AT SEA

14th of Johannar, 1197 SA

The Mid-Erisian Confluence

How was it that the sun, so small against the vastness of the void, was supposedly so massive? Massive enough to swallow Halrin many times over, if the natural philosophers were to be believed. And if Marie were, in this moment, to believe them, how could it simply disappear behind the horizon? She knew the answers, albeit vaguely (it's far away, or we're spinning, or maybe something else...), but the way they rubbed against her intuition was infuriating. Maybe these were questions for higher minds, but it didn't stop her from staring at that confounding inferno as it dipped below the waves.

Four days had come and gone since the three had departed from Hranost. Their ship, the Benevol, now crossed the border between the North and South Erisian Sea. It was a fine vessel, outfitted with a prototype something-or-other and a steel who-knows-what. The exact details and minutia escaped Marie's interest, though they'd latched on to Tom's curiosity like nothing she'd seen before. He'd been spending the days scrambling around the deck, taking notes and interviewing every crew member who'd spare him their time.

It hasn't been annoying, per se. It's just that he's so... persistent. Like- like a fly, buzzing about in people's faces. No, no, that's a bit harsh. Harsh... and yet so accurate-

"A beautiful sunset, isn't it, Lydia?"

Marie froze, still facing the open waters. Oh, Meris above, you really do work in mysterious ways.

"Hello, Tom," she smirked, spinning to face him. Tom's expression dropped immediately, cheeks filling with red.

"Well?" Marie pressed. "Anything more to comment on that sunset, or was that all you had?"

"From- from the back, you two look so-"

"No, no, it's alright. The lighting's quite poor as well. I'm sure Lydia won't take it personally when I tell her you tried to flirt with me." Marie tried to wipe the smirk off her face and stay poised, but the situation was simply too delightful.

"Well, that's not really what happened," Tom stammered. "You see, I thought-"

"Oh, I know what you thought, Tom... Thomas." She narrowed her eyes, scanning the ball of nervous energy in front of her. "Aren't you supposed to be a prodigal bard? Where's that suave demeanour of yours?"

"I- I have a process... to get into character," Tom muttered. "It's actually quite complicated-"

"It's actually quite useless, is what it is. Look at you! You're a bard who can't improvise!"

"Yes I can!" he snapped back. "I can! In certain, very... specific situations. Though really, what do you expect me to do right now, in this disaster of a scene!?" He was huffing and puffing now, arms raised in the air as he tried to make his point. But Marie's ignorance was simply too strong.

"Be better," she said with a shrug.

Tom's expression shifted from one of frustration to one of sheer bewilderment. "Be better? Be... better!? What am I supposed to do with that?!"

Marie shrugged again. "Come now, I can't give you all the answers! And, between the two of us, who spent four years attending the Bardic College of State? If you didn't learn what you needed to there, then... oh... unless you lied on your resume, that is. Did you, Tom? Did you lie!?" Marie waved her fingers spookily, before bringing her attention to the approaching figure behind him.

"Lydia, Tom lied on his resume! He's never even been to college!" she yelled, pointing aggressively at her victim. Lydia simply rolled her eyes as she joined the two.

"It hardly matters now, Marie. He's done the job, hasn't he? I say he's earned his share of the reward."

"You're no fun, you know that? What if I told you he tried to flirt with me, hmm?"

Lydia suddenly froze, as did Tom. His face, having long sustained a red hue, suddenly drained to an unhealthy white. Even Marie cocked her eyebrows, wondering what she'd triggered. The silence seemed to last forever; a forever Lydia finally broke with a shrug.

"He's his own man, no? 'Tis not my place to fret whither his heart doth wander." She spoke with utter nonchalance, a complete turn from moments before.

"You see, Tom!" Marie exclaimed. "That is acting! And she pulled that line out of thin air! 'To fret whither his heart something something!' Brilliant!"

"I wasted my tuition money, didn't I," Tom sighed, a soft smile slowly growing in place of his anxiety. "It really was very poetic, Lydia."

"Ah, well, I'd be flattered if the words really belonged to me. Alas, I plucked them shamelessly from an old novella, so it seems you and I are both liars today." Lydia smiled, placing a hand around Marie's shoulder and squeezing hard. "We will need to have a long talk about you consorting with strange men, Marie. I don't need you getting whisked away while I'm not looking."

