloud and no one is waiting to spot one. Ra'venna and Helio are no exception.
She stands against the rail on the other side of the spoked wheel. Her violet hair is cocooned in a vibrant, patterned wrap. She stares out at the departing ships and then at the beach increasingly in the distance.
Their destination - Maeinlien Island - a day's flight away. The oddly shaped landmass in the Osec Ocean exists directly above Krussithra, the famous Mer city. It's frequented by both Mer and merchants of the other races. It is the surface world's only link to the world below.
The struggle will not be in reaching Maeinlien Island, but in being granted entrance to Krussithra. Dwellers of the surface world are seldom ever granted permission to enter the City of Mer. They were welcomed before because of the vision of the Mer Seer, Itia. It is likely they will have such luck again.
