Varin had never been on a boat. The floorboards beneath his feet creaked with each step, salty air piercing his skin and sticking to his beard. Each time he licked his lips, he recoiled and felt the skin peeling. It was muggy today, but the sea air seemed to drain him of any moisture he had in his skin with ease.

There were groups of people walking around the boat, most of them wearing loose fitting tunics and beige pants that cuffed beneath their kneecaps. Each of the crewmen had shoes that were tattered, their faces sunken with sorrow and wrinkled more than a raisin. They grunted as he slipped through the crowd, walking down the stairwell into the belly of the boat. Beneath, it was even more alive than the deck. To the rightmost side was a wing full of cabins, men entering and exiting as they pleased. They looked stately, with well fitted clothes and soft, untextured skin. There were a few women, although all of them held children at their breast. It was uncommon for women to travel, the high seas were unpleasant for those expected to birth and feed their young.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth, but all he could do was shrug it off and find his room. It would be where he and Thaddius would reside once the ship departed in the coming hours. Varin had decided it was best he left earlier than his satyr friend, though, else he would be forced to interact with Leolina and that good-for-nothing doppelganger. What was she hoping to get out of that clone anyway?

Have us all go grab a cup of tea, eat a biscuit or two and make conversation?

Varin felt his stomach churn. He wondered what the twin would act like given the opportunity to converse. How could such magic take something so intimate as personality and recreate it out of thin air? It smelled like a disaster waiting to implode. Plopping his bag onto his bed, he turned to the other side of the room and eyed the corner Thaddius would claim. It would be a short trip to Axulran, two eves and half a morning, but he knew the tides would get rough. Apparently, there were unspoken stretches of water in the Emerald Strait that they would not be able to cross, and as such, they would be required to go around it. He would be a bold faced liar if he said he was not curious about this stretch of water. Sirens were a myth, surely, but the way the passerby were making a fuss made him wonder if those singing beauties would lure him into the waters.

If only his fate would be that sweet. Surely, death by a loving siren beat the brutal death of dismemberment, or a blade through his chest. Varin chuckled to himself, he couldn’t believe he was debating which was worst—the sharp, razorblade fingernails of a siren, or the steel blade of a warrior? Easily enough decided, he thought.

Above him was a ruckus. The sounds of metal clanking to the floorboard echoed throughout the belly of the ship, a group of men hollering after. When he retreated from his quarters, closing the door behind him and sticking the key in his pocket, he found himself amongst a crowd trying to make it up. When the sun greeted him at bay, he saw a man on the ground, blade to his throat, and two more guards on either side.

“A thief loses their hands, and a liar his tongue! Which are ye today, boy?”

Varin moved past some of the bystanders, eyeing the accused with a scowl. He hated seeing people—guilty, or innocent—put on display as an example. It rarely worked, and if done in poor taste, could cause a riot.

If a riot started on this ship, the trip would be delayed. Varin couldn’t have that.

“Gentlemen,” Varin said, taking a final step toward them before stopping, “why don’t we let this poor fellow go?”

“Go?” The guard chuckled, his blade still pressed firmly against the adam apple of this boy. “He stole, and he has to own up to it!”

Varin turned his eye downward to the supposed thief, tapping his finger against the pocket of his pants. The boy was no older than fifteen, with ragged brown hair and a scar crossing the bridge of his nose. With eyes of amber, he looked at Varin with this pleading gaze.

Taking a knee next to the boy, he ignored the guards disapproved grunt and referred to him personally. “Your name?”

Varin could tell he didn’t want to respond at first, but after an exaggerated gulp and wince from the blade grazing his skin, he whimpered out a response. “Vincent, sir.”

“Vincent.” Varin tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyeing the long and neglected blade, iron tainting the silver finish and dulling the reflection of the sun. “What happened here?”

“I was boarding for my trip.”

“Trip!” The guard roared. “This boy tried to steal a hard working man’s seat! Axulran doesn’t want the likes of ye!”

Varin held his hand up to the guard, letting out a sigh before dropping it back to his side. “Did you have a place on this ship, Vincent?”

This was when he grew still. Varin pursed his lips and stood, turning to look at the guard once more. Although he continued to refer to Vincent, he kept his gaze straight on.

“Tell you what, Vincent. I’ll secure you a place on this ship, out of my own pocket, but only if you apologize to the guards and promise not to make a fuss.”

