Laurel stared at the door. She was standing as far from the door as was possible on the small ship. Loud chopping and mad roaring came from inside.

"He isn't really listening, is he?" Haltir muttered.

"Quiet. He is distracted now, but if he hears us, he might come charging outside. I'm not sure the two of us could hold him down until it's out of his system," Laurel whispered, her words barely audible above the waves.

Lark, whatever you do, don't speak to Est until I tell you, she thought.

Will Masster be alright? Lark replied, his mental voice dulled to a whisper.

Laurel smiled. She could hear the worry in Lark's voice.

He will be fine as long as we can keep him in the cabin until the demon-blood infection runs its course.

He'sss damaging me… Lark whispered, and a sound like a sniffle followed.

Don't worry. We can fix you after, Laurel tried to soothe the ship. It reminded her of her sister when she was young. Innocent but dangerous.

Lark didn't respond, and she turned to Eliandra. The spots on the young woman's face and arm had turned a dull grey, the edges bleeding slightly. It looked gruesome, but Laurel knew it was a good sign. The demon-blood was exiting her body, and she would be fine, perhaps a bit scared, but fine.

"How long will this last?" Haltir whispered, leaning against the railing while lifting and bending his injured leg and keeping his eyes locked on the door.

A burst of howling, unevenly pitched laughter came from the cabin, barely recognizable as Est. A second later, something heavy slammed into the door.

"It depends on how much blood he absorbed," Laurel whispered. "If he had as much as Eliandra, it shouldn't take longer than a few minutes. If he got more…" she shrugged.

"Fine. But whatever happens, don't hurt him!" Haltir said, staring at her with an obvious warning in his eyes.

"I won't! But I also won't let him kill us in some demon-induced rage," she hissed back. She hoped it wouldn't come to that and turned to the door.

The raging and screaming lasted for two hours, into the depths of the night, before it became weaker. Laurel and Haltir were tired and on edge, staring at the door. Eliandra was still unconscious, but her breathing had become calmer, and the wounds were slowly scabbing over.

--

I woke from a feverish dream where I fought against an army of demon-infused branches that wanted to strangle me. Sitting upright, it took me a moment to realize where I was. My head was a pounding mess. I remembered vaguely that Laurel had locked me in the cabin for some reason and that something had happened. Beyond that, it was all a hazy blur. At some point, my status-window had pinged, and I could remember more from that point on. Something about ripping branches apart…

Looking around, I saw I was still in the cabin, nestled in the corner. Pushing myself up caused my head to throb like crazy, and I groaned as I looked around. Splinters, parts of branches, and larger pieces of the tree were scattered throughout the room. The main trunk lay in the middle of the room, my ax blade buried deep in the middle, and weird symbols were carved all across it.

At least most of it seems intact, I thought with a sigh. If I had destroyed the tree during my… wait, what happened exactly?

I began thinking back, but all I knew was that I had felt angry, no, furious even! It had taken all of my willpower to resist rushing out the door and fighting anything I could find. Only the presence of the tree and the fact it was responsible for my pain had managed to keep me where I was.

Right, pain. Something hurt, I thought. As soon as I remembered, I realized the skin on my arms was itchy. Scratching them, I felt something flake off, sticking to my fingers. And raising them curiously, I saw dead skin and scabs hanging from my fingernails. My entire arm was covered in dead white skin and black and brown smudges of dried blood. Sucking in a breath and fearing I was permanently disfigured, I rubbed over my bottom left arm. The crud moved off easily, and pristine skin sat beneath.

That's weird, I thought. I remembered the ping from my status that stood out as one of the few clear memories and quickly summoned it.

> Demonic poison resistance 3/5

> Quick regeneration unlocked

> Demonic poison damage will no longer leave lasting damage. Any damage inflicted by demonic poison will result in a delayed burst of extreme regeneration that will heal suffered damage.

Blinking, I rubbed my face, removing hands full of filth. Thank Rathica for that, I thought, wondering if inflicted damage also meant damage from other sources. If it did, I might need to carry some demon-blood with me. Thinking of what the stuff had done to me, I wondered if it would be worth it when my hand froze. Eliandra! I remembered that she had gotten hit by the stuff as well. Where was she? Whirling around, I didn't see her anywhere, and I rushed to the door.

