Safe harbour

[session 17, 21.05.2024]
 
Safe Harbour
 
Eventually, I make my way back to Miss Lalisa’s, where the others are still chatting over tea and biscuits. Miss Adei has given Luciano coin for his troubles, and being the kind man that he is, he shares with the rest of us. Rusalka silently hands me my share, and even if they don’t look at me when I arrive, it warms my heart to know that this is not the end of the world, not for us. There’s still a pang of annoyance and anger when I look at them, for breaching my privacy even though it’s not mine to keep, and I was the first one to break that trust.
 
Mainly the annoyance that still lingers is at myself, but my pride won’t let me admit that. Not quite yet.
 
The weather is starting to turn, but both me and Rusalka urge the rest to join us on our trip back to Kit’s Shoal. I don’t personally much enjoy the inns of Stone Harbour, they’re far overpriced for their worth, and sleeping outside in these woods shouldn’t be too much of trouble - never has been, anyway. Miss Lalisa agrees that we should go and check up on Aava, and is kind enough to lend us a cart with a horse - I believe it’s the same one we had last time, or at least one of them. It’s not like we’re making such headway that we need two carts, when most of us can walk alongside.
 
It starts to rain. I tell myself I’m happy, going back home. At least the rain is warm summer rain, but as the sun starts to set, it turns cold, our clothes sticking to our backs. I can tell we’re all wishing we were dry and warm. I don’t much enjoy the woods - not seeing the horizon makes me nervous. Especially when the woods get dark at night, and anything could be lurking in the shadows. I don’t know if I’ve ever told Rusalka this, how it makes me feel. They’d probably call me a coward. Which, to be fair, if they shared the same with me, that’s exactly what I would say. The whole … journal debacle is still weighing heavily on my mind and I don’t pay much attention to our surroundings - I know we’re on the right road south to home, even if this isn’t a path I’ve taken that many times. When we were younger we didn’t get to go to the city much, not without a reason.
 
I remember I was five when Ma first took me there, seeing the Big Ships. I was amazed, I didn’t even know there could be something so large and beautiful. And even when I already knew the sea, knew its beaches and how the waves crash against rocks and splinter into fins of foam, seeing the Harbour felt magical, like there was a whole another type of world. This wasn’t the sea I had come to know but a different beast altogether. I remember I was awestruck by everything - by the houses built on the hillside, by the treasure trove of colours that bloomed on people’s balconies, the thousands (or what felt like it) of different stores everywhere. And most of all, the tall ships. The sailors who worked the docks, navigating the space with ease and expertise I could only dream of. I told Ma I wanted to join a crew then, but she thankfully told me I was way too young. I was full of questions, and it was a time when I thought Ma knew everything - where every ship sailed to, how they operated. Who belonged to which ship, what about their captains and the heroic adventures they surely must have partaken in. And she told me those stories - now that I think of it, most of them likely falsehoods, but the little Tierna believed them all, and wanted to hear about them again and again and again.
 
The evening creeps on us with the shadow of the rain, the wind picking up. We agree we should have someone keep watch, and the lot falls to Eira, Luciano, and Kazys. It’s even colder now, and I’m thankful for the chance to not stay on watch. The thought of being the only one awake in the dark woods is… not particularly comforting.
 
Once more, we all thank Eira who, despite the rain, manages to get us a fire going. It’s not a big one, because the twigs and branches we gather are mostly wet, but a little spell here and there helps. Eventually the rain too, drizzles out, and we eat some late dinner (bread and beef jerky, nothing particularly fanciful) and get ready to sleep. I roll out my bedroll near the fire, wanting to stay as close to it as possible. Before we drift off to sleep, Eira and Rusalka spot three pairs of eyes gleaming in the dark. They’re either small creatures or very small folk - and lo and behold, from the bushes to the small awning walk three lizard-looking people. They’re not dragonborn, but something smaller, kobolds? They introduce themselves as Snack, Treat, and Bite, and their voices are quite fitting for something so small. Rusalka seems immediately entranced by them. They ask if they might stay with us for the night and we agree, although I for one keep my personal belongings close at hand. I’m clearly not the only one mistrusting these fellows, for Eira has casually summoned her weapon to … I suppose clean and oil it, for the time being. I should ask her sometime, how do non-physical weapons fare without any caretaking? Do they just remain sharp?
 