Varin could tell they didn’t like this by the scowl on the guards face. Varin did something daring—he grabbed the free space on the leather handle of the sword, urging him to release the pressure. This could have gone one of two ways. The first, and most likely, would be he lost his wrist and the boy would have been made an example of. Or, more preferably, he could have won the guard over and prevented a massive fight right before they set sail.

After a brief moment of silence, the man let go of the boy and sheathed his blade. Varin ignored whatever response they served and offered a hand. Vincent accepted it, but not without hesitation. When he stood upright, Varin took note of his poor posture and sunken eyes.

“Where are you from, Vincent?”

“Javunger, sir.”

Varin winced at the thought. Javunger was a town that he considered cursed, just near the southeast coast. There was always something wrong, may it be the cursed tides rolling into the village to flood it, or a plague that killed the children and women only. The worst he remembered was when a group of heretics ransacked the village. Now that he was wiser and experienced Seraphine’s turmoil, he knew the heretics were likely her little minions.

“I see. Well, Vincent, I am buying you your spot on this ship,” Varin said and reached into his pocket, counting the exact amount of gold pieces it cost. “If I do not see you aboard come the evening, I will find you and bring the guard along with me. Understood?”

Vincent’s eyes glowed at the sight of the coin, nodding his head quickly. “What is your name?” He asked after accepting the money.

“Varin,” he said with a smile. “I am off for now, though. Try and stay out of trouble until the evening comes.”

“And then?” Vincent asked as Varin began to depart.

“And then we can cause some trouble of our own.”

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

The town felt empty. Many of the homes had been restored, the only buildings left in decay being the tavern and shacks that were not worth the effort. Rumor had it the matron of the tavern, and her family, could not afford to rebuild. He wished so badly he could investigate that issue further, and perhaps use some resources of his own to help, but it was unlikely that would happen. Not until he returned, at least.

He had to find Senevia, to bid her a farewell before venturing off. It was the last thing to do—the only thing after that was greeting Aiora’s clone. Only, this time she would supposedly be walking, talking, and following them around like a puppy dog.

It still made him queasy.

He wandered the City of Daggernest mindlessly, hands in his pockets and eyes wandering the villagers with hope. Every time a little girl would run by him, he would feel his palms get clammy. Each time he was left disappointed, though—none of them were Senevia.

On the other side of the marketplace, though, was a beautiful dark haired vixen, lifting a wet dress from her washing board and hanging it over the fence to dry. Her skin glistened in the sun, a sign she had been working tirelessly in the spring heat.

He figured saying goodbye to Adeline couldn’t hurt, After all, he wasn’t so sure he’d be returning in the first place. His expectations for luck were diminishing more and more as each solemn day passed him by.

“Adeline,” he greeted as he approached. She lifted her eyes to Varin and grinned, those ocean eyes lighting up brighter than the sky itself. “I came to bid you farewell.”

That was when her smile dropped. “Farewell? Why, Varin, you just got here!”

Chuckling, he nodded. “Indeed, but I do not have long. I am traveling to another kingdom shortly, but I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

Adeline set down the clothes she was rinsing and stood, wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress. “Where are you venturing off to, Varin?”

“Axulran.”

“How cold,” she said and smiled. “I hear it is frozen all year long.”

“It will remind me of home, then.”

Adeline smiled sadly and nodded. “When will you return, then? Surely you won’t leave me long.”

Varin bit the inside of his cheek, studying the honeysuckle features of her face. She was alluring in every way, it often caught him off guard. It was rare he found himself so fixated on a woman. “I hope to return as quickly as I left.”

She pouted just enough for it to be noticed, letting out a dramatic sigh before turning, her back to him. “Would you help me? I want to remove my necklace.”

Varin eyed the back of her neck as Adeline moved her hair. Reaching up to move the strands that were still there, his fingertips trailed the curve of her shoulder. Few tiny freckles sprinkled across her skin, mimicking ink blots on a white canvas. He untied her necklace and offered it to her as she faced him yet again. She shook her head.

“I want you to take it with you.”

“With me?”

Adeline grinned. “Yes, Varin. It was from my home.”

“Your home? I thought you did not enjoy your homeland?”

“I don’t, but it is my roots. I know you are not from Traburg, Varin, but it’s your roots. Correct?” Adeline asked, to which he responded with a nod. “Then let this serve as your reminder. To come back and return it to me, later.”

Varin nodded slowly, looking at the pendant with a curious eye. It felt familiar to him, with the way the red ruby glistened beneath the bright afternoon sun. There was no reason for this feeling, but it was prevalent. “Alright, then. Until then, Adeline.”