Pushing it, I found it was still stuck, and I noted the edge of the ax was still below it.

"Laurel, I'm alright again! Let me out!"

There was a moment of silence, and then I heard soft whispering from outside. Finally, Laurel's voice came, full of uncertainty.

"Est, how do you feel?"

"I'm fine! Let me out so I can see Eliandra! Is she alright? Did she wake up?"

It was quiet again, and this time I heard someone stumble to the door. Haltir.

"I'm going to open the door, but I'll have my ax ready, boy. Don't make me use it, please."

I frowned. How bad had things gotten if even Haltir said that? A moment later the ax blade disappeared from below the door, and I pushed it open.

Haltir stood with his ax raised in a battle stance badly executed due to his leg. He was examining me, seeming to search for something, and behind him, I saw Laurel, a dagger in all hands. On the ground behind her legs lay Eliandra.

"Eli!" I shouted, ignoring the others and rushing forward. Haltir moved out of my way, as did Laurel, and then I was at Eliandra. She was pale and had some dried blood on her cheek, but she seemed fine otherwise. Sitting beside her, I carefully wiped away some of the blood. She had three uneven wounds on her cheek, each the size of a thumbprint that was connected in the middle.

"She will wake soon. There won't be any lasting damage," Laurel said before looking at Eliandra's face. "Nothing serious at least."

As if she had heard us, Eliandra began moaning, and suddenly she shot up, her head barely missing mine.

"Wha-, Est!" She looked around and saw me. When she saw I was alright, she sagged back in relief.

"What happened?"

I shrugged, turning to Laurel. "I'm not sure. I chopped a root, and suddenly, that plant began shooting goo at us. You fell unconscious after getting hit, and Laurel used some potion on you."

"A healing potion?" Haltir hissed between his teeth, staring at Laurel with raised eyebrows. "You had one and didn't tell me?"

Laurel shrugged but didn't meet the old man's eyes. "Not now," she said, turning to Eliandra.

"The tree you and Lark grew is called a Demonblood tree. They grow in the Red Marshes that border the Howling Forest. They are inconspicuous, and their seedlings can take the shape of any other type of tree. The only way to recognize them is by the extreme vitality they radiate, and the triangular leaves."

"And they attack people?" Eliandra asked, rubbing her cheek carefully.

"Yes. Those without demon-poison resistance die within ten minutes. It's the reason most people choose to unlock it, as it's one of the most common causes of death around those parts."

"Ah, I should have unlocked that when I had a chance," Eliandra grunted. "I did chaos-resistance back in Dursic…" her words trailed off, and she stared at the door before yawning so wide her jaw popped.

"You should rest more! I'll get you some food and water," Laurel said, rushing back to the cabin.

I watched her move away and realized how contradictory the grablon woman was. She looked like a rugged mercenary, fought like one too, cursed like a fish-wife when stressed, but was a level-headed compassionate caretaker when people were injured. She had acted the same back underwater. And then the fact she had a healing potion but never even mentioned it… I shook my head, turning my attention back to Eliandra. She had her eyes closed and was breathing softly and evenly.

When Laurel got back, we decided to leave Eli asleep on the deck, covered in two sleeping bags. Seeing Haltir stare at Laurel, ready to continue asking her about the healing potion, I moved to the cabin and began taking stock of the wood in it. I heard them have a heated but whispered conversation behind me. As long as they didn't wake up Eliandra, they could talk it out as much as they wanted for all I cared.

It took me some time to sort through the rubble, and I tossed all of the small and useless pieces and wood snippets into the sea. A question about whether the wood was safe got me a hissed 'Yes' from Laurel, and eventually, I stared at what was left, a trunk four meters long bent like a horseshoe, and a dozen arm length branches. As I began pondering what to craft, I noted the roots that seemed to grow through the hull and remembered the yellow gas in the secret room below deck.

Lark, what is happening with the roots? I asked, realizing I hadn't heard the demon ship's voice yet. There wasn't any response, but then I heard Laurel yell from outside.

"Yes, Lark. You can bloody talk with Est now!"

"Stop taking it out on the boat, woman! I asked you before, and you said you had none!" Haltir roared, and I rushed to the door, glaring at them. They were standing with their noses almost touching, glaring at each other.

