Can it be? Have I actually... updated? Yes it is true folks, I have finally gotten off my arse and written a new chapter. To be fair, the past year (years?) have been really hectic for me and I'm starting to get back into the swing of things. I meant for this to be out about 2 months ago, but school and work go in the way so you are getting it now. It's a christmas miracle!

Thank you all so much for being so patient with me, I promise the next chapter won't take nearly as long to write. Also, I would like opinions on the final part... I felt it ran a little long but also might have been necessary. Not a hundred percent sure... I think you'll know when you read it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!


Dylan led the way as they left Ossa Trail, and all of its monsters, behind them. As annoying as all the fighting was, not to mention how time consuming it was as well, they managed to make a fair amount of gald.

A random family of travelers stood between the friends, having picked up the poor group half way through; which slowed them down even further. They had left Ossa Trail a day later than planned.

"Well at least we'll reach Izoold before dark," Raine called up to her friend, knowing the warrior was most likely in a slightly bitter mood due to the delays.

"We can't thank you enough for all of your help," the father of the family said gratefully, "if there is anything we can do to repay you-"

"It's fine," said Dylan, "we were heading to Izoold anyways." She was making a b-line for the coast; she didn't mind helping the family at first, but then they proved to be the most incompetent travelers she had ever met, which just resulted in her preventing them from talking as much as possible.

"Do you live in Izoold also? We've never seen you before," the mother asked, holding her young son's hand to prevent him from running off in a random direction. Something Dylan and Raine were both grateful for. Time consumer number… whatever: little boy running off like an idiot while cackling evilly, forcing the parents, Raine, and Dylan to have to chase him and stop monsters from devouring him.

"No, we're from Iselia; we're just exploring Sylvarant," explained Raine, sensing how irritable Dylan was at the moment –especially since the bratty daughter was constantly tugging at her arm and dress while asking questions.

"Oh, so you'll need a boat once you reach Izoold to get to Palmacosta." It wasn't a question, it was a simple statement –after all, the only way to get to Palmacosta was through Izoold.

"We were just planning on renting one."

"Well, you're in luck. My husband is a fisherman," the mother smiled.

Oh gods no, Dylan thought.

"Of course! I could take you across to Palmacosta, free of charge," agreed the father, "just let me know when you want to leave."

"One condition," said Dylan, pulling her arm out of the daughter's grasp and facing the family, a serious expression etched onto her features. She paused, leaving Raine to wonder if she was waiting for something or if she was honestly doing it just for dramatic effect.

"What is it?" both the mother and father asked.

An almost sadistic smile pulled at her lips, "I get to drive the boat."


Raine should have known better. She had grown up with Dylan, had gotten pulled into many misadventures by her. Surely she should have known better than to trust Dylan with the complex task of steering a boat across the ocean. But she gave her friend the benefit of the doubt, she didn't argue when her friend made her request; the family was more than happy to comply, but of course they didn't know Dylan. She did. And still she agreed.

So really, she had no one to blame but herself. That didn't stop her from sending death looks and glares to her companion as soon as they reached the docks of Palmacosta, two days after leaving Izoold.

Dylan was oblivious to Raine's looks however; her eyes were focused on the surrounding market. In fact, it wasn't until she felt the familiar thwack against the back of her skull that she became aware of how angered her elven friend was. "Owwww, what was that for!" demanded she, rubbing the back of her head.

"You purposely sailed into that storm!" screeched Raine.

"Did not!"

"You did so! I heard the captain pointing out the storm and telling you to avoid it, and what do you do? Steer straight towards it!"

"It was the wind, I had nothing to do with it," Dylan huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Besides, we're alright now, no harm, no foul."

"The boat almost capsized," Raine growled, "I don't think I'll ever be able to go into a boat again because of you."

"Told you, not my fault, completely the winds' fault. And isn't that a little overdramatic?"

Raine glared at her, causing the older Irving sibling to raise her hands up in mock defense. "Alright, alright… I might have steered slightly in the direction of the storm… but I swear the rest was the wind."