The kobolds share that they’re on a quest to locate a dragon, since no dragons have come to them yet. They seem to be under the impression that a dragon should (would?) use their magic to turn them larger, into winged dragons themselves. I kind of want to ask Rusalka what they think of that, but I’m… unsure how to talk to them. For now. First, I need to apologise, I’ve been behaving like an oaf.
I point to the kobolds that I’ve seen a dragon before, back before we started travelling together. The huge beast was swimming under our ship, but its speed was such that it soon surpassed us. All we could see were its silver scales glittering under the sunlit sea and the huge shape of its form. I point roughly around the sea route we took then, but I cannot be entirely sure where exactly the sighting was.
 
Apparently the kobolds hail from the Woods - to which Luciano asks whether they mean the ever-growing Witchwoods. They seem to agree it must indeed be the same area. I’ve never been that far inland, and frankly I’ve never found a desire to change that. The Witchwoods sound rather terrifying.

Eira keeps watch as we drift off to sleep.
 
Later I hear that Luciano had heard rather human footsteps close to the camp, but not close enough to step into the light. The thought makes me shiver, and belatedly I realise we’ve told the kobolds the exact location where we’re headed. If someone has been listening, they might have pushed forward to go before us, or - or it could be nothing. I don’t know why anyone would particularly care about us, or about Kit’s Shoal.
 
“Harry has been informed, but there is only so much a sending can tell. Once the tide recedes I will send him a letter to properly explain. He didn't sound as excited as I had hoped, but I suppose some caution is warranted, lest you be disappointed.”
 
The words echo in my mind. Harry has been informed. What does it mean? Does the priest Harold know about… me? About me and Valerian? About us, about Rusalka and the rest of our party? I picture Valerian’s perfect handwriting, the little curls and the careful dots, the dried ink on expensive paper. It had dried, pressed flowers in it. I shake the thought away, I do not have time to think about him right now. Instead, we all focus on the kobolds and their particularly curious morning routines. They seem to be boiling some sort of a concoction, and when asked, they mention they have been enjoying the recipe for at least eight years. I get the sense that that’s the highest these creatures can count, given the digits on their hands. They offer to share, and we all readily agree. The taste is perhaps not the most pleasant, but it does make me feel energized.
 
My mind wanders back to Valerian’s letters, and curiously, the dream I had last night. I don’t share it with the rest, not when it’s so personal in nature. It’s more of a memory, of the first summer I spent with Antoine as… something more than just friends, we were carefree and curious and. I chased him in the gardens, tackling him under the apple tree and rolling in the meadow grass until you couldn’t tell who was who. That was my first kiss, under that blossoming apple tree, and I still remember how our teeth knocked together, despite both of us trying to be so careful in the sudden moment of seriousness. A first kiss shared.
 
The thing that makes the dream so curious, however, is how instead of warm, fiery red, the colours of Antoine’s hair bled into wine. His eyes an icy blue, sharp and instantly recognisable. A paler pink complexion, still flushed and pretty. And a name on his lips that wasn’t mine. I woke up feeling guilty, above all else. Who am I to judge Valerian for having someone he cares about, even if - especially if- they’re already dead? I care about Antoine, and he’s still my friend.
 
We kind of chat a little after that, while packing up for the next leg of our journey. Kit’s Shoal shouldn’t be that far away, now. We bid the kobolds goodbye, and learn that Kazys is in fact from the Capital. Huh, I never knew. Neither did I know that he was from such a large family. It’s interesting to hear him talk about it, how he’s not so close with many of his siblings. It gives me a pang of anxiety - what if we drift apart, me and Rusalka? I cannot let that happen, but I don’t know what to tell them.
 
Eira also shares something - I’ve noticed that she’s rather quiet about her past unless asked directly, that she’s from up on the Mountains of Everfrost. That’s another place where I’ve never visited - I’ve seen the mountains from afar, small little specks in the horizon, but to even imagine that something so large exists is quite difficult.
 
The journey passes in comfortable silence, just us, the horse and the birds all around us. It’s still not a very good weather, but at least it’s not raining right now. I notice that both Rusalka and I perk up when we start seeing familiar countryside. There’s the big old Oak, and there’s Mrs Marlin’s homestead. We know the road, how it gently turns. The weeping willows that hang over the corner and Rusalka has to duck her head to avoid getting her spiraling horns stuck in the branches. (It’s always a little funny.)
 
