The assembled convicts saw three things path forth from the door when it opened. They saw a demon, an owl, and then a girl. And they did not like the last of those three.

“Casari!” called one, who was notable for his eyes, which looked as if they were formed of stone. “May we have her?”

The men, who, as the demon had said, lined the halls, stared upon her. Though fully clothed, Alsi felt naked. She wished she could hide behind her dark savior, but there were murderers all around them, entrapping them.

Alsi noted the oddity of seeking refuge from mortal villains, under the protection of a Terrasanu, but that was as life went.

Casari almost seemed to consider the proposition, formed so eloquently, in contrast to the pidgin speak of murder in the interrogation cell. As he did so, Alsi thought she nearly willed her heart to stop beating. But it did not.

And at last, the demon shook his head at the speaker, and, thus, at the assembled ranks. “No,” he said. “She is mine, and will be used for my purposes alone.”

And the crowd seemed to accept that.

“Now,” said Casari, in the center of the impromptu meeting in the hall, “do any of you have any idea how to sail this ship?”

The freed man, with the stone-cold eyes raised his hand, hesitantly. “My name is Uran Tedi,” he said. “Also known as Darksail.”

And at that, some of the other convicts made gasps, and Alsi was with them.

Five years ago, Darksail was the greatest pirate of the north seas, a man who had eluded the Makini navy for years on end. Oddly enough, he had been known for his honor.

Alsi knew that, five years ago, he had been caught, but she had had no idea he had been a prisoner onboard the Wretched. She even knew him, and had interrogated him many times, knowing him to be Uran Tedi, the pirate, but she had had no idea who he really had been. She had no idea he had been a legend.

And, his presence was accepted, just like that. If Casari is Koranor, Lord of the Fallen Host, could walk among them, then Darksail’s presence was barely even interesting, and quite certainly likely.

“I would assume that means you can run this ship,” said Casari. “I promote you to captain of the Wretched. You are second only to me. Now, get some men working, before we list in the storm!”

Darksail acknowledged Casari’s words with a crisp nod, and turned to the other freed prisoners. He began to set them tasks, and, with Casari’s words behind him, all the others did what Darksail instructed, most of them heading for the deck.

Before he did the same, Darksail asked Casari, “Where are we headed?”

“The mainland,” said the demon.

Accepting that cryptic answer, Darksail shrugged, and headed up the ship’s stairs, to the deck.

“Make sure they do what they must,” Casari told the owl on his shoulder, which hooted, stretched its massive wings, and flew off.

And then, in a now all but empty hall, Alsi was alone with the demon. She was terrified, terrified, but oddly staunch in the belief that when Casari had said he would spare her, he had meant those words.

“Now what?” she asked the demon, who, instead of looking at her, was staring at a blank spot on the wall.

The demon sighed. “There was an odd benefit to having had given up,” he said. “Then, I did not have to worry about succeeding.”

“And how would I be classified as a success?”

Finally, Casari turned.

He did not look like a demon to Alsi, despite it all. He looked like a man. A man with gray eyes, but gray eyes of sadness, not gray eyes of horror. When she looked at him, she saw something there. She saw something behind them.

But Alsi didn’t know what. She reflected, and decided what she saw was most certainly one of Casari’s ploys.

“When you can serve me without my needing to direct your actions,” he said. “When you can stand in your own right, and be able to tell your father that what he did to you was wrong.”

Alsi looked at him. “You knew I was telling you the truth of my history, in the interrogation room?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Alsi felt silly. Casari was a demon. He probably knew every last one of her secrets just by looking at her.

“Go back to your room, Alsi,” said Casari. “I can assure you, no harm will befall you while you sleep.”

Alsi turned, and left him. The demon did not pursue, instead walking down a corridor in the opposite direction.

Whether it was by fate, happenstance, or Casari’s intervention, no former prisoners bumped into Alsi, as she made the trek back to her small room.

Once inside, however, she found someone waiting for her. He was garbed in the robes of a priest.