"Quiet! Let Eliandra rest,” I hissed. They didn't look at me but continued whispering with each other.

Masster? Lark asked, sounding demure.

I'm alright now, Lark. Sorry if I damaged you during my... episode.

You cut into me… four times! Lark said, sounding aggrieved.

I'm sorry, but I wasn't in control of myself, I said again. But tell me, how is the secret room doing? Is the gas still there?

Yes, it's still there, but it seems to be slowly dissipating. It was scorching my insides at first, but it seems to be calming down.

Thinking for a sec, I decided not to risk it and moved back outside. Laurel was staring at the water, her back to Haltir, who was sitting on the other side of the boat, muttering to himself.

"Laurel, there's yellow gas coming from those roots, and it's below in part of the ship," I said, guessing I needed to somehow get them to talk about this later if they couldn't work it out themselves. I hoped not. I hated mediating.

"As long as nobody breaths it, it's fine. Wait, you didn't breathe any, did you?" Laurel asked, suddenly turning to look at me with horror. Then she shook her head. "No, no. That's impossible. You'd be dead by now." She took a look at Haltir, grunted, and turned back to the sea, leaving me to stare at her with my mouth open.

Errr, why yes. I did breathe it… how nice of you to listen to me after asking a question, I thought, before turning around. It had to be because of my increased resistance. It was the only thing that made sense. I'd talk about it with her after she had calmed down a bit.

Keep an eye on the gas, just to be sure, I asked Lark.

Sssure.

I again noted the absence of Master and hoped Lark would get us safely to shore before turning into some rebellious teenager. Taking a look at Eliandra to make sure she was safe, I moved back to the trunk, my Corlon knife in hand.

Staring at the tree, I grinned. At least some good had come of it.

--

"Est…?"

My knife froze mid-cut at Eliandra's soft voice. I sat on my knees in a massive pile of woodchips, two hands holding down a long angular shape, curved slightly in the middle. Looking up, I saw Eliandra sitting against the wall of the cabin, wrapped in sleeping bags and staring at me.

"When did you get here!" I said, slowly pushing myself upright and feeling my muscles protest. How long had I been sitting here?

"You finally snapped out of it! I've been here the whole day… but you were completely zoned out."

She sniffed, looking pointedly at something beside me. Following her gaze, I found a stack of seven throwing axes and two daggers.

"I think you missed your calling. I've never seen anybody work this focused or fast before… definitely not you."

I grinned, recalling the moment after the first ax when my mind seemed to go blank, and my hands moved by themselves. I felt calm and peaceful.

"What do you mean, missed? I'm doing it right now, aren't I?" I said, inspecting the bow in my hands. It wasn't completely done yet. There was still some excess wood on the grip, and the ends needed to be rounded and split to allow for the bowstring.

"You should make two more if you can. Laurel said she learned to shoot in the academy, and she can teach us."

I nodded, taking stock of the wood I had left. There was plenty for another set of bows, although we would have to be careful with the arrows. Until we reached land, I wouldn't be able to make new ones if they broke. Not if I was going to finish my plan. Two one-meter-long chunks of wood lay beside me, smooth and without bark.

"I think you should sleep first," Eliandra whispered as I reached for the bow to finish it.

"How much time do we have?" I asked, not sure what time it was or how long I'd been working. It felt as if it had been a while.

"It's already getting dark again. You worked all through the final stretch of the night, the morning, and the whole day. Aren't you hungry?"

Getting up, I stretched and moved towards where she sat. "Not really," I said. I could eat, but I was mostly just thirsty. As soon as I thought of water, I felt my parched lips and tongue scream for some. Grabbing one of the water bags from the supplies, I drank deeply.

Eliandra took the bag from me when I was done, and after a few sips, put it beside her. She patted the bag, and I nodded. Wiping the heaviest of the wood chips from my arms and legs, I crawled inside a sleeping bag with her. She was warm and snuggled up to me while grinning. The trio of still healing wounds on her cheek pulled the flesh around it into slight creases.

"You stink, mister carpenter!"

I grinned, wrapping my arms around her and gently pulling her closer. I had planned to suggest something frisky when I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Warm and feeling safe, I barely managed a 'Goodnight' before falling asleep.