We stop by the market and immediately a familiar-looking woman greets me, telling me how I’ve grown since she last saw me. It must have been a while ago then, for I don’t quite recall her name, I do know her face though, she’s always lived in the village. When she starts complaining about Miranda, the name comes to me - Margaret Gardner, her old husband’s a fisherman. One of the many who mostly fish by the pier in the mornings, and then sell the catch either that same day or the day after. Their neighbour Miranda has always been a little too nosy about it. I don’t much care for the town gossip, unless something new has happened. However, we do get some pike from her, their eyes still clear from the cloudy sheen they get when the catch has gone old. Rusalka picks some herbs and small, perfectly round little potatoes from the fresh harvest. It should be enough to feed us all - and Ma, of course. We pick up some greens on our way as well, and set off to the other side of the town.
 
Mr. Ahti’s house is always the first thing we see first after crossing the bridge, his farm is a lot larger than our humble abode. The clementine trees off in the distance also belong to him, the grove has always been one of our favourite places to play in. The field, still green and softly swaying in the wind, is also his - come autumn or spring and he hires folk to help him with the harvest and sowing. It was also my first real job, one that earned me some coin, anyway.
 
Soon we see it - home. The seashell roof, the little curl of white smoke telling us Ma is home and has the hearth going. The lush garden around it, the. Everything. After Spindrift Castle’s grandeur and the horrors we’ve witnessed, this is more beautiful than what I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Both Rusalka and I kind of want to just rush to the door, but we first get the horse into the stables - a delighted donkey yell greets us, and oh, we greet precious Fluffear back. After the horse has gotten all settled, we drop all pretence and run to the door. It’s a game of “who’s first”, despite never having been said out loud. Rusalka beats me to it, and to be fair, they’ve already got their home key out and rattling into the lock.
 
We both yell a loud “We’re hoooome!” in unison, and somewhere in the kitchen, we hear Ma’s joyful answer.
 
It takes a little while for everyone to get introduced - I don’t think I really need to introduce Ma but we still do, using her real actual name Aava. She engulfs us both into a big, tight bear hug and we hug her right back. She’s almost as tall as I am, our complexions strikingly matching. The door frames are all scuffed by marks from both my and Rusalka’s horns, and there’s still notches on the wall from when we were growing up. They’re details I haven’t paid much attention to in years, but now, having our new friends over for the first time, I’m looking at the house from their perspective. Do they see what we see, the lacy curtains by the kitchen window framing a perfect view to the glittering ocean? The warm hearth, the cozy reading nook with several old books neatly gathered into a small cabinet for them. I’m sure Rusalka has read them all, I don’t think I’ve ever bothered with a single one. The wooden, painted door to Ma’s room that’s neatly kept closed, for she appreciates her own space? There are freshly picked meadow flowers in a bottle on the table. They make me smile, it seems mr Ahti still brings Ma flowers.
 
After a bit of back and forth, we start preparing dinner - I ask about Antoine, whether he’s home after his last run with me, and Ma shares that he did visit with a new… friend? Apparently they fixed Nettie’s roof, the one we were supposed to the last time we both had free time. My heart does a little somersault, and I tell it it’s not jealousy - more than anything, I’m glad for Antoine, if he’s found someone who sticks around.
 
Ma tells us that we ought to make enough food for two more folks, for Vuoksi and their new spouse shall be joining us later. I can’t quite control my face, and Ma laughs because she seems to feel the same - Vuoksi and their twin can be incredibly strenuous people at times, and me and them often do not see eye to eye on.. Most things, really. I’d rather not have a repeat of the one midwinter roast we had that ended up with me storming out of my own home. I just can not deal with them and the whole obsession with death and the dying. It’s frankly quite creepy, and insinuating that the gods are dead feels like a personal insult to my personal devotion. I’m not even that godly of a man, I just don’t think it’s right to say such things.
 
Before long, they arrive, and I grit my teeth for the long evening that’s going to await us. Vuoksi doesn’t bother really introducing themself, but neither does their new spouse - an elven man Eira seems to know, of all people. He’s quite tall and has a white streak in his hair, but the way he carries himself does not make me a fan. If Vuoksi sees something in this man, I do not understand what exactly. For Ma, I aim to be polite.
 
And for Eira, if this man is in fact, family to them. I notice he wears a necklace of teeth. (Later, Eira tells us it’s a tradition to honour the dead, by taking their teeth and preserving them with the living. I guess there’s a certain kind of warmth to that. It’s still creepy, though.)
 