“Who are you?” she asked him. There had never been a priest as part of the Wretched’s crew, and, in any case, Alsi had been sure all crew besides her were dead.

“I?” asked the man. “I am Priest Ralad. Once, Priest-Lord, but no longer.”

“How did you get onboard this ship?” she asked him, edging to find room in the cramped space, a space that was not meant for two.

“As your prisoner, my dear Makini,” said Ralad. His words sounded so peaceful, so comforting, that Alsi did not realize their true meaning until a moment after they had been spoken.

“A…a prisoner?” asked Alsi. “But, you’re a holy man.”

“I forfeited any privileges related therein, when I helped defend the Holy Citadel,” said Ralad. “And so I came here. You must not have read the prisoner manifest very carefully.”

In truth, Alsi had not even gazed upon the prisoner manifest. That had been for the captain, and a few select officers. It had been classified beyond her reach.

“But,” she asked. “What are you doing here here, in my room?”

“The demon who has brought madness down upon this ship sent me to speak to you,” said Ralad. “He found me robes in storage, so that I could shed the prison gown, and bade me talk to you. He wishes for you to know that you are the last of the crew still alive.”

“You make it sound as if you serve him, now,” said Alsi. “You, a holy man.”

“My faith is not shattered,” said Ralad. “I still believe in the one true God. However, while I am not an old man, I am not a young one, either, and I have learned that it is better to go along with events you dislike, when revolting against them will result in your death, and no other change.”

“You do what he asks because you think that otherwise, he’ll kill you,” Alsi simplified. “You’re a coward.”

“Sadly,” said Ralad, “you are no more than me.”

“I know I am a coward,” said Alsi. “But, you…”

Ralad sat on her bed. “I know what you are thinking. I know that my putting up with Casari is an abomination against the natural order of things. But there is nothing I can do to stop him, now.”

Ralad looked at her, as Alsi nervously fidgeted, looking down at the man, who sat comfortably in the uncomfortable chair that graced her room.

And a truth Ralad had spoken sunk in. All her fellow crew members were dead, now. Oddly, she felt not the slightest bit of remorse. She supposed that somehow, even now, Casari was beginning to turn her.

Ralad saw how confused and uncomfortable she looked, and got up, and offered her the seat.

Alsi gratefully took it.

Now, instead of him looking up at her, the situation was reversed.

“As many priests before me,” said Ralad, “I have come to realized that the world is not only black and white. Take this situation now, for example. You and I are speaking, as if we are on the same side, and yet, less than a day ago, you would have let me rot as a prisoner. Casari broke free from the ship, and yet, despite his ancient evil, he spared both of us.”

“What is your point?” asked Alsi.

“I know you are weary,” said Ralad, “and I know you wonder and fear what the next day brings. Indeed, I am with you, and--much pity the expression--on the same boat. But you must have faith, for without light, there could be no shadows. That is what I mean when I say the world is not simple. In my studies of texts, in my studies of lore, I have realized that while the world is a complicated place, things always even out. Just as a new emperor will rise from the ashes of the Arathou Dynasty, Casari will one day tremble before the victorious forces of good.”

He paused.

“Things always even out. Just have faith.”

Alsi got up, and lay back on her small bed. “But things feel so hopeless.”

“Let me tell you just one more thing,” said Ralad, “and then I will leave you. Demons, Terrasanu like Casari think they can get away with their evil plots because they do not believe in an afterlife. They do not believe, that when they die, they will be in God’s domain, and they will be judged for their sins. One who has faith has great power over heathen Terrasanu.”

“Why are you telling me this at all?” asked Alsi. “Why do you care about me, or how I feel? I was one of those who imprisoned you.”

“Because,” said Ralad, “while I cannot forgive harm done to another, I can forgive harm done to me.”

He turned, and he left, leaving Alsi alone to ponder his words. They were not reassuring in the slightest.

Why were they not reassuring?

Because Casari had told her almost the exact same thing. Shades of gray, indeed.

Alsi got to sleep.