The monster worshippers worshipped Ven’alti, the Queen of Monsters.

Freya was dreaming.

In that dream she stood atop a small mount with a sword in her grip. Like the dream before, everything there lacked details and fog seemed to obscure anything important from her. She knew that the sword she now held was not Celeste, and as she lifted the sword and inspected it... She knew it was a sword, but nothing about it gave any distinction. She couldn’t tell the material, the color, the type, or anything of the sword. In her eyes the sword was a cylindrical pole with fog surrounding it.

Still the same vague dream. At least this time no one begs me to kill her, Freya thought.

The ground beneath her feet moved. She looked down to see the mount she was standing on. Before, fog hid the details of the ground from her, but now it was clearing up. She stood on a hard ground covered with rocks. It didn’t shake left and right, but rather pulsed up and down slowly. The fog finally cleared away and Freya realized she wasn’t standing on rocks, but scales.

A thunderous roar ripped the air and it—whatever it was Freya was standing on—threw her away.

Freya fell. She… couldn’t tell how far she was falling and had fallen.

When she blinked, she no longer fell and was standing in a world of white, clouded with fog.

Though unseen, Freya could feel something lurking behind those fog. Circling her carefully, prowling. She could hear a growl and a loud huff. The wind she was feeling now was its breath. From the fog beside her, an eye which was as big as her stared at Freya. Its pupil was oval and the white of its eye was cracked with red.

It made another roar that ripped the air.

Followed by a death whine; its eyes then closed. It was dead.

‘I thought you killed it!’ said a voice coming from the fog. This voice did not have a tone of masculinity or femineity to it, but Freya was sure it belonged to a female. She felt it. ‘Really, [ ],’ she called her name, but Freya heard nothing, ‘why didn’t you kill it?’

A woman appeared from the fog. She carried a weapon, but Freya couldn’t tell what the weapon was because it appeared similar like the sword Freya was holding. Her face was blurred by the fog and her clothing was a vague dress.

‘[ ], why didn’t you kill it?’ she asked.

Not sure how to answer, Freya said nothing. Maybe with the silence, she could gain a response from her, and only then answer her question.

Because of her silence, the woman was… irritated? Freya couldn’t tell.

She then turned away from her and walked into the fog. When Vague—she decided to name her that—walked toward the fog, it shied away and Freya could see more of her surroundings. This time, she was really standing on the ground. As real as her dream, it was.

The fog dissipated and Freya could see Vague walking toward the thing that had circled her. It was a monster with scales, now a still corpse. The monster had a long neck and its head was in the fog. Freya was slightly curious on what that monster was, but Vague wasn’t walking toward the head. She was walking toward the body; and then climbed the scales.

‘Help me out,’ Vague said. She didn’t mean to help her climb, but something else. Freya didn’t know what, but she followed her and climbed along.

On top of the monster’s body, Vague wandered around with her hand in front of her, palm down, as if sensing and searching for something. Perhaps she was looting the monster for material? Like she had done with the horns of the three eyed wolves?

Vague stopped at a certain spot.

‘Can you cut around here?’ Vague pointed. ‘Be careful, [ ], since she might be alive.’

Freya looked at the sword she held, which was a foggy pole. She had her doubt, but when she stabbed it into the monster’s body, it didn’t act like a pole and sunk in like a blade. A sharp; fine blade. When she dragged the sword, she expected resistance, but the sword went through as if it was slicing air. Just like that, she made a large cut on the monster’s body and black blood gushed out.

‘… I should have expected that,’ Vague said as she was spilled with blood. She said something more, but Freya couldn’t catch the words.

When the blood had calmed down, Freya and Vague both looked at the monster’s inside. Though obscured by the fog, Freya saw a hand. I had cut the monster’s stomach, Freya thought. She could tell it was its stomach when she saw all the humans the monster had eaten.

Freya remembered what Vague had said, she might be alive. ‘Someone is alive here?’ Freya asked.

‘Yes,’ Vague answered. ‘I think. Hopefully. Can you pull that hand out?’ she pointed at a hand beneath where Freya was standing.

Freya crouched down and reached for the hand with hers. When she got a good grip on the hand, she pulled it out. Not feeling any resistance, Freya thought that she had pulled out just a hand, but it turned out that she managed to pull out a woman, fully intact.

Freya rested the woman on the monster’s scales.

Though her face was blurred by the fog, Freya knew who she was. The same woman who had begged Freya to kill her in the previous dream.

***

Freya woke up.

As she opened her eyes, she was greeted by a sight of a wooden ceiling—clear and vivid without fog. Freya toppled her head to the side, toward the curtained window, and saw morning light streaming from the gap. Usually, she would wake up before morning light arrived and do some morning training with Ray, but the dream had delayed her waking.