The man introduces himself as Mistral - he and Vuoksi are both equally obsessed with the dead, so I guess that makes them perfect for each other. He’s a gravedigger - while we’re used to the idea of bodies being buried at sea, this man digs graves for a living. In fact, now they work together. Clearly they’ve talked about me, as he asks whether I’m the one worshipping the god of the sea. I do not think this is a conversation I wish to entertain at the present moment, not with how I know most of my conversations with Vuoksi end.
 
We chat, apparently there had been a fire in Kit’s Shoal that ended up with old man Oak losing his life, poor old fellow. He hadn’t woken up in time to flee from his burning house. Both Rusalka and I are somewhat suspicious of the origin of the fire, didn’t Ma mention priests who arrived and burned books? The priests also end up as a topic of conversation, and how they came with a large group and Vuoksi was ecstatic to spend time with them (I hardly believe they are capable of expressing such emotion, but sue me), and later on - and I quote - Vuoksi ended up saving the life of one of the priests, who then gave them a rather familiar looking ring. Seeing the familiar crescent and wave brings dread to the pit of my stomach.
 
So, the dinner may not have gone as well as I hoped, but eventually we manage to shoo them out. Alas, I also ended up promising going with Vuoksi to see this mysterious priest on his little island just off the coast, and of course I’m the one who has to row. We almost ended up going immediately, but even I know heading out to the sea while it’s getting dark is never a good idea. So morning it is.
 
As everyone’s getting their stuff from the cart and figuring out how we’re doing the sleeping arrangements, me and Rusalka promise to handle the evening stable duty - after all, both of us are home to handle chores, and perhaps we ought to have a conversation without any more people present. I ought to apologise to her. And I do.
 

It's past dinnertime, the best part of the day when everyone is slowly starting to unwind and relax - there's just one more thing to be done before they settle down for the night - to take care of the animals. And that one is not voluntary, it's not like they can just skip it and be done with it. There's a sense of duty to it, but also pride - their friends are now their guests, and guests ought to enjoy themselves.
 
After washing the dishes, we both get up, exchanging an awkward look. We haven't really talked much today, aside from cordial interactions, and the air between us is getting awkward. But the sense of being good for Ma wins over, and together we fall into a familiar routine of fetching clean hay and cleaning the old away. I haul water by the bucket while Rusalka gets Fluffear and our borrowed horse - Dawn, as I finally learn. They seem to be fast friends, and I chuckle at the mare trying to steal a snack from Rusalka’s pocket.
 
When we’re done, we both kind of… hover. I sit down on a hay bale, just to do something with myself.
 
“Hey,” I start, awkward. Great, you're a natural. “I'm sorry for how I behaved, earlier. I'm sorry I snapped at you.”
 
Before Rusalka gets a chance to talk, I keep going. I’m not sure if it's for whose benefit. “I know I was being -” I pause, think for a word but nothing quite fits my mouth right, so I just wince instead. “- kind of a major asshole there, on the island. And after, when we returned. You just hit me in a sore spot there, and I lashed out, and hurt you.”
 
“It's something I've been struggling with, you know? I don't know why I took the journal, it felt important in the moment. I didn't even know if he was going to return there. I guess I thought I could…” it sounds absolutely unhinged when I think about saying it out loud. “I guess I could like, return it to him and he'd be happy to see me or something. Don't look at me like that.”
 
“I've felt so guilty about stealing the journal you know, so I tried to at least to do the right thing and not read it, so I wouldn't make it even worse. Respecting boundaries and all that. And I failed at even such a simple task, I couldn't even not do that. Fair, I only read the first entry at first which you probably guessed as much, but you have to understand I really tried not to.”
 
I look somewhere past Rusalka, not quite meeting their eyes. Fluff wants their attention, and so I watch them scratch the beloved family donkey behind her ears. When did Rusalka's hair get so long?
 
“And then you told me you had read the journal, and it was yet another crossing of that border, and I just. I don't know, I feel like I keep messing up no matter what I do. But I've read the journal now, and you know what? I'm glad I did. And I'm sorry I treated you badly, that was in no way very honourable of me. I ought to treat you better, you're family. “
 
-
 
The dinner has been better than expected, but that is not much given the fact that with Vuoksi attending one can not really expect much. But things have been cordial between everyone, though Tierna has made sure to get everyone to know how much he does not like Vuoksi. Rusalka has not spoken to him and does not start now, when they leave the house to take care of the animals. It is silent, calming work, the one they have known all their life. They can sense Tierna wanting to say something, but they do not help him.
 
