Ehrir didn’t remember how he fell unconscious, but the moment of awakening remained bright and detailed in his mind. The night had miraculously shifted into day and the coldness of the night air had begun to slowly fade away. He was still standing on the exact same place on the galley’s deck with Nalia and Varhel beside him. Ehrir’s legs and back felt sore and his face was numb from the frigidness.

“What… What happened?” Nalia’s voice sounded next to him. Her question was followed by a fierce curse.

“I don’t know”, uttered Ehrir. Varhel remained silent, but was visibly confused and shrugged his shoulders. The disciples threw their glances towards the old man, but Sevrian just shook his head. He couldn’t help them out either.

Ehrir looked for Ostrias instinctively. And then he noticed the absence of the Ethereal. There wasn’t even a sign of the creature on the sea’s surface. But the Ashen Gaze was there, levitating above the open space where his battle with the strange being took place. He was looking at the ships with a serious, but relieved expression. The Undone One traced his gaze and quickly discovered that he and the other sorcerers on the galley weren’t the only one unconscious. Many more were just waking up and had confusion written all over their faces. Ostrias didn’t wait for them all to notice him and soon began speaking in a thunderous voice.

“Hear me, men.” He waited for a bit before everyone round was staring at him. “You’ve been attacked by the Ethereal… with magic. It managed to leave all of you unconscious. It even kept you from falling down with its powers. But that doesn’t matter now. I… I’ve managed to fend off the beast and grant us the chance to sail safely from now on. Go and make the seamen come out – they’ve been put to deep slumber just like you, no doubts about that. Let’s get to the southern shores as quickly as we can.”

His speech wasn’t met with triumphal roars like in the myths and legends that Ehrir was familiar with, but they still got the sorcerers excited. Many apprentices rushed off to the lower decks of their vessels and soon sailors started showing up. The galley wasn’t an exception and Varhel quickly brought at least several dozens of seafarers from the ship’s belly, led by the captain himself. Soon under his command the ship began moving forward yet again, along with the rest of the fleet. They had to compensate for the time lost in the Ethereal’s veil of mist.

The mood was still low – the crew had just lost a man and met with a being that they couldn’t fully understand. The sunshine and the feeling of lightheartedness that came with the sight of open seas couldn’t change their dark faces for the better.

“We won’t ever be able to give him a proper burial, ‘ya know… That just makes me feel bad, mate.” Those words belonged to one of the sailors and Ehrir just overheard them. It made a strange feeling grip him by the throat. Just a little while ago he hated the whole mankind. Now that intense emotion was erased almost completely from his mind, to the point where he felt… sadness for a dead seaman. That shocked him a little bit. He hadn't thought about it before.

The day went by rather quickly. He sat by and watched the fleet, tried to read some pages from the Sorcerer’s Book (but wasn't able to), ate with Nalia and her brother and tried to cheer them up. Both of the siblings weren’t happy with the fact that they gave in to the Ethereal’s magic so easily, but Ehrir’s soothing words helped them smile a bit. The idea that the unknown, ancient sea monster was able to use sorcery was quite disturbing to all three of Sevrian’s apprentices, but they weren’t more fearful of the creature for this. After all, the Ashen Gaze managed to make it run away, didn’t he?

Ostrias himself came to visit the galley at sunset, when the horizon turned into a whirl of bronze and bloody redness. His motives didn’t become clear at first, but he managed to make all of the crew sweat and bow down to him without even trying. He just stood around for half an hour, exchanging some meaningless chatter with Sevrian. He sounded… Not as confident and cheerful as usual. Ehrir thought that the Ashen Gaze wanted to talk about the Thirdborn when he declared that he wanted to speak with him privately.

The old man lent the two of them his room at the deckhouse for the occasion. Ostrias entered and looked around with a semi-relaxed expression before sinking into one of the chairs. The Undone One was familiar with his habits and sat down without asking for permission.

Ostrias was quiet for a while and Ehrir didn’t dare to speak up. In the end the ancient sorcerer began talking by himself.

“Have you ever… doomed someone’s life, Ehrir?”

“No, master. I don’t think so, at least. I’ve killed, but… only in self-defense.” The Undone One shook his head slowly. Painful memories surged up within him.

“I’m not talking about killing, but about making the decision to let someone die without even trying to save them… Have you done that?”

“No, master.”

“I have. I just wanted to say it to someone as it’s been on my mind... I feel like I should compensate the world for the death of a certain someone.”

“And how would you do that, master?”

Ostrias’ face went from calm to gravely serious and grim in the matter of seconds.

“Do you have a dream?”

Ehrir swallowed. Had he ever before voiced the idea that grew inside of him for some time now? He didn’t know, but the answer was probably ‘no’. It was absurd, of course… But he didn’t have any other dream as of now.

“I…” he began with an unconfident, quiet tone. “From the depths of my heart and soul… I want to kill Farnaraen the Thirdborn.”

A faint smile bloomed on the Ashen Gaze’s face, but the absence of his usual laughter could be almost physically felt.

“You know what?” he uttered after a moment of silence. “If you ever get even remotely close to being able to do it… I’ll help you with what I can. I hope we can become a good team, Ehrir… or should I say “Killer of Changelings”?”