Gabrio mixed the spirits in front of Zyra. She watched carefully as the alcohol was poured in the bottles. Gabrio initially wanted to move out of the clinic, but seeing that she was going to lounge in bed all day. He allowed it.

“It was dictated that the wounded shouldn’t drink.”

“Nonsense,” Zyra refuted, taking the cup, “the alcohol keeps my wound from aching. It is god-send to me!”

Gabrio then leaned on the desk table. “So you can tell me more, right?”

“What’s there to even say? I fought, rested, and walked among great sceneries. I could tell you about how we defeated them, but what’s there to say? When you are in a deep fight, all you can remember is how fast your heart was beating, your mind working to keep and stay alive.”

Most of her stories were about how she had to climb things. Stab things to rescue her own self. Gabrio had thought she would have grander tales to tell, but she told him that there are reasons why it was hard to meet strangeness in the Icean Spine.

They were out of time.

That was the most simple reason that she told him. If they had time they would have thoroughly examined the Icean Spine. Searched every location and made sure that they would find something important.

But they simply have no time to do that.

Saving the world was quite an important task.

If they dared to slack in that regard, then no one would be alive because the Blinder of Light spent too much time roaming a continent. How laughable would it be to hear that the world ended because they spend too much time roaming?

“Time… money… health… It's best that we’ve managed to get along with the fleet. Even that fucking guy from the Commerce Guild is starting shit like how we’d need to pay for some commodities.”

“Oh, probably Rocco then.”

“See? I mean he’s not wrong, that contribution needs to be rewarded,” she took a swing of her cup. “But those who have little contribution would have to worry about purchasing these commodities.”

“Tough luck, then, but I bet that it’s only available in the main ‘city’ of the fleet.”

“That’s right. Rocco, that bastard, told everyone that it would be best if there was something like that. In a way, we really can't keep all the excess supplies we have. Arkshelled Island has started to grow tons of crops and plants. The elven has the ability to store some goods without wasting them, but it would cost energy to do so. So instead of wasting them, it would be best if they could throw it away or distribute them. Of course, if they come up with a market like that, imagine the consumption. And if a sudden disaster strikes? So Rocco proposed that it should be done once a week.”

“Hmm, reasonable that a market only happens. Wait, it sounds like they are planning to open some sort of market once a week.”

“It helps morale,” Zyra said. “The plan is to be self-sufficient after all. Who knows what’s going to happen beyond the Great Seas. We are totally blind now. Not a single ancient chart to look forward to other than the base instinct of our navigators and wise men.”

“I hope that’s not the case.”

“Land and route prediction takes work after all. They are trying to deduce the spread of the land. The distance and make a prediction of how far the islands are. There are also factors such as the water, the weather, and the dangers that may come during said days.”

All of them were at the mercy of mother nature. There is no such thing as an absolute plan and there is always something going wrong. Aon had been a continent of nations that had been taught well in the verses of suffering.

Tyrants, weathers, storms, plagues, and wars had been one of the many sources of tragedies that Aon had endured. There was no saying how the morale would go about in their journey.

“Trying to keep everyone from being afraid is impossible. I heard that they may have the Lady sing her songs to calm our nerves down during long storms,” Zyra said. “The sailors find the galleon as their home, but we are land lovers here mostly.”

“I hope she does,” Gabrio commented. “A healthy mind begets good health. The problems of the mind can be solved with faith. I believe that they are already using it, no?”

Zyra nodded, “You got that right. The Priests are making sure that our good people are worshipping the light furiously so that Terin could ‘have’ more power. In a way, there is a good in thinking that through collective power one could give strength. It may sound farfetch and idiotic, but there is good truth in that praying for the safety of the Terin would bring forth blessing.”

“Let me guess, it’s some sort of artes?”

“Perhaps, you do realize that we are not riding in ancient hulls? It acts as a conduit which gives forth power.”

She borrowed some paper and drew a ball with stick figures underneath the figure where she had arrows pointed at the ball.

“It looks like the prayers are turned into artes?”

“Yes they are.”

“How?”

“Collective power.”

“So faith in the god of light helps the Blinder of light.”

“It is mainly because we are like a candle suddenly lit in the dark that the moths gather.”

“Quite inappropriate to call the very itself a moth.”

“I’m drunk, and fascinatedly drunk. That is my excuse today.”

She went on about how the faith of the people was rather reliant. They even started to believe that the righteous sword of light was due to their prayers in the god of light. The worst part of it was that there is some truth to it. That their prayers were making it true. Of course, religious fanaticism was rather divided and controlled. As much as the Inquisitors and Priests would love to take this to another level. There was a certain degree of friendship that must be established and the worship of the earth mother was something that the Priests had to tolerate.