And what a storm it was. The swells that hit the boat were the size of tiny mountains, and held all the force of an avalanche. There were many moments when the boat would creak and wood would strain from the battering wind and water, threatening to spring leaks or break a part completely. The gale force winds almost blew half of the crew off the deck, the sails had to be taken down out a fear of them being torn or blown away. The rain was bitterly cold, and the wind was no warmer; skin stinging and turning red from contact.

Raine had every right to be angry, despite it partially being her fault.

"How about this, I promise to never drive a boat again," Dylan offered, hating it when her friend was mad at her.

"As glad as I am that you are taking into consideration the innocent lives of all the fishermen and other sailors out there, that's not going to convince me to get in a boat ever again."

"How are you going to get home then?"

Raine paused; she didn't have a response ready for that question. "I'll find a way."

"What? Are you going to just sprout wings and fly?" Dylan started laughing at the idea of Raine with wings flying across Sylvarant.

"I'll swim."

"From Palmacosta to Izoold? That's a long way to swim…"

The more Raine thought about it, the less of a good idea it seemed, not simply because of the distance, but because of how much more dangerous it would be. She'd be more likely to drown swimming than going back into a boat with Dylan, which was already a life-threatening feat.

"Anyways, while we're here we should restock… we lost most of our supplies in the storm." Dylan pulled out the pouch of gald Dirk had given her, which was stowed away safely in the cabin –along with her swords and flute- during the storm. Their supplies had been in a bag with Raine, who had forgotten to take it off when "all hands" were called on deck to help out during the storm.

And as they began looking at food, weapons, and gels, Raine's anger had dissipated and she was once again laughing with her friend as they looked at the wares of Palmacosta.

"The fish here will be really fresh, we should pick some up," Raine suggested as Dylan paid for a few lemon and apple gels.

"You're not planning on making anymore fish omelets are you?" teased Dylan as they wandered over to the fish cart.

"I already promised I wouldn't cook anymore, so no. I just thought fish might be a nice change from bread and vegetables. And it might be a little cheaper than getting some further inland."

It was pretty sound logic, as long as they didn't buy too much fish. With the amount of traveling they were doing it would be hard to keep fresh so they merely bought enough meat and fish that would most likely last until the next town. The last thing they needed was the food to spoil and for them to get sick thus delaying their trip even further.

They spent the rest of the day in Palmacosta, splitting up at the inn to explore the town separately and agreeing to meet back at their rooms either at sundown or whenever they got tired. Dylan stuck to her usual regime, asking people on the street about an auburn haired mercenary. With Raine off doing whatever, she was free to not worry about her friend overhearing and begin questioning her about said mercenary. When none of the townspeople could answer her request, she made her way back to the docks, intending to speak with the weapons dealer.

He was an older man, older than the weapons dealer of the Oasis. He looked on her with kind eyes that told her he was already aware that she wasn't there to purchase a new weapon. She smiled at him and he returned the smile quite cheerfully, in a manner similar to that of an old man smiling in response to his granddaughter.

"You are looking for someone?" he stated, though with a questioning air, leaving open the option that she may, in fact, be looking for something else entirely.

Dylan nodded, hoping that this man might actually be able to tell her something about her father. "I'm looking for a mercenary. A man with auburn hair and eyes, has he ever passed through here?"

"Your father," he guessed, noting that her appearance was identical to her description.

"Yes," she half whispered, realizing that by now he father's hair might not be auburn anymore, or if it was, it probably was sporting many streaks of grey.

"I used to see a man of that description many times a long time ago, at one point he even had a family with him- I'm guessing you were the little girl who kept trying to run out to where the boats were," chuckled the man with a knowing look.

Dylan couldn't help but smile; that certainly sounded like her. She could almost picture her mother chasing her down the docks trying to catch her before she fell into the rocking ocean below.

"I saw him a couple of years ago as well… he was just passing through and didn't stop to buy or browse my wares as he usually did. I'm guessing something happened between him and the misses then?" The old vendor was hopeful in his question, hoping it was a dispute over death, though judging from how they seemed when he had seen the family part of him did doubt that he had left his wife.