"Oh, come off it," Marie replied playfully, shrugging her sister's hand off. "I'd sooner toss myself overboard before letting him steal me away!"

Tom, having grown used to Marie's teasing, began approaching her with his arms outstretched in a menacing hug. "I'm really not so bad once you get to know me," he joked, prompting Marie to scream as she mimed kicking him away.

The last of the sun dipped past the waves as the three laughed against the railing of the Benevol. After a few more minutes of idle chatter, Tom eventually bid the twins goodnight, leaving the two alone with the sea.

"We- we're not really having a discussion about the strange men in my life, are we?" Marie asked, a hint of sceptical sincerity in her eyes. Lydia looked at her sister intensely before bursting into a snort-filled laugh that nearly took her over the railing.

"Absolutely not! If anything, I need to teach you how to stop scaring those men away!"

"Ah, I think I'm quite content to continue that tradition."

"Are you now? Oh, so be it... the wandering of your heart is another thing I'd rather not fret over. And anyway, there are more important things to talk about."

"More important than love!?" Marie exclaimed sarcastically.

"By far, dear sister, by far. Why talk about love when you can talk about money!" Lydia reached into her coat and pulled out a dark leather notebook. "We have many a road to travel and many a debt to pay off."

Marie's groaned. "Talk of money is only exciting when the number is going up, Lydia..."

"It is going up! It's going up... and then right back down. Here, take a look." Lydia opened the notebook to a middle page and pressed it into Marie's hand, watching as her sister scanned the page.

"Athica... Montag... La- Lavaud?"

"Lavaud," Lydia confirmed with a smile.

"Then we're going to Porto Mirale?" Marie exclaimed, her feet beginning to shuffle with excitement at the thought of returning to the beautiful port city in the southeast of Bellariva.

"It's time we paid Auntie a visit, no?" Lydia replied.

Marie paused. The smile on her face slowly faded as her attention refocused on her sister. "I- I'm excited, Lydia. I'm not sure why you are, unless you've forgotten how we left last time."

Lydia dismissed the sentiment with a wave of her hand. "We'll be perfectly fine. She can't possibly be upset with me after so much time has passed? Can she?"

"Who knows? Time works differently with the elderly. They're so busy doing absolutely nothing that the years just flash by. Except... well... I don't know if Aunt Lavaud really fits that mould."

"See, that's my point," Lydia responded, now pacing back and forth. "She's actually busy, engrossed in that ecological research of hers. I doubt she'll remember what I took. In fact, I doubt she remembers I took anything at all! And to top it off, we're not returning to her empty-handed. If, somehow, she still bears a grudge after four years, I can't imagine it'll hold fast in the face of 3,500 halia. That'd be her initial loan plus 1,500 of interest."

"Or... you could just return what you stole," Marie said blankly. "We haven't used it once since you nicked it off her, and I don't see you changing that any time soon. If it all."

"Now hold on," Lydia retorted, "I- I just haven't found the time, alright? You know, Marie, for as smart as you make me out to be, it's a very specific kind of intelligence. If you wanted me to write a five-page paper describing the thing, I could do that in a few minutes. But translating it is well beyond me."

"What compelled you to nab it in the first place?" Marie asked, her eyes drifting towards the inner pant pocket where she knew Lydia kept it hidden.

It was an odd thing, a tiny wooden box fixed into a metal armband. Thin cracks stretched around the whole of it, perhaps a quirk of the material. Lydia was convinced they formed a set of characters, the lines sometimes converging in patterned sequences, but she'd never actually deciphered any of it.

"What compelled me to grab it?" Lydia repeated, tracing over its edges through the fabric of her pocket. "I don't know… I'm a naturally curious person?"

Her sister raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied.

"What do you want me to say?" Lydia shot back. "I am a naturally curious person, Marie. Were there other factors? Maybe…"

Marie remained silent, holding her expression.

"I- I'm starting to think you know exactly why I took it, and you just want me to admit it."

Marie shrugged, still silent.