“Don’t be too drunk. I don’t want you to be careless.”

“Ah, I won’t. Am I not a surgeon?”

“Yes, you are. A surgeon of the blinder’s group. You would leave a legacy with you.”

“Legacy… hah, if only it was easy to reach the thousand islands. It was said that the Great Seas has ferocious legends. Do you know the history of the world? Have you asked why they didn’t progressed beyond the Icean Spine?”

“Is it because of how dangerous it was?”

Zyra stood up and used her empty cup as if they were a representation of what she wanted to make. She played around with the cup and said. “It was said that beyond the Great Seas lies far more dangerous creatures that we could not possibly fathom. Have you ever thought about it? Why was the sea made of corpses? Why did they construct such giant walls? Why could we have met such creatures that are taller than some of our higher buildings?”

Gabrio shook his head. He was a doctor and a half-baked surgeon. He didn’t have much knowledge in other areas. Other than the hooligan and rogue skills that the bored prisoners of fort rava would teach him.

“So what are your thoughts about it?”

“It’s hard to breathe here. And Lady Frigus said it herself that the ‘air’ of the Icean Spine is surely thicker and if we go further than the Icean Spine. Then think of it as climbing a mountain.”

“How could that be?”

“Hmm, think of our journey as an upward slope. The Icean Spine is elevated enough that you actually don’t notice that the fleet climbed upwards, and I’m sure that the fleet would have no problem as long as we have the singers blowing wind on our sails. The further we climb the higher it gets.”

She behaved as if she was wrestling to get the words out. She gave up and said, “The Arkshelled Island...you could say that it also functions as a natural source of fresh air for us. We gather sprites in the giant tree that grows on the back of the island to move our fleet. Ah, that reminds me, you have a treeheart now, so can you see?”

“I can see a glimpse.”

“Then you should know that there are new sprites. We are like a gathering of moths that are so appetizing to the giants of the Great Seas. I can’t imagine what we will be fighting. The thought of it makes my heart shiver.”

Fear was on her face. Then she clenched her hands together as if she was going mad at the thought of the coming future. Gabrio sipped silently and watched her try to compose herself. She was drunk or at least using it to vent.

“Must be rough.”

“Of course it is. Before this I was just a surgeon… and even without the identity of a surgeon. No one would look up to me as they do now. I was a killer you know?” She raised her lips like a maniac out of blood. A face that Gabrio had seen too much in the prison. But she was more of a maniac who had gone mad.

“You...said you were part of a clan right?”

“I was and still am. We are supposed to fight for the blue-blooded. If we want to be freed from our bond to the blue-blood then we need to fight and help them.”

“I don’t see you as someone who’d be willing to be part of such a bond. Is it a contract beyond our understanding?”

“Yes. It’s part of their noble blooded contracts,” she spat on the floor. Gabrio raised a brow at her which made a smile.

“I guess being part of that shithole made you nonchalant about killers.”

Gabrio nodded silently.

“Makes me jealous that you can hide it well.”

“No, it’s just that I’ve seen it long enough that I resolved myself to become better than what they were. I guess… you don’t have that choice with all of that.”

Zyra stared at Gabrio for a long while. Then she sat down while raising her cup for Gabrio to fill in.

“I would like to tell you, but I think it would be best if I keep you ignorant of some affairs.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m planning to be part of that affair. I’m...just a doctor of the grand-galleon of Milostiv. I want nothing more.”

Zyra nodded. She leaned on the headboard and sang,

Beware of the man who walks two lives!

He comes with a mask and sidles as fast,

Beware of the man who walks two lives!

For he comes with a third heart and a bow at hand!

Hear not his fateful hands, that lures the young and old alike!

Beware of the man who walks three lives!

For he may stab the blinder’s back!

“An ominous song,” Gabrio commented.

“An old shanty, back before the old times. Just as there is one chosen by the light, there is also the one chosen by the dark. The three-faced man and harbinger of the moon’s shine.”

“What an auspicious name,” Gabrio commented. “I hope I don’t get to meet this one. One super strong being is enough for a lifetime.”

“We will,” she said rather ominously, making the hair on Gabrio stand. “And when that day comes then let’s just hope that the light of the Blinder can recognize who are the friends and who are the foes.”

Gabrio nodded.

How he wished that the things he had thought bothersome was his normal. Monsters and the talk of chosen ones and destroyers made him feel like truly this was no longer the world that he was used to.