Standing on the tips of her toes, she left a chaste kiss on his cheek and curtsied. “Until then, Lord Varin. Have safe travels.”

Backing away, he felt his cheeks flush before making way to Lighthelm. He adored her affection, but as he twiddled this pendant between his fingers he found himself questioning the energy that surrounded it. It was nothing more than a ruby pendant, one he had surely seen her wear the last few times he was with her, but it felt different in his hands. Slipping it into his pocket, he decided to ignore it and shrug it off to nerves. He had a lot of those right now.

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

Varin stood in that lobby for what felt like eons. He hoped Senevia would walk by, stopping just long enough for him to say goodbye. There were many children here, taking refuge while the village built an orphanage for them, but none of them were his newest mentee. As the sun began to tuck between the treeline, he knew his time was dwindling, and he had to come face to face with Aiora’s twin.

So, he stopped being a coward and did the only thing he could. He entered Leolina’s office. It was still, Thaddius sitting alongside Jaspar with a mug in his hand. They were conversing quietly while Leolina stood in the corner with it. The weirdest thing about it all was that it was responding to her. It talked.

Varin watched from that very spot for a while. Nobody took notice of his presence until he cleared his throat. That was when his stomach churned.

It turned to him, with eyes as gray as a stormy cloud and hair to match. When it smiled, he almost fainted. It was as lifelike and true as Aiora herself, but he knew it not to be reality. He knew it to be nothing but dark magic.

“Varin, I trust you are ready for the trip?” Leolina inquired.

“Where is Senevia?” He asked, ignoring the headmistress.

Leolina smiled, taking a few steps toward him. “She was out in the courtyard last I saw, sparring on a dummy. You trained her last, no?”

Varin nodded. His lips twitched into a smile at the thought, but it was nothing more than a reflex. Just as quickly as he showed joy, it was gone.

“I will call for her, do not fret. But you have to meet the doppelganger. It is better to get used to it now, as opposed to later.”

Varin cleared his throat, taking a few steps forward when the headmistress moved to the side. Her hand grabbed onto Varin’s arm, though, halting him briefly. “I must warn you, she feels… peculiar. I used a few things from Aiora’s room to make her as true to life as possible, but nothing is perfect. Not even magic.”

Varin glared at her through the corner of his eye, moving away from her grasp and stood before the doppelganger. She stood, tall and upright with her hands in front of her—much more polite than Aiora would ever stand.

“I am Aiora.”

The wind was knocked out of him. A throbbing sensation plagued his forehead, and his vision grew blurry. “No, you’re not.”

“I am Aiora, another version of her.”

Varin turned to look at the headmistress, gritting his teeth to appease his rage. “How is this possible?”

“That is for another day, Varin. Just have faith.”

“Faith?” Varin chuckled, backing away from the doppelganger and clenched his fists. “I will have faith when Cateline is awake and well. I will have faith once Aiora has returned from Seraphine’s grasp. That’s where you say she is, no?”

Leolina clearned her throat, nodding. “By her own will, yes.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. What do you want us to do with this thing, anyway?” Varin asked, violenting gesturing toward the doppelganger with his lips curled back. He had never felt so much rage toward what should be considered a miracle.

This was when Thaddius stood, approaching his dearest friend with open palms. “Varin, it makes me feel just as uneasy, but the headmistress is right. For now, faith is all we can hold on to. Aiora will serve as our scapegoat while we are in Axulran, alright?”

“That isn’t Aiora!”

“Alright, fine. The doppelganger will serve as our scapegoat, but you’ll need to find a name for it. And fast.”

“It doesn’t deserve one.”

“You are as stubborn as a newborn, Varin.”

He chuckled sourly, pinching his palms with the tips of his fingers. “So, Leolina, go on. Tell me more of this masterful plan you have.”

“Thaddius is well aware of it, Varin. There is a book of spells and instructions that you will bring with you on your journey. Is there anything else?”

Leolina’s tone was acidic now, but her gaze was still relatively gentle. Varin could tell how his reaction irked her, but she had no choice but to let it slide. If she didn’t, she’d be out of a voyager.

“Of course not, headmistress.” Varin said and headed for the door. “Only the most formal of responses for you, headmistress.”

Thaddius muffled a laugh before quickly following suit, calling after Varin as he made way to the exit. If that thing looked at him one more time, he would lose it. He had no idea how he would survive a trip in an unknown kingdom with that thing, all while trying to uncover Cateline’s origins and save her soul, but he had to figure a way fast.

And to top it all—he only wanted to say goodbye to Senevia. Just in case it was the last time he saw her.