I waited for a break in the waves before I let go of the ropes, and took one last gasping breath of fresh air—choking on the rain as I dropped back down to the cabins below.
It was quieter down here than I had anticipated, but not by much. Those who were not yet sleeping were shivering and bickering over blankets, and they paid me no mind as I sought out a familiar corner in the bunks. Sighing, I wrung as much moisture out of my hair and clothes as I possibly could by hand, before wrapping myself up in a threadbare blanket of my own.
The lightning continued to surge through the skies every few minutes, always followed by that vicious thunder, like the maws of the Abyss were opening up and groaning beneath us. The waves were getting choppy, and I had to push myself up against the wall as the ship began to heave and rock violently in various directions. The worse the storm got, the more of the young ones woke up and started to cry out in terror.
Too much.
It was all becoming too much. I had never done well in tight spaces, but the incessant whining, the erratic nature of the storm, the stale air, thick with the musky scent of far too many body odors combined... I grit my teeth, and every time the ship would jostle and jerk, my muscles would tense up in an effort to steady myself and avoid being flung across the cabin. I was too damp. It was too warm. My hair and clothes were sticking to my skin, rubbing and itching andgods,the children. They just keptscreaming.
Every sensory detail was becoming more uncomfortable than the last, driving me to the brink of madness. There was a reason why I would have rather braved the storm.
I couldn’t breathe. I should have stayed home. It wasn’t worth it. All of the knowledge, all of the answers, all of the arcane expertise in the world wasn’t worth the crushing pressure in my skull. Wasn’t worth the weight on my chest threatening to—
Breathe, Arken, I reminded myself.Breathe.
As I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I pushed the pungent taste aside. Instead, I focused on the subtle buzz of aether in the air, tugging it towards me—drawing it inward. I felt the warmth bloom in my chest as my Resonance stirred to life, heeding my call as I gathered the Light aether from all around me. Claiming it. On the exhale, I looked down at my fingertips, resting on both knees, and marveled at the way they glowed softly, illuminating this dark little corner of the cabin, just for me.
I had been doing this since I was a little girl and still, the comfort that my Resonance brought me was unparalleled. It was a gift—and a somewhat rare one, at that. Something I hoped to hone further at the Studium, gods willing.
That comfort was cut short by the grating sound of Percival Zephirin’s voice across the cabin, decrying our doom with a degree of entitlement that only he could possibly muster at a time like this.
“If we die on this godsdamned ship, my father will have your heads!” the lordling shouted up towards the deck above.
What a poorly-crafted threat. If we were to die in this storm, so would the ship’s captain and crew, leaving no heads to roll. Regardless, his outburst left some of the younger Resonants in shambles, and the cacophony of wailing intensified.
Gods, I hated that man—the sniveling heir to the House of Gales. Not that the others on board were much better. Why had I even subjected myself to this fresh Hel? I felt more isolated on this ship than I ever had in the Brindlewoods. Maybe Conrad was right, and this was all I had to look forward to…
But no. That couldn’t be. Amaretta had come from the Studium, after all. There would be more to Sophrosyne than just brats and bickering. There had to be. And so with every deep inhale—and each slow, measured exhale—I rememberedmy purpose and why the destination was almost certainly worth one relatively brief, uncomfortable journey.
You’re ready, Arken. It’s time.
As my breathing fell into a slow, comfortable cadence, I closed my eyes again and allowed my anxious mind to untether from these dank quarters, instead falling into the comfort of my memories.
Memories of pine, of moss, and of sunshine.
Chapter Two
Kieran
I entered the holding cell at a leisurely pace, casually examining my fingernails.
A man was currently shackled to the wall in said cell, struggling against his chains and spouting off a colorful slew of profanities, but I paid him no mind. Instead, I turned my attention to the man in uniform who had been threatening the captive’s life just before I walked in. Deep within the catacombs of Sophrosyne, the stone felt damp and dark—downright dreary compared to the brilliant light of the city.
“Report,” I barked at Hans Deering, my second-in-command.
“The fucker refuses to give us any answers. Claims his information was good the first time around. Can’t be bought, won’t name a price for the truth.”
My eyes flickered briefly towards the man in chains: Alistair Corvus—an old informant of mine.
“Now, now, Corvus,” I purred, meeting the prisoner’s beady, frantic eyes.
I slowly withdrew one of my daggers from the holster at my hip, and gently ran one fingertip across the edge of the blade.
“Everything has a price. It’s just a matter of if you’ll pay willingly, or if we take it by force.”
“You won’t do shit,Aetherwhore,” the prisoner seethed. “I already know that your precious Elders won’t allow you to kill me, and even if I did have the intel you wanted, I would take it to my grave.”
“Despite popular belief, that can be arranged, Alistair,” I shot back.