"Very well, I'll say it. I'm not ashamed, certainly not. The… the Orahni gypsy stories Auntie used to tell us growing up… I enjoyed them. And I'm sorry for making fun of you for liking them as much as you did. I say 'as much as you did' because you liked them a great deal-"

"I did not!" Marie retorted.

"Oh yes you did, dear sister, and I have the old drawings to prove it. Mind reading witches and all!"

"I drew Evi the Witch when I was eight, Lydia. You were twenty-four when you stole that thing from Auntie."

"Well you can't blame me, can you? Years of listening to folk tales about mystics, and then she finds an old Orahni artefact covered in runes-"

"Scratches. They're scratches, and I know that because four years have passed, and you still haven't proven otherwise."

Lydia shook her head. "These things take time, time I'll have once this is all over. Give me a couple months of peace and quiet and I'll figure it out. I always do," Lydia said, looking out over the darkened waves.

Marie tilted her head slightly at the statement. "What does that mean?" she asked.

"What does what mean?" Lydia replied passively.

"'Once this is all over'" Marie pressed, against her better judgement.

"I don't- who knows." Lydia paused to take a breath. "I just need a rest, Marie."

As she spoke the words, Lydia felt the waves pull at her. The movement was slow, predictable, stretching and folding in a stable rhythm. Back and forth, back and forth, motions she knew well. But unlike her writing hand, the waves could move for eternity without pause. Such was their strength, a perk of nature's immortality. Lydia was not immortal, a truth attested by the pain that had gradually been gnawing between her fingers and up her right arm for the past year. She had yet to tell her little sister, nor was she sure when that time would come.

She'd hoped for some respite after this job, but their call to Eisehafen had struck her as odd. Something told her there was more work to be done before they'd have a chance to visit their aunt.

"Lydia?" Marie spoke, interrupting her chain of thought.

"Yes?"

"What's going on with you and Tom? I've tried to understand it, but I can't tell if you fancy him or not."

Lydia smiled; at least this subject matter was lighter. "It's a little complicated, Marie. The real Tom is a tad bit too timorous for my liking, but I can't deny that feeling of awe when he really grips onto a character. It's impressive, it just is."

"But you're well aware that he isn't his character. You know that, and yet I see you blush around him regardless."

Lydia shrugged. "That much I can't help. But you won't see me actively pursuing him, I can promise you that."

"Oh, you don't have to promise me anything," Marie replied. "I was just curious, that's all. It- it reminds me a little..."

"Hmm?" Lydia questioned, turning to face her sister.

"No, it's just- I was looking at the sunset earlier and it reminds me a bit of that."

"How so?"

"Well, clearly there are things- like the sun- that continue to exist outside of our perception. In your case, maybe the sun is Tom, or rather Tom's refined persona. Something that exists but vanishes over and over again. So whatever attraction you keep feeling when he's behaving normally is just the part of you that knows the sun still exists, even if it's on the other side of the horizon. And... maybe that means the persona is just another part of him."

Lydia paused, staring proudly at her sister. "Look at you, Marie Terell. You're a fucking philosopher."

Marie's jaw fell slack, her eye widening. "Did you just curse at me!? You did! You cursed! I- I thought I was supposed to be the rude one!"

"Then it seems we're due a fucking role reversal, since you've become so eloquent!"

Marie rolled her eyes as Lydia tried her best to inhabit a character completely foreign to her. "You can't keep saying it again and again, Lydia. You sound like you've just learned the word for the first time."

"Okay, then teach me how to do it!" Lydia grinned, playfully elbowing Marie.

"This is incredibly painful to watch, actually, and I'm going to bed. Feel free to practice here... in the dark... by your lonesome."

"Oh, pish posh, Marie! You've riled me up, only to leave right after?"

"Goodnight, Lydia," Marie chuckled as she walked away.

"Goodnight, Marie," Lydia replied, turning again to face the sea.

This was a pleasant spot, now tinted with a fresh happy memory. Lydia saw fit to stay here for a while, at least until she grew exhausted enough to fall straight to sleep. That was the only way it happened now, the only way she could find any rest. Pain is a construct of the mind, Lydia. A warning that can be ignored. So watch, watch the waves. The way they move, the way they lap against the hull.

Back and forth... back and forth... back and forth...