They fetch Fluffear and Miss Lalisa’s horse. It is a gorgeous, huge beast with kind eyes and calm demeanour and it does not try to tease our donkey. They like it quite a lot.
 
Finally Tierna seems to open the knot on his tongue, he hops onto a hay bale and his talking is awkward. He apologises. Rusalka does not interrupt him. The sizzling feeling that has hovered behind my teeth since we left Miss Lalisa’s creeps closer, and the memory of my breath turning acid echoes.
 
Rusalka looks at him and there are spikes through their heart. They love him so much but at the same time, they do not want to hear any of this. It is clear to them he does not understand, and Rusalka does not blame him for that, for they have not explained anything. Still, it hurts to hear him talk about Valerian like that. It hurts them that all he has been thinking is how he could do right by Valerian.
 
Were we still in Spindrift Castle they would probably just forgive him. Hide everything inside them, bury it deep, and lock it away. But they are not in the castle where one mistake could mean that all of us would be found out, and Rusalka does not need to dance around the edges anymore. They are at home, a place where they have always been safe.
They might not be a dragon, but in that moment they let loose the one that has my life, that lives in me, the one holding my dreams and fears in its hands.
 
“It must be nice to be the blessed one here, to know you have nothing more to fear from him than the fact it was you who stole the journal. I was trying to help you, all this while knowing that Valerian belongs to the same damn order that would kill me without hesitation!”
 
There. It. Is. They feel tears burning behind their eyes, the fear they feel is a deep and dark tidal wave that swallows them under it. They want Tierna to be happy, they truly do. But of all people he seems to have chosen a priest, a priest from an order that the Grimoire has warned them about. And Tierna knows that.
 
“I am afraid, Tierna!” I don’t even realise I am shouting before I truly am. “And you throwing that back into my face does not help! Who am I to trust, if you decide, on a whim, that I am the one you may chew on whenever you feel bad for yourself?! Did you think, even once, how I felt while you were chasing around your fancy? ”
 
-
 
“It must be nice to be the blessed one here, to know you have nothing more to fear from him than the fact it was you who stole the journal. I was trying to help you, all this while knowing that Valerian belongs to the same damn order that would kill me without hesitation!”
 
Rusalka’s words hit me square in the chest, as if they had punched me. With the smell of acrid acid burning in the air, I guess I’m lucky they didn’t do more than that. I feel… absolutely gutted, to learn that Rusalka feels this way. That they’re afraid that I might not choose them, at the end of the day.
 
And I guess I haven't really made an effort to prove them wrong, either.
 
It must be nice to be the blessed one here.
 
I don't point out that all signs seem to point to the god I worship being dead, now is not the time for that.
 
“You know I’d never do that to you, right? If it ever came down to that, I will always choose you first. I’m choosing you now.”
 
I would never put you in harm's way, not intentionally. I don't say that part out loud.
 
I watch the animals for a second, but decide we should give them room. I’m not entirely sure if Rusalka is going to catch something on fire by accident, and if they are, I’d rather it be just me. And so I walk out, step outside to the old wooden swing that still hangs from one of the garden trees. It overlooks the sea, we can see the shoal from here, the foaming waves in the setting sun. I wait until I hear Rusalka’s footsteps behind me.
 
“I don’t think he’s evil, you know. I think he’s misguided, and I also think he knows it now. But if he ever - ever - tries to lay a hand on you, you know I would end him, right? I think he’s starting to see the error in his ways, the way the .. church… has been leading him astray from what truly matters.” I struggle to swallow around my words, but I need Rusalka to understand that I’m sincere.
 
“And besides. We’re gonna stop those bastards, are we not? The order of the priests and whoever they serve. And I hope you know that I will stand behind you in your decisions. Valerian or no. “
 
I want to tell them about how I gave Valerian the conch to hold, how it had hurt him, rendered him unable to speak. What it could mean, if anything. I suspect it gave Valerian some push to stray away from the order and see things more like me, but… perhaps I just might be an optimist. So I don't say anything, this is no longer about Valerian. This is about me putting Rusalka in danger without realising it myself, much like I’ve done before. I’m an idiot, who rarely thinks about what’s best for himself let alone to those closest to him, and I need to grow up.
 
“Hey. Are we good? You can punch me, if you want. I think I kind of deserve that.”
 