Freya rose up and pushed the blanket away. She felt her head with her hand; it felt heavy. The woman… died? Freya tried to remember her dream. No, not a dream. Memories…

Memories before she became Freya.

Still on her bed, she tried to piece the dream together. The woman had previously begged Freya to kill her; and in the newest dream, she was dead, eaten by a monster. Was it… correct to draw a conclusion, that the woman had lost her people because of the monster and wished for death because of her loneliness? Then she confronted the monster but was eaten and suffered the same fate as her people?

Freya tilted her head up in resignation and her hand touched her shoulder. It was too unclear.

It was great that her memories were coming to her, but it was too vague to be of use. Rather than dealing with that dream, she should just focus on her present problem: conquering the skystorm.

She went through her plan for today, but was distracted by the sight of Elaine in the corner of her eye. She was sitting on the floor, writing Formulae Magic on a glove, in her own bubble of light made by a lantern.

‘Elaine, have you been awake since last night?’ Freya asked. She was in the same spot she had last seen her before going to sleep.

She kept on tinkering with her glove.

‘Elaine.’ Her voice was firm this time.

Disturbed by the sound, Elaine’s hand slipped. Her glove fell, but instead of concerning over it, she looked at Freya with her eyes wide. Dark circles took the space under her eyes. She then looked at the door of the room. ‘Since when have you been here?’ she asked.

Freya found Elaine’s focus worrying. Freya had attempted a conversation with Elaine last night, but she was too focused to hear her. She had left her alone since she thought that what she was doing was important to her, but to think that Elaine didn’t even realize that Freya had entered? A thief could come inside and Freya doubt Elaine would ever notice. ‘Since last night.’

‘Last night?’ Elaine asked. ‘We just arrived here today, remember?’

‘It’s already morning, Elaine.’

Elaine let out a chuckle, as if laughing at a joke.

Freya got up from her bed and walked toward the window. She then slid the curtain open and let the morning light crash in. Elaine immediately covered her eyes with her arm.

‘… I may have lost track of time.’

***

‘Had I been late to arrive, the hawk squad would have suffered a loss.’ Dunnford was at a table with Ray on the lower floor of the inn, chatting over breakfast. He wanted to hear how he did with the Hawk squad, so Dunnford obliged. ‘The woman in kimono, Kokuri, is dangerous. My experience as a knight tells me that she’s incomparable to anyone I’ve fought before. Yet, I doubt she’s the one from the chronicles. Yes, she’s dangerous, but not on a divine level to go against Zenn. If she was from the chronicles, then she wouldn’t have run away after being outnumbered.’ Dunnford then took a sip of his cup of tea. They didn’t have coffee in Lune; Ray knew that if they did, Dunnford would have that instead. So would Ray.

‘That’s it?’ Ray asked before taking in a spoonful of porridge.

‘I searched and scolded the men who had taken action on their own. It was received poorly and I seemed to make them hostile at me.’

‘You didn’t fight Kokuri?’

‘I didn’t. She left after the leader had made a blood inscription on the ground and retreated.’

‘Huh…’ Ray took another spoonful of porridge. He was curious. What would happen if his invulnerability was faced against her immortality? Seemed like he had to wait for that answer.

Someone pulled a chair and joined their table. Ray looked up to see a violet haired woman with amethyst eyes. She placed down a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea on the table. The swordswoman sat down and greeted them both, ‘Morning.’

‘Morning,’ Ray greeted back.

‘Good morning,’ Dunnford too.

Seeing that Freya was there, Ray looked around, in search for someone. Thankfully, Dunnford was the one who asked Freya about that.

‘Where’s Miss Elaine?’

Freya mixed spice into her porridge with her spoon. ‘Still above, tinkering a glove with Formulae Magic. She’s been up all night doing that apparently.’

‘That’s… concerning,’ Dunnford said.

Freya nodded.

Just Elaine being Elaine, Ray thought. She always turned deaf whenever she was absorbed in her magic research. He wouldn’t find it odd if one day Elaine died of starvation because she was immersed in her work and forgot food. Elaine often talked about responsibility, only because she herself hardly remembered about it when she was focu—Enough about her, Ray forcefully stopped his train of thought. He felt that he would argue with an imaginary Elaine if he continued.

Instead, he recalled what Ignes had said and their plan to lure Freya to the sanctum. ‘Any luck in finding a ship?’ he asked Freya.

‘Kind of. I heard of a ship that could go through the storm, but I haven’t seen it yet. Stormpiercer.’

She already knows? ‘Where did you hear that?’ That was the name of a sanctum-owned ship, designed to conquer storms. The very same ship that he and Ignes had planned to use to lure Freya.

‘From someone called Drizzle.’

