Orenda had never ventured as close to the sea as the docks before, and her body rejected the action with every step. It was exactly like being in the bathhouse. Her vision swam, and her stomach clenched, but she kept her body upright, folded her arms over her torso to fight the urge to empty her stomach, and pressed on.

The little boardwalk overlooked the sea on one side, and she could see all sorts of ships lined up there. Some were presentable merchant vessels, she was sure, but she knew so little of nautical things that she couldn’t tell a passenger ship from a merchant ship from a pirate ship. Still, they were lovely to look at. They would probably be more lovely if she could focus her eyes well enough to make them out properly.

There were so many people out and milling about that it may as well have been midday instead of midnight, and most of them carried powerful odors that did nothing to ease Orenda’s stomach. Spices, tobacco, and the yeasty smell of alcohol mingled with the scent of unwashed bodies and hair grease- and she knew she was going to throw up.

A couple of men had just turned their attention to her, but she could not identify them in any meaningful way because she was running for the edge of the boardwalk. She had just doubled over the fence when she heard one of them ask:

“What is a lovely lady like you doing in a place like this this time of night?”

Orenda wretched and felt the food she didn’t remember eating force itself from her stomach, up her throat and out of her mouth over the side of the fence. Her eyes watered and her torso convulsed with the spasms as she rode out the illness. She could not pass out again. This would be a terrible place to pass out.

They had made their way toward her, but she did not have the attention to pay them. She was swooning, and as there was nothing left to throw up, she was dry heaving over the side of the boardwalk.

“Are you alright, miss?” One of them asked, and Orenda blinked the tears from her eyes to see a water elf. His kind were rare in her parts, and she thought he was beautiful with his blue skin and eyes, his long hair the color of seafoam pulled up into a bun on his head. She was going to tell him as much, but another wave of nausea forced her back over the banister.

“No,” She said eventually, “Water makes me ill and probably disagreeable. I may not be proper company for anyone. I’m known to set things ablaze when my patience runs thin.”

“I get that,” the other man said, and Orenda looked into his green eyes, “You look like you could use a drink.”

“I could,” Orenda agreed, “Very much.” Her eyes flew open as she realized something, “Wait, magic flows through the blood. Perhaps if I drink, it may ebb the flow of the magic a little. Perhaps I won’t be so ill.”

“Is that true?” The earth elven man asked the water elf.

“I mean, it is true that magic flows through the blood.” He shrugged, “And it is true that alcohol replaces the blood in your veins. So I suppose that could work. But I’ve never known anyone to turn to drink to settle their stomach.”

Orenda felt another rush of muscle spasms and clung to the side of the fence for dear life.

“Here, you know what? I’m gonna get your stuff, ok? Look. I’m not stealing it. We’re gonna take you into the bar, ok?” The water elf asked.

Orenda nodded and grabbed at his companion’s shoulder for comfort. She glanced up as they entered the bar to see a sign depicting a mermaid drinking from a tankard. The Sipping Siren! She had made it to the safehouse!

“It isn’t as bad in here,” Orenda said because it was true. Her vision was still blurry, but it no longer swam, and her stomach was upset, but it no longer shook her entire body. “Thank you, gentleman.”

“Let’s get you something to drink,” the water elf suggested, “What do you like?”

“I’ve never been much of a drinker,” Orenda stumbled toward one of the few unoccupied tables and threw herself into it, “I hate to impose upon your hospitality.”

“It’s fine,” the earth elf had followed her with her sheet and sat across from her, “We know who you are, Orenda.”

Orenda was not surprised to hear this at first, as she was the only fire elf that most people probably knew aside from Captain Nochdifache. But the longer she thought on it, the more strange she thought it was. The earth elven man had an accent almost exactly like the one Charles and Susan had had, which made Orenda think he was from the earth continent. The water elf had no business in such a dry place as the fire continent and probably hadn’t traveled very far inland. They should not know who she was.

“How do you know of me?” She asked.

“We walk the same path,” The water elf said as he came back carrying drinks for everyone, “The path of order. We follow the white rabbit.”

“And the captain speaks of you highly,” The earth elf explained.

“Who are you?” Orenda asked.

“We were just a crew for hire,” The earth elf winked at the water elf, “But we always supported the cause, Rendy, almost everyone does, off the record. But then we met ol captain moneybags and we could finally do something about it.”

“I meant your names,” Orenda said as she took a drink and felt the fire settle down her sore throat. It wasn’t delicious but it did wash away the taste of the bile, and for that she was grateful. It did also seem to work a little, as the magic pressing on her was far less intense.

“Oh,” he said, “I’m Stephandore, and this is Adamareyn.”

“You aren’t from around here,” Orenda surmised as her vision finally returned to normal and she was able to get a good look at them. They were obviously travelers, both dressed in traveling cloaks and seafaring clothing, but Stephandore was much older than she had assumed from his voice and the strength of his body when he carried her. His hair had gone completely white, and unlike Felaern he made no visible effort to conceal that fact, or the wrinkles that lined his face. He did not seem to have the vanity that Orenda had come to associate with the earth elves- he seemed content to simply grow old in peace. She thought that he must have seen centuries, but his green eyes were still bright and alert.

