As the night wore on, Emi ate her evening meal there at the Lost Sailor’s Widow, then excused herself for the night. She was accustomed to the gentle roll of sleeping on the water and greatly preferred it. She intended to have Wavedancer to herself for the night. While she wasn’t necessarily opposed to another night with company, they were about to embark on a mission that would likely take several days. A break from other people felt extremely necessary.

As she neared the catamaran she called home she passed a wizened sailor of indeterminate race. Focused as she was on getting to her berth, she nearly jumped out of her skin when his gravelly voice reached her ears.

“Yeh’d best be careful, Miss,” he told her in a low tone. “Lady Cazri be a powerful person ‘round these parts.” He paused and tilted his head to one side as he looked at Emi, “Yer not from around here, are ye?”

“No,” she responded cautiously, “what do you mean about Cazri?”

The old man snorted, “Didn’t think so, else yeh wouldn’t be meddling in affairs not yer own. Yeh just be careful, young lady. She be a pow’rful strong alchemist and guild leader. Yer little more than a tool to get what she wants, and only she be knowing what that be.” He fell silent for moment then nodded toward the Wavedancer, “Enough of that though, is that pretty little thing yers?”

Emi stored the man’s warning away in her mind and brightened as she half turned to her ship, “Yes, this is Wavedancer. I built her myself. We’re a long, long way from home.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emi rose from her bed in the port side hull and stretched. She placed her fishing knife in its usual place at her belt and looked at the fishing harpoon leaning against the wall. She’d never even considered using it against another person, but now? She was striding boldly into dangerous territory. Could she really afford not to be at least somewhat armed? She looked at her reflection in the mirror over her wash basin.

Why are you doing this, Emi?

Her companions were intent on getting the sword and closing this Demon Gate thing, but surely others might want that kind of power for themselves. The tone of conversation last night had certainly insinuated such a thing.

What good can you possibly do? You don’t have any abilities or super strength. You’re just a simple sailor. You should be minding your own business.

She picked up the harpoon and ran her other hand down the smooth wood of the handle. The Luhnstone blade shimmered back and forth between blue and purple as she hefted its familiar weight. The harpoon had been a gift from her father when she had proved herself capable of sailing solo. She looked up at the picture of her father in a frame hung beside her mirror.

What do I do, Poppa? I’ve never seriously harmed another person, even in self-defense. That is likely to change in the next few days.

She quieted her thoughts for a moment as though waiting for an answer from her father’s spirit. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Back home there would be no question about helping even if it were on the furthest island of the archipelago or if the residents of that island were sworn enemies. A threat of this magnitude had to be stopped no matter the cost. She’d only been in this part of the world half a year, but this was home now. All told, there might not be much she could do, but she would do what she could.

She straightened her shoulders, briefly laid a fond hand against the picture of her father, then climbed the ladder to the deck. She made one final round of checks that all was well and secure with Wavedancer, then determinedly made her way to the rendezvous agreed upon the previous night.