NOVPUBThe ship groaned as it sliced through the water, showing the world that it was in fact, a survivor.
It limped across the water like a wounded animal, looking cracked and battered.
The mast had been splintered in three places, the sails were patched with uneven canvas, and the hull bore burn marks where soul energy had licked across the wood.
Patches of dried blood still stained the railings, and in more than one place, jagged spears of broken timber jutted from the deck like bones sticking out from a wound.
The Tidecallers aboard worked silently, exhausted and grim, tending to the wounded and securing what was left of the rigging. Even their eyes had lost their usual gleam.
At this point, they were survivors now, not warriors.
The Deep had attacked them just the once, but unfortunately, it seemed as if it had put a mark on them.
On their way home, they'd been attacked by beasts of the sea on more than four occasions, having to fight their way back home.
It certainly wasn't normal. But they'd survived it.
Ren stood at the edge of the deck, wind brushing through his hair as he stared at the island they were currently approaching.
His knuckles were white where he gripped the railing, not from fear or effort, but anticipation. He'd spent so long thinking about reaching Patoni, about what it would take to convince a guide to return with them.
And now that he was here, he just didn't know what to do.
He chuckled to himself. "Too many options leading to decision paralysis. What a fucking paradox."
As they moved nearer, the island grew clearer. Its dense cluster of trees gave way to low built docks and shingled buildings carved into the cliffside of their small… mountains.
There were no high towers or statues, but everything about the place pointed to how old it was.
Unlike the cities they'd previously been in, everything looked grown more than built. Organic. Alive. Even the jungle was like a guardian beast that had always been there, and not something that had been cleared to build houses on.
Ren continued studying the view, aware as Captain Hook stepped beside him, her own gaze fixed on the coast.
"This one is Seta." She said aloud, not taking her gaze off what she was looking at. "One of Patoni's outer islands. Mostly shipwrights and tide-watchers. Not a place you'd normally land unless you're looking to fix something. Or hide."
Ren glanced at her. "And the rest of Patoni?"
"Patoni isn't a city." She said. "It's a… network."
"More than sixty inhabited islands, each with their own roles. Some are meant for living. Some for fighting. Others are sacred. All are connected by the Water Trees and the tides. And all report to the Council."
"I see. "Ren nodded slowly, watching the dockhands scramble as their crippled ship approached. He already knew a lot of what she was telling him, but as he'd come to learn, he didn't know everything.
Word had spread already, and a crowd was gathering. Some wore aprons and tool belts, others carried spears or buckets. Children clung to rope railings, their eyes wide with wonder.
As they docked, the ship listed slightly to one side, the damaged hull scraping against the edge of the pier.
People gasped. They hadn't just returned from battle. The ship looked like it was the battlefield.
Hook placed a hand on Ren's shoulder. "I'll make my report to the Council. Let them know the existence of the Deep."
"But I can't help you beyond that. My crew needs rest. And my ship needs a miracle."
Ren gave her a smile. "You've already done more than enough."
She nodded once, then turned to her crew, shouting orders. The dockworkers stepped in to secure the ship as ropes flew and planks lowered.
The gangway creaked as Ren and his group stepped onto the island.
The murmurs started immediately.
"What happened to that ship?"
"Did they fight a Leviathan?"
"Is that burn mark on the mast?"
"Did they face a sea dragon?"
The tide of whispers followed them down the dock, but no one dared to approach them. The scars on the ship said enough.
If they were strong enough to survive that, they were surely strong enough to survive punching one or two people with no sense of boundaries in the mouth.
Ren walked at the front, his coat flapping in the wind, eyes scanning the town. Lilith was close behind him, her eyes moving around in curiosity.
Ren knew that whether he liked it or not, it would happen again. Lilith would eventually use Soul Dominion, and it would eat at a vast majority of her emotions. But at this point, he trusted her.
Lilith would never become the Third Great Calamity. As long as they were together.
Behind them both, Elias kept a hand near his sword, while Thorn gawked at everything around them.
"This place smells like fish." Thorn muttered, wrinkling his nose. "And adventure. And that combination should not work."
"Welcome to Patoni." Ren said, his voice dry. "The only place where both are considered currency."
They walked through narrow stone paths lined with low buildings. Rope bridges crossed between cliff faces, and strange totems carved from driftwood stood at every corner.
Tidecallers nodded at them from doorways, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness.
"Most outer islands serve practical purposes." Ren explained as they walked.
"Seta focuses on repairs and shipcraft. Their Water Tree is small, but vital. Don't expect warm welcomes. Outsiders here are tolerated, not celebrated."
"And the Council?" Elias asked.
"They live deeper in the core islands. You'll never meet them unless they want to meet you. If they call, you go. If they don't, you stay forgotten."
"How reassuring." Thorn drawled.
They passed a row of tide blessed wooden statues, each one shaped like a different sea creature. Offerings sat in bowls beneath them. Dried fish, shells, even glass beads.
"Tradition runs deep here." Ren added. "And outsiders rarely understand it. The last guy who tried to force someone to take him to a Water Tree was dragged across the reef as a warning. He… didn't quite survive it."
Thorn paled. "Duly noted. No trying to fondle sacred plants."
They found a small inn near the docks, its sign weathered and swinging in the breeze. A painted squid wrapped around a jug of ale sat faded on the wood.
Inside, it was quiet, and built from sea-darkened stone. A few fishermen sat at the bar, and one old woman played a slow tune on a stringed instrument.
The owner barely glanced at them before tossing a ring of keys onto the counter.
"Two silver. You break anything, you replace it." He grunted.
Ren paid without a word and led the group upstairs.
The rooms were simple but clean. Two beds to a room, thick blankets, no windows. It smelled like salt and old wood.
Once the doors were closed and their boots were off, Ren gathered them around the small table in the corner of the shared room.
"Alright." He began. "Now that we're not on the verge of being drowned, eaten, or bombarded with questions, it's time we talk about next steps."
