A small island, part of a long chain of many like itself that rests near the edge of the Reef. This chain can be followed all the way to the Hynix Archipelago, the closer one finds themselves to this landmass, the smaller they would find the influence of the Reef and conversely, the larger the influence of the land. The Island of Gil, residing very near the end of that chain has almost none of that influence, the lack of mana in the air as a result of this limits the size and strength of these outer islands, and Gil is no exception. Furthermore, what little mana does permeate the air is heavily tinged by the Reef, the large amounts of varying elements failing to mix and mingle in the same manner that they would if they had originated in the air.

Many scholars have pondered over this, trying to understand why all the different elemental qualities fail to coexist, instead fighting each other for dominance, resulting in the prismatic lights that Reefs across the world are renowned for in the water, and in the body of a Surface Race, they continue this fight, typically resulting in that unfortunate vessel coming down with the Burn. A horrible affliction, the Burn manifests first as a tingle, the mana charged waters playing across the skin.

Should someone deplete their reserves of mana, their body begins to draw in the ambient mana, above the surface this can be filtered and purified no matter how many flavors exist in the surroundings. However, in the Reef, not only does it seem that there are as many myriad elemental strains as there are colors and kinds of coral, the water itself seems to act as a binding agent, forbidding the Surface from gathering a single element without all the others present being gathered as well.

That means that if someone were to gather mana to replenish themselves from the water, after the tingle comes the second stage. Depending on the dominant elements in the area that was gathered from, the Burn will manifest itself as anything from sizzling and true burning of fire mana, to the horrific aches and pains of earth, even cuts and gashes of air, and any other combination.

Treating the burn, therefore, requires a true specialist, one such specialist can be found on Gil. The village chief, Brun, is dealing with a poor boy, barely thirteen, who had gone just a bit too far off shore, past the First Coral of the island, the area that signifies the earliest one is at risk of the Burn. The boy was drifting along, and managed to awaken his mana veins. Something every young boy looks forward to became this one’s nightmare, the ambient mana rushing into the newly opened pathways.

Found floating upon the surface on his back, his friend rushed to get him, not knowing what happened he found his and the boy’s mother, who in turn brought him to the chief. Fortunately, he was hit with a mellow mix, being primarily water and static, it sent him into convulsions, but hadn’t progressed to the point where he’d be at risk of heart palpitations.

The chief sighed, finished gently pushing his own mana throughout the boy, flushing out the two elements which remained at odds even as they dispersed into the air. Taking a deep breath, and slowly sorting out his own situation, he took a step outside, only to have his daughter rush into his arms.

“Dad, it’s been too long, why can’t we go look for Ret and Jeg?” She said, the concern dripping from her voice. Brun, too, was worried, that boy and his daughter had grown up together, and he thought of him as family. He’d been planning on having the two wed after he’d returned from his First Dive, an event that would signify him becoming a man and one of influence in the village, but it had been almost two weeks now. He had started to lose hope, and knew his daughter was too. What made it even worse was Jegs absence, the man was an accomplished Diver, someone who’d hunted a Reef Shark.

Trying to assuage the worries of his little girl and take his mind off his own fear, he looked out into the waters. What he saw did not bode well, an empty, battered boat, carried beside what appeared to be a small mountain of muscle stuffed inside a leathery green package. As they approached, a murmur spread through the village, many people gathering along the shore to watch and wait for the arrival of what they now see is a man. After a mostly quiet few minutes, filled only with quiet whispers and the choked sobs of those who could guess what was coming, he arrived. Towering over the rest of the villagers, dressed only in a watertight garb resembling a robe, he laid the boat onto the sand.

He said nothing, allowing the rest of the villagers to make their way over to the boat, the first to arrive reading the words carved into the sides “Ret, Jeg. Gil.” Three words, three simple words to set the crowd into motion. Some wailed, some collapsed, and some said nothing. Brun walked over to the boat, hoping to find something to prove it wasn’t true, while his daughter Hanna let loose a whimper. They all had their fears, but having them confirmed was another matter entirely. After a long moment inspecting the boat, finding that it really was true, he turned to the one who brought it, having to crane his neck to look into the behemoths eyes.

“Did you see them?” He asked, emotions making themselves evident in his voice and on his face.

“No.” answered the stranger simply.

“Do you know why?”

This time, he was met with a simple headshake.

“Thank you” Was all he said, before turning around and walking back to Hanna. The man stood there stoically, answering any questions he could, as well as he was able to. Brun and Hanna silently departing, heading back to their home, leaving behind the grieving village.

Rok loathed scenes like this. Despite how necessary he knew them to be, he always found himself mourning his own lost companions; one never makes it as far as Rok did without burying a few friends. He watched the chief, or at least a man who appeared similar to the chief he remembered from Gil, albeit younger, depart, with who he assumed to be the daughter being dragged along too. She was probably one of the closest to at least one of them. He looked around, seeing the many reactions a small village has to a loss like this, Confusion, anger, sorrow, and more.

Shaking his head, he regrets being unable to find the bodies, not knowing what happened will make it that much more difficult for this little community to accept and move on. He knew, however, that they wouldn’t be found. Whatever happened, be it a predator, a storm, or even just the Burn, they were lost. The waters were a cruel place after all. He turned and looked back in the direction he’d found the vessel. He’d go back there one day, and memorialize the two lives lost there.

Like this, he stood there for a while longer, until the sun had risen higher in the sky, soon to begin its daily descent. He turned and left without a word beginning his swim back to town.