The Gobbler Tavern was one of the few empty places of business in Bermuda, both the city and the island, which was specifically why Crow had chosen to go there. He was initially quite hesitant, after all an island with tourism and business at its forefront had no reason for a tavern to be devoid of life, but upon entering his skepticism was quenched by a striking and underwhelming truth. This place was filthy. So filthy in fact that even in the mid afternoon with beams of sunlight breaking against the side of the outside walls, the lighting inside was dim and gloomy- preserved from illumination by the thick layer of grime coating all of the windows. No one wanted to get drinks at a place which was far more hospitable to rats and cockroaches than people, as evidenced by the fact that the floor groaned in agony under Crow’s footsteps as though its sturdiness hadn’t been evaluated in years.

Not only was the building’s wooden flooring unkempt, it held no gem lanterns or torches. Then again that was probably a good thing, if the musk and dust clinging to the interior surfaces and air were any indication- being able to clearly see the state of the establishment was not a boon. The owner of the establishment was nice though. He was currently serving as the barkeep, pretending to care while Crow went on a tangent about how the Onī needlessly harassed him on the roof. He only stopped talking whenever he downed another gulp of beer from his mug. Well it was actually orange juice, but Crow liked to call it beer. He asked for beer, he was told he was too young for beer, he got orange juice. He'd finally reached the part where he had leapt down into the alleyway when the barkeep broke his impressive silent spell.

"My God kid, guess it's my fault for asking 'How are you?'" His voice was gruff and sounded almost strained, yet even between that and his unusual Bermudan accent Crow could make out the irritation in his voice.

"Wait, I was just getting to the good part."

"Is it by chance the end?"

"Well n-"

"Then not another word." He said firmly. Crow considered arguing, but a quick glance at the man’s expression dissuaded him. He hadn’t noticed earlier, likely due to being too wrapped up in his own story, but the barkeep’s face was a pattern of worn and aged scars. Skin wrinkled as it was, Crow would have put his age somewhere in the mid or late fifties. He still had a full head of hair though, flecked with grey as it was. He reminded Crow of old Bert back at Selsis, an old mystic who’d been a Knight according to some of the townsfolk. He had a distinct impression about him. Not of age necessarily, but of experience. Of life. This barkeep, much like Bert, had seen and done a lot.

"Fine then." Crow said, trying to avoid staring at the man any longer. "You have any stories you wanna tell?"

The barkeep took in a deep breath, there was excitement in his eyes, a spark of animation. And then it was gone. "Nothing." He said, broad shoulders slumped.

Crow rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. "So you have no stories at all?"

"Nope." He said, now cleaning the glass behind him.

"So mathematically, my story is infinitely more interesting than yours."

"Uh. It doesn't really work that wa-"

"So I should actually continue telling my story because you don't have the right to tell me to stop." Crow said, a small little smile finding its way onto his lips.

"Kid, if I have to hear another word about how you realized that there are consequences for breaking the law, I will kick you out."

"Fine." He groaned. "I'll talk about my trip here instead."

"Or you could just...not talk at all."

"Now where would the fun be in that?"

"I’m not so much interested in fun as I am a lack of irritation."

He chuckled then began "So it was sunny right? And-" Crow jumped as he heard the door slam open. He turned to see a boy around his age standing by the entrance. His hair was black with a red streak running down the middle, something his face also had- though in that case it appeared to just be a trail of blood running from the nose. He was tall and scrawny, really scrawny in fact- as though a strong wind would knock him down. What Crow found most notable, however, was the expression of utter annoyance he had, as though the entire world had collectively told him to go and fuck himself.

"Are you okay kid?" The Gobbler asked. His voice wasn’t like it was when he’d addressed Crow, the grumpiness had been drained from it- but so had any semblance of warmth, and as he looked he noticed the old man’s fingers were digging into his bar, splintering the wood beneath them with inhuman strength.

"Quite." The boy said sharply with a nasally voice. "Never been better even, why'd you ask?"

