The floor was warm, and hard, like some kind of rock. Jack poked the ground next to his face, an overpowering sense of deja vu momentarily eclipsing the scraping sound his nails made against the surface beneath him. For some reason, he had expected stone.

His eyes slowly peeled themselves open, taking in his surroundings through the slit of fading light filtering between his scrunched eyelids. There was his hand. Check. And there was the wooden deck beneath him. Check. And there was the sole of a giant, hobnailed boot, inches from his nose.

“Hi Erin,” he rasped out.

“Hello sweetie,” Erin’s voice opened his eyes the rest of the way. It was not a friendly greeting.

He was face down on Toben’s raft, floating down the river. The sun was setting.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

“Yyyyyeeeeeepp,” Erin growled.

“Not my fault,” he groaned.

“Hey! He’s awake... again,” Layla laughed.

“Nnngghhfffftththhhhhhhh... “ he blew out a handful of unconnected syllables in a wordless complaint.

“Soooo… guess how long you were out for this time,” Layla laughed at him.

“A day?” he guessed.

“Yes, jackass,” Erin bonked him with the flat of her hand.

He pulled himself upright, leaning on Erin’s leg, then collapsed against her.

“I feel like I got run over by a giant snake,” he scowled.

Rory chuckled somewhere behind him. Layla snerked, but hid her laugh behind her hand. Erin did not smile.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, dangerously.

“I would like to decline to answer, on the grounds that it may serve to intimidate me,” he winced.

With a clank and a thump, she tossed him off her lap, pulling up to kneel and shove her gauntleted fist in his face.

“Jackson Avery Holt! If you EVER do ANYTHING like this again… YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH YOU ASSHAT!,” she ranted.

“I love you too, Erin,” he replied.

“I SWEAR TO- …. what… “ she stopped, frozen.

“I said I love you too,” he smiled.

“I... “ they watched as whatever frozen internal process in their vanguard tried to reboot itself.

Seconds passed. Nearly a minute.

“I…” she faltered.

He smiled serenely.

“You… I… you can’t just... I…” she sputtered.

“I love you too,” he said again.

Layla stood near Toben at the tiller. “Damn he is smooth,” she whispered.

“He will be a very successful husband,” Toben nodded.

“I… fucking, goddammit Jackson. You can’t just-” she growled.

“I love you,” he was still smiling.

She rose to her feet, “Say it again. I swear I’ll throw you off this boat.”

“I love you, Erin,” he grinned.

She stomped toward him, apparently intent on making good on her threat. She lunged at him, grabbing him by his cuirass's armpits, but when she yanked him up, he deftly dislodged her hands and gripped the neckline of her breastplate, pulling her forward into a deep kiss.

Her arms spun wildly in the air for a moment, then found his shoulders, then his chest, where she slapped at his armor a few times, thick, meaty bells of metal on metal.

Her hands trailed down to the buckles of his chest plate, where she suddenly gripped him with all her might and yanked upward. His hand clenched around the collar of her chest plate, and a burst of thick, hooked shadow tentacles uncoiled from Jack’s shoulders and arms, twisting around her arms and waist to arrest her powerful heave. She jerked him forward again, trying to wrench him off balance, but he stepped into her stance and planted a foot on the thick deck of the barge, causing it to sway wildly in the water. Behind them, there was a rustling thump as Rory tipped over into their bags and bedrolls. Jack dropped his stance and grabbed the bottom of her cuirass, hauling her forward into another kiss. She jerked back, away from his lips.

“YOU OBNOXIOUS” she snarled.

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling her closer again.

She suddenly deflated, “I’m still stronger than you.” Her lower lip protruded dangerously.

“Yes, you are,” he grinned, and the heavy shadows evaporated, the dark mist carried away by the wind

“I love you too, Jack,” she continued to pout. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’ll do my best,” he smiled.

“Oh, seriously, fuck you two. I need a fucking toothbrush so I don’t get a goddamned cavity,” Layla began to vigorously pantomime gagging herself with a finger and upchucking over the edge of the boat.