-
 
Rusalka does not know how Tierna’s words make them feel, how they should make them feel. Safe? Loved? Reassured? They feel nothing but fear, and as foolish as it is, they cling to it and look at Tierna with tears in their eyes. They have not realised how much they need him to say that. It is not like they wish for him to live his whole life in the same house with them and Ma. Things change. They always do, and there will come a day when they will both leave to live on their own. Rusalka is not ready for it to happen so fast and certainly not right now, not when the order of white priests hunt magick users.
 
“The thing is, Tierna, I don’t know. I couldn’t be sure. You didn’t do it at Stone Harbour.” Rusalka’s voice is small now, and they look at his back when he steps outside. They feel empty. Like all the feelings and fears have been squeezed out of them. If talking about their feelings will lead to this, they do not know how much they want to continue this.
 
It takes a while, but they follow Tierna. The sky is already dark, dotted with stars.
 
Rusalka does not wish to hear anything about Valerian, they feel like he is the third wheel in this, but then again, he is a part of all this. He is the wedge between them, the one that made Tierna push them off the edge. They might hate him, and be afraid of him and his order, but for Tierna, they’re ready to give him a chance. To make things better, to change his ways, but that does not mean they’re ready to accept any of this just as it is.
 
They should know how easy it is to lie. To make people believe just the things you want to show them, nothing else.
 
It is a trick of the light. Woven from starlight and false whispers.
 
The Grimoire has warned them that the goddess with many names is more powerful, more dangerous than anything they could imagine, and Rusalka believes them. But do they really have a choice to stay away from her? Maybe they can not stop them, maybe nothing can. But is it better to fight or live in fear of them? Just waiting to be found out?
 
But they believe Tierna, when he assures them that he will stand with them, Valerian or no. He does not lie, and it is all they need to hear. He is not like Rusalka, who holds all their cards up in their sleeve, afraid of other people finding out that they care. It's just... they let out a sigh and step closer trying to hold their tears that do not want to leave them. Still, Tierna’s words make them laugh a little bit.
“I don’t want to punch you. I want you to think before you act the next time. I know I’m not the only one who’s in danger, but it doesn’t help me to feel any safer thinking you might just walk out on me.”
 
Rusalka offers him a hug with their arms open. Or rather, they ask him. They need it.
“We’re good.”
 
-
 
 
“The thing is, Tierna, I don’t know. I couldn’t be sure. You didn’t do it at Stone Harbour.”
 
That feels... unfair. "I'm allowed to have feelings, too. You crossed a boundary, one that should be fairly clear to you. I do not read your grimoire, you do not read my stuff. But do not ever think that that would be enough for me to abandon you, that it would ever be a finality. We bicker, that's nothing new. Instead of tearing you a new one there in Lalisa's shoppe, I chose to step back. I'm sorry I hurt you."
 
It's a little ironic that I walk away to the garden, but still, it wouldn't be the first time Rusalka has accidentally set something on fire.
 
For a solid minute, we both just watch the ocean, its glittering bridge of light as the horizon paints itself purple and orange. I can see the first stars appear, blinking into existence as light disappears. There's seagulls resting on the rocks of the shoal, some of them only teenagers in their awkward brown coats. I think I recognize one with a lame leg from last summer, it has found a mate for itself. Gods, I’ve missed home. The calm of it, the quiet. Even when we're fighting, it feels better to do so at home.
 
 
When Rusalka hugs me, it feels warm. Safe, like home. Their horns are always a little in the way but I’ve done this before, I’m a professional at tucking my chin just so against the crown of their head that my cheeks get squashed by the curling horns only the slightest. Rusalka's breathing is shaky against my chest, but the way they're drawing breaths tells me that it is to calm down. If my shirt gets a little wet from their tears, I’m not about to tell anyone. I hug them back tight and do not let go. I watch as two seagulls screech at one another, but soon they too, seem to settle their differences.
 
"Yeah. We're good. Hey, Rus? What's with the book you keep writing in, anyway? Can I see it sometime? Doesn't have to be now, or if you're not ready. I just don't want you to get in over your head without me even knowing what's all that about."
 
-
 
 
“It was Luciano who read the journal.” Rusalka knows it might just be semantics, as they do know they still chose to listen for him to read it. Still, they’re not ready to take all the blame. Tierna might be right, they did cross some of his boundaries, but they still feel the need to make this clear.
 