Instantly Crow understood why the Gobbler was so tense. Selsis had held a firework display a month earlier, when Crow’s sister Astra had come of age to join the Sieve. It had been a village-wide celebration, prodigy that she was. Everyone was so convinced she’d pass and no expense had been spared. Of course after watching the fireworks go off for nearly an hour, the giant pillars of coloured fire bursting free of their containers, Crow had gotten curious about how they worked. He’d found one lying on its side, lit but not going off, and picked it up. Old Bert had nearly beaten him bloody after he smacked it away just in time to avoid the blast from taking Crow’s fingers with it. This black haired bloody-nosed boy reminded Crow of that firework, an explosion just waiting for someone to get cocky and come close enough.

He resisted the urge to shiver, then swallowed and steeled himself to talk- he wasn’t going to have a prayer in the Sieve if something as simple as a teenager with a bleeding nose could get to him.

"Probably cause you're bleeding." Crow pointed out, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh I am?"

"You are."

"Well it'll stop."

"It should. One of the many wonders of the body." Crow said, a smile on his lips as he talked to the stranger who seemed to smile back. Could he have just imagined the sense of danger?

The boy sat on the stool next to Crow and tilted his gaze to the Gobbler who had an expression that made it clear he wanted no part in this conversation. The stranger either did not pick up on that or did not care. "Hi!"

"Hi. Can I get you someth-"

"Whatever he's having." The boy said, gesturing to Crow and the man just sighed and began working on the drink.

"I'm Crow." He said while the boy waited. The stranger turned to him, opened his mouth then closed it. His gaze narrowed in on Crow's green pupils, its sides blessed with ancient patterns of a forgotten language.

"Eye of Chronos." He said contemplatively. The air around his demeanor seemed to calm, like a dead sea.

"Oh you recognize the strain?" Crow tried to hide his smile at seeing his strain recognised. His family were supposedly direct descendants from the Deity Chronos, but despite that Crow was the first person in over a thousand years to inherit his strain, a form of magic which came from blood rather than practice. Of course he couldn’t use it to freeze time or duplicate himself like in the legends, but it was still something he had on his oh-so-perfect sister.

"My parents knew someone with that strain."

"That's nice."

"She was a cunt.."

"That's... not so nice." Crow admitted.

His expression was suddenly reignited with a brimming smile one again. He rested his hand on the counter. "It's fine, they were also cunts. Now colour me stupid if I'm wrong Crow but someone with that strain isn't just here for the sights."

"Yeah, I'm here for the Sieve, why'd you ask?"

Crow saw something light up in the back of the boy’s eyes, it was gone in a heartbeat but instantly reignited his earlier fear of the stranger. The black-haired boy picked up a rag from behind the bar and began to wipe clean his face, some of the blood having congealed into semi-solid clumps before being torn free by his ministrations. His mouth split into a wide grin as he answered.

"Crow my friend, what do you say we team up?"

"No."

"No?"

"That's what I said."

"What do you mean, 'No.'?"

"It means I don't want to."

"Okay but why?"

"Well I have to find my sister first for one."

"Crow." He raised an eyebrow as he looked at him. "How long do you think we have till the Sieve?" He stood up.

Crow's eyes widened as the Gobbler vanished before his eyes. He reached a hand towards him but slowly met the ground with a hard thump, his stool also vanishing. One by one, everything began to disappear, fading like ink from a book.

The stranger hadn't vanished, no, in fact he just stood there, looking quite amused at the whole scenario. The ceiling was now of an oily black stone and the only source of lights were the glow of the orange glyphs etched onto its surface. The walls and ground were sandy red. They seemed to be in the center of a circular room with five passages carved into its surface, all equally spaced.

Crow stood up. He'd only just begun to notice the dozens of people in this same room with them, all looking as befuddled as he felt. He looked at the boy. "Where are we?"

The newly cleaned up stranger raised a finger

"Wait for it." He said with an almost childishly giddy tone, and Crow heard a sound that wasn't travelling through the air, nor was it being whispered into his ears, no. It was from within him, like an inner thought but far more foreign, far more intrusive and it said. "Welcome to the Sieve. Current objective, escape."