“I’m not from anywhere,” Stephandore explained and began to unpack a pouch onto the table. It contained a pipe, a matchbox, and a great deal of a plant that smelled like the hookas Orenda had seen so long ago when she first met Rochelle and Ali. He began to break the plant up as he spoke. “The place I am from no longer exists. When I was younger, I lived in the mountain province of Uril, back before it was an empire.”

“But that would make you more than three centuries old!” Orenda exclaimed.

“Old people exist,” he shrugged. “I know most of my kind try to hide that fact with paints, dyes and glamours, but I’m not among them. The natural ways are the best ways.”

“Did you ever come here?” Orenda asked, “Did you ever meet the fire elves?”

“Before the colonization?” Stephendore asked, “No. No I defected to the water continent after the Emerald Knight started his killing spree and the nobility got too strong back home. I saw it coming. I knew something awful was going to happen.”

“They came for us, too, Orenda,” Adamareyn explained, “The Emerald Knight came for our queen. She was a… there are so many words for it in common… a siren? Mermaid? Water Nymph? The Emerald Knight killed her and our god in the Sacred Ocean Temple. The entire continent is still underwater, except for the islands. It used to be a landmass that met the northern continent in the ice fields, but the sea rose and swallowed it in a single day and night.”

“My god,” Orenda said.

“Mine too,” Adamareyn agreed.

“And mine,” Stephendore added. He had packed the pipe and was rolling his pouch back up. “The Emerald Knight killed the god of the Sacred Woods.”

“Three gods?” Orenda asked skeptically, “...I don’t know, guys, that’s a lot of stories.”

“Would you mind, dear?” Stephandore asked, holding the pipe towards her.

The magic flowed through Orenda so sluggishly that even producing the small flame was difficult, but she did it, and he puffed contentedly away.

“Are you feeling better?” Adamareyn asked.

“I’m feeling differently,” Orenda answered, “I don’t know that it’s better.”

“We have to let the captain know who we’ve found,” He said happily, “If you’re feeling better, let’s head upstairs.”

“Do you work for Captain Nochdifache?” Orenda asked as she stood, and the men stared at her as if she had gone mad.

“Nochdifache?” Stephendore asked, “The madman who sails with werewolves and ghouls? No, of course not.”

Orenda clutched her half empty cup and thought that she had gotten too drunk. As she climbed the stairs in the back of the tavern to the inn above, she wondered what captain could possibly know her if not Nochdifache? He was the only link that she had to the sea, or to anything really. There was no one else she knew who would know her, who would speak of her.

The men opened the door to a room, and Orenda saw many things. First, she saw a chipper halfling woman, and the sight interested her greatly because she had only ever read of halflings, had never seen one in person. They only lived in the frozen north and would have no business here, but the Sipping Siren made its business on people with no business where they were, so she filed that away as interesting, but not her main priority.

Her first priority was the man sitting on the bed beside the halfling, half naked with his bare torso glistening in the moonlight with brand new scars, his long blond hair pulled up in a ponytail and covered by a bandana, new gold earrings set with earth crystals in his long ears, and his eyes wide with an emotion that she could not read.

Orenda heaved the tankard at him and it connected square between his eyes. It did not shatter with the force, she was never very athletic, but it did splash all over him and his lady friend, which did not give her the same satisfaction, because she had no reason to inconvenience the woman.

“You piece of shit!” Orenda screamed at him, “I summoned a demon! Your girlfriend lost her goddamn mind and had to drop out of school- after she almost stabbed me to death! You absolute fucking asshole! I’m going to kill you, Toli!”

The halfling woman stood and ran from the bed as Orenda leapt onto it and tackled him. Her hands were around his throat before she caught herself, and had she been in her right mind, she would have, perhaps, thought that she should, in the future, not drink as freely when she had abstained from most of her life.

“Rendy stop!” Tolith shrieked, and she knew that she was not mistaken.

“No!” She screamed back.

“I… can’t… breath…” he protested weakly.

“Because I’m choking you!” Orenda explained as if she felt it shouldn’t have to be explained.

“Alright,” Stephendore grabbed her around the waist and lifted her bodily off of him, “You are actually going to kill him if you keep going.”

“He said he was dead!” Orenda protested.

“I never said that!” Tolith argued through his raspy, crushed throat, and shoved himself upright with one hand over his heart and the other over his diaphragm, “Thesis’s glowing eyes, Rendy!”

“You’re Rendy?” The halfling woman asked, and Orenda thought she was unbearably cute, “I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Anilla.”

“I didn’t mean to get you wet,” Orenda said, “I do apologize. I had hoped it would shatter in his face and kill him.”

“No,” Adamareyn picked up the glass, “It’s fairly thick glass. Very well made. I hear they make glass well here in the land of fire.” He chuckled as he stood and added, “I will admit, given how the good captain speaks of you that this is not the welcome I was expecting.”

“Where the hell have you been, Toli!” Orenda raged.

“I can explain,” He said, coughed, and begged, “Adam, can you please get me some water? God damn, Rendy, when did you get strong?”

“I’m powered by rage!” Orenda snapped. “Whose corpse did you send to your mother?”

“I can explain,” he said again.

Orenda watched Adamareyn produce a wand from his belt, wave it at the tankard, and as the stones set into the wand began to glow blue, little droplets began to gather on the insides, like they do on a steamy window, trickling down toward the bottom. It happened faster than it takes to tell it, and the glass was full in no time. He handed it to Tolith, who drank it greedily.

“You better have a damn good explanation!” Orenda spat.