“But I’m sorry. You’re allowed to have feelings, but I thought it would be better if you knew.“
They’ve all made mistakes, and they have made mistakes between them, Tierna and them. They have made mistakes. They will make more of them. Life is messy like that, but they just need to know that it will not break anything that can not be fixed.
 
 
Rusalka closes their eyes tight when Tierna hugs them, he is taller than they remember, but they feel safe. This is their home as much as the Shoal is, as Ma’s arms are, and they need to know they will not lose this just because there has been... they do not even wish to name this mess, and they only hope that it truly has untangled between them.
 
They admit that it has not been fully Tierna’s fault. While they still wish he would have thought things better in the castle, they do not blame him. They do not hold it over him. They’re content hearing him say we’re good.
 
“The Grimoire is magickal.” Rusalka’s voice is muffled against his shirt. They’re not ready to share the Grimoire with him, not yet. The time will come, and they guess it should come pretty soon - the Grimoire told them about the Spindrift Castle, they know about the goddess they will not name, and they’re starting to worry if they’re endangering them all by keeping it to themselves.
“They know things, I’ll... I’ll share with you soon.” They have trouble admitting it, but finally they continue: “I don’t want to. You know how I love my secrets, but I’m starting to think these are too important to keep as such. But... Let’s meet Vuoksi’s priest first, at least, okay?”
 

Later, when the sun has already gone down and the sea outside is getting ink-dark, I pen a letter to Antoine as we’re all winding down and washing up. Rusalka and Ma have gone to her room to talk about something, I suppose her godfather left her a letter again. I look at the crooked handwriting of my letter and flush when I compare it to Valerian’s beautiful cursive. Well. It is what it is, and Ant is just Ant. I don’t need to be fancy.
 
 
 
 
Hi Ant,
 
I think we missed each other once again, I’m in Kit’s Shoal visiting Ma. Heard you got a job on the Butterfly, shes a beauty!!! Mr Sunnyside (you remember the cook from The Vicar, right?) always talked about that ship like it was the best thing since they invented buttered toast. Congrats!!!! !!! Hey, do you remember the seashell we found, the one we went to dive after in the deep of the night? When we were both sailing the Shrike. The one that had a glow to it? Thank you for picking it up for me, I don’t think I never thanked you properly. I know you said you didnt do it, but it was kind, still. Oh and a little bird told me you came home with a friend. care to elaborate?????
Speaking of which, I think I need to uh, confess something. Listen[the word is scratched over]
I think I might have gotten myself involved with a priest, and uh. I know it’s one of those priests who have been coming to the town, and before you judge me ( I’ll let you, I’m judging myself too) you must know that he’s.. not really like the others. I don't want to say I trust him and he's different than the others, but I feel like he could be? I've been hearing some discone[this word is scratched over] disconserting things about these guys, you should stay back if you ever end up meeting them. They hunt magick users, if it's.. wrong. The magic, i mean. I dont quite understand how, but theyre daungerous. I stayed at Spindrift Isle for a week and they did something there. I saw people get killed. In ways i dont even dare to write down. But if noble folk offer to feed you seafood, especially roe, stay away from that. These people are.. they're playing a dangerous game, and I'm afraid I'm already more involved than I want to be.
 
Below is a drawing of one (??) Of the symbols they use, its for someone called Lady of the Tides but I think she might have other names, too. It's a wave and a crescent moon, if my artistic talent doesn't translate.
 
P.S remember that one summer, when we had both finished our first job on the Shrike? I think I had a dream about you, of that summer. You know the one. Miss you, stay safe.
 
Safe harbours, Ti
 
I fold the letter, thinking I’ll have time in the morning to stop by Nettie’s to leave it waiting for his next visit home, and head upstairs to where Luciano is already sleeping, probably. We don’t have much space in the house, and while Eira doesn’t necessarily need to sleep and she’s just taking a stroll by the gardens for now, the rest of us do. Kazys has kindly taken over a spot on the floor near the hearth where the floor is still warm, his bedroll rolled open and the man is already snoring. Rusalka has gone up to their room, but I have a feeling they’re not sleeping yet despite yawning madly. Theatrically even, one might say.
 
Me and Rusalka both took one look at Luciano and agreed it’s best to not make him sleep on the floor or gods forbid, the stables. But he refuses to make me sleep on the floor in my own home, so now we’ve come to the conclusion that we might as well share. My bed is big enough for the two of us.