Meanwhile, Rory had righted himself and was working on getting untangled from the mess of rucksacks.

“You two are adorable, but next time you decide to have a kaiju deathmatch to make up, maybe not ON A FUCKING BOAT IN THE MIDDLE OF A RIVER, yeah?” he groused.

Toben hadn’t stopped laughing since the second time Erin tried to toss Jack into the river, and it didn’t seem like the big man was interested in stopping now. He stood, leaned over the tiller, holding his sides as his laughter echoed back from the riverbank.

“The village is another four hours downriver. We will continue rather than anchor and camp again, yes?” the giant finally composed himself.

“Sounds good, biggie. Any cute boys in your village?” Layla cocked an eyebrow at him.

“To be certain. There are many eligible young men,” Toben winked at her.

“Oh, I don’t wanna marry ‘em. I just wanna ruin 'em for other women,” Layla laughed.

The big man shot her a concerned glance.

“She just means she wants to have sex, then leave the village when we head north” Rory explained, rubbing his temples. It seemed like he had a permanent, Layla-shaped headache these days.

“Ahh,” understanding was painted on the big man’s face. “This is allowed. How else are a couple to know if they find each other satisfying?” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be satisfied,” Layla smirked.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Toben murmured.

“So, you wanna talk about what happened?” Jack lifted his chin at Toben.

“The Earthmother has granted me her blessing, through you,” Toben grinned. “You have my sincere thanks, my friend. No member of our clan has carried a divine sign since the time of my forefathers.”

“What does that mean?” Jack took Erin’s hand and gave her a smile, before turning back to the boatman.

“The mark will extend my life, make it easier to grow in power, and when I pass into the Still Waters, if one of them is worthy, my children will inherit its blessing,” he replied. “At least, that is what the old tales tell.”

“It won’t cause you any trouble with the Empire? Or the inquisition?” Jack asked.

“It is doubtful any will recognize it for what it is. And if someone should ask, I will tell them I finally received a spirit mark from becoming a stronger Soulbrand,” he chuckled.

“Is that your class?” Erin spoke up.

“It is the path I pursued in my youth. Might, writ upon the skin for all to see,” he traced the whorls of silver on his skin, turning so the four could see how the patterns interlocked in a few places. “It lends me strength, this one resilience, this one the savagery of a hunting beast for a short time, each one earned by challenging the trials set by the Old Ways.”

“What changed?” Rory asked. “Why did you stop?”

“A warrior does not make a good father, or a good husband. Drenched in blood, every night hounded by the faces of those you have slain. I am happy with this life. And if the power I pursued in my youth makes it easier to protect the love I have gathered in my old age, all the better,” he smiled gently.

The four shared a knowing look. The boatman wisely ignored them, staring down the river at the home waiting for him just a few hours away.

-----

They arrived at the village late into the night, happy to note that it sat on the north shore of the river. As they helped Toben unpack his few supplies, they quibbled with him about his invitation to stay the night in his home. He finally put his foot down, informing them in no uncertain terms they would stay under his roof, eat his food, and accept his hospitality, since he could empty his entire clan’s coffers and the value wouldn’t equal the gift he had been given by Ilani.

In the lambent moonlight, they could see that Mistelein was a large fishing village, nearly the size of Nafsbirg, though significantly more humble in construction. It turned out, Toben’s home was one of the largest and most affluent dwellings in the town, which meant it was made of stone instead of wood, like the majority of other buildings. As they began unloading the boat, Layla hefted a sack of provisions and headed toward the front door, then suddenly stopped.

“Guys… you’re gonna wanna c’mere,” she murmured.

“What was that, El?” Erin called quietly, trying to avoid waking the whole village.

They turned to see Layla’s status panel open, spun toward them. The three quickly walked to her to get a look at the message she’d received.

You have entered the domain of a crystallized mana font with the Tide aspect.

You possess the Seal of the Compass Wind. Do you wish the Compass Wind to guide you to [Dead Strand Grotto]?

[Yes] [No]

“Holy shit.”