‘You met Drizzle?’ Dunnford asked, there was surprise in his tone.

Who?

‘He was helpful,’ Freya said. ‘I would have bought his fire wine out of gratitude, but I couldn’t drink it. So instead, I made him a promise.’

‘What kind of promise?’ Dunnford was engaged.

‘If I get us a ship, he’s going to steer it through the storm.’ He took a bite of her spoonful of porridge.

‘… Do you know that he’s—not sane?’

‘How so?’

‘He sets up his “tavern” so close to the skystorm.’

‘That doesn’t make him insane. If he’s insane for being close to the skystorm, then I, who met him at the pier closest to the skystorm, must also be insane.’

‘I did not mean it that way.’ Sometimes Dunnford did fail with his wording. Can’t blame him, he’s a knight. ‘Freya, he has himself a reputation of being a madman. He admires the skystorm for one.’

‘His admiration is that of a challenger,’ Freya refuted. ‘Dunnford, I do not see him as mad. If he is, I’ve made my promise. And against the skystorm, a madman who will brave through it is my choice compared to all the sailors and captains who fear the skystorm. Regardless, this is only something we should talk about once I get us a ship.’

Freya let the topic drop, but the atmosphere of the table was rather ruined. Dunnford, the knight, knew when to retreat when he had to. He stood up, excusing himself by saying that he would go get Elaine, and left the table.

He left Ray and Freya alone at the table.

***

Dunnford ascended the stairs and knocked thrice upon reaching the door of Elaine and Freya’s room.

No response.

‘Miss Elaine?’ Dunnford knocked thrice again as he called. He knew that Elaine was probably too focused to respond; but, remembering that Freya claimed she had stayed up all night, he was worried over her well-being. Perhaps she had collapsed? He might be wrong, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He used the key Freya had lent him and opened the door.

Elaine sat on the floor with her legs folded proper, her back stooped, eyes focused on the writing of Formulae Magic on her glove. Her focus which made her unaware of Dunnford entering the room was concerning, but he had to admit that her concentration was incredible. I can’t imagine myself attaining her level of focus.

Not in a hurry to go back, Dunnford figured that he could wait for Elaine to be done. Dunnford had his own knowledge about Formulae Magic, and unless Elaine did something that was beyond his understanding, then she should be done soon enough. Also, he felt that he should let Ray and Freya spend some time with each other beside training session.

Dunnford stood beside the door of the room, looking at the Formulae Magic that Elaine was writing on her glove. Part reason why he had gone up for Elaine was to retreat from the table whose atmosphere he had ruined with his poor wording. Another was because in the day before, the leader of the monster worshippers had written inscriptions on the ground with blood. A Formulae Magic which Dunnford could not read. He wanted to ask Elaine about the inscription; perhaps she could help him deal with it.

After a while, Elaine closed her eyes and put down the gloves and her writing tool, exhaling a breath. She leaned back, tired from stooping forward, and had a smile of excitement on her face. Noticing that she was done, Dunnford called her with a low voice, ‘Miss Elaine?’

Elaine looked toward the door and spotted Dunnford, standing beside it. ‘Since when have you been there?’ she asked.

‘A while.’ Dunnford smiled. ‘Good morning, Miss Elaine.’

‘Good…’ She looked toward the window and saw the light streaming inside, ‘morning, Dunnford.’ She smiled back tiredly at him.

Dunnford wanted to get directly to the point and ask her about the inscription he saw the previous day. However—remembering the Hawk squad he had led—he had promised himself to be more aware of people’s condition. Elaine had stayed up all night and seemed to have accumulated fatigue. Is now the right time to mention the inscription to her? Dunnford thought. Can it wait?

Elaine’s stomach let out a low growl. Embarrassed by it, her face turned red.

‘You should have breakfast,’ Dunnford said. It can wait.

***

Elaine covered her yawn with her hand as she went down the staircase. She made sure that her other hand held the railing, for she was feeling tired. Dunnford descended first, and was prepared to catch her if she fell. Goodness, do I look that bad? Elaine wondered.

‘Thank you, Dunnford. For your concern and for reminding me breakfast.’

‘You’re welcome, Miss Elaine.’ He could have been at the lower level already, but he was progressing the stairs slowly, waiting for Elaine.

Her head felt… bad…

When she was at the lower level, Dunnford led her to a table. Ray was at that table. Alone. Are there other tables? Elaine looked around. She did not want to be at a table with him.

Spotting her, Ray cleared his throat. ‘”Proper health is important,” you said.’

Elaine rolled her eyes. She did not want to deal with him. She looked around, searching. Not finding her, she asked Dunnford, ‘Where’s Freya?’

‘She was here,’ he answered. ‘Master Ray?’

‘She left.’

That girl always disappears…