Dylan shook her head, "My mom died when I was still little, and my dad disappeared. I just want to know if he's still alive and why he left, that's all."

Her words puzzled the man, for in all the years he had received patronage from the mercenary, he didn't seem like the type to duck out on people he obviously cared about. And, truthfully, the vendor had known him for many, many years. So many that it still baffled him how the man never seemed to age, though he did not bring up this face with the young woman before him.

"Well, it's been about four years since I last saw him, chances are he's probably still out there," said the man, "I'm sure if you keep searching you'll find him." His words were kind, giving her the hope she still craved.

She uttered her thanks and offered him a few gald for his information, which he refused saying that her father had given him enough business to pay for any information she required on her journey. She left the docks, content in knowing that he had, at least, been spotted after her mothers' death. Of course he hadn't been spotted since, but that could just simply mean he hadn't needed to go back over to Iselia or Izoold. Which also meant that if she were to find him, it would most likely be on this continent.


Kratos was dreaming, he knew that much. It was the only way she could be here with him at this time. He wasn't asleep though, he had simply decided to take a break from his searching and relish one of the worlds he had left behind for once. And Anna was here with him. In his mind he was on Sylvarant, not Teth'alla, with her, somewhere between Asgard and Palmacosta; it seemed so long ago that he could no longer remember the exact location. How many years had it been? He lost count –he often determined the passing of time by how many of the Chosens have died. He briefly wondered if they were still alive, or had too much time passed and were now sharing the same fate as their mother. He let the thought fade, allowing himself to remember. Remember what had happened that day, to remember her.

"Well you need to eat something," she scolded him, forcing a sandwich she had just finished making into his hand.

"Anna you know I don't-"

"You're setting a poor example," she spoke through clenched teeth, her eyes briefly darting to their six year old, who was beginning to pick at her food rather than eat it –much like she often saw her father do.

He sighed, "Just tell her that you need it more than I do or that I will be eating later." It wasn't completely false, with her expecting their next child she really would need to keep her strength up more than he did.

His wife wasn't buying it though, her expression made that perfectly clear. "Eat it."

He was about to argue again, but knowing what he was about to say, Anna had a response ready.

"Either you eat it, or you have to explain why she has to eat and you don't. And you're not using me, or the baby, as a scapegoat."

He sighed once more, a sigh that his wife recognized to be his 'I give up' sigh. Waiting until their daughter was watching, he took a tentative bite and forced himself to swallow it. It had nothing to do with his wife's cooking, rather after becoming an angel food had lost all flavour to him. In fact, the taste of food almost revolted him now, leaving a taste similar to ash in his mouth. But he swallowed and took another bite, all in an effort to encourage a young girl, with a stubbornness to rival her mother, to eat.

Almost instantly, the child began to wolf down her sandwich and he became more aware of why his wife was so demanding of him eating all of a sudden. He would often slip away during the meals, so that there would be no question as to why he wasn't eating –but he couldn't escape all the time. Somehow, even with his "warrior senses" as Anna called it, he had missed that his daughter was, unknowingly starving herself; most likely doing so in attempt to be more like her father. She probably didn't understand the purpose of it, even when she'd begin to feel the affects of malnourishment upon her; telling herself that if her father did then she must also.

Clearly happy to see her eating, Anna cheerfully began to nibble away at her sandwich for a bit before whispering to Kratos, "You can slip off if you want and give the rest to Noishe, I think she'll be fine now."

He smiled lightly at her, but kept eating, if he focused hard enough on what he remembered the ingredients tasted like he could distract himself from the unpleasant ash taste. "Naz," he beckoned, his daughter immediately lifting her head up at her father's voice, "once your finished you can go play with Noishe a bit, just don't wander alright."

His daughter smiled vehemently, and stuffed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth. "'Kay," she forced out, running off to where Noishe was dozing while still chewing the remnants of her sandwich. She vaguely heard her mother beckoning her about not talking, or maybe running, with her mouth full but it didn't stop her.

Kratos chuckled lightly at her exuberance before noticing the disapproving look Anna was giving him. "What?" he asked innocently.

"You knew she was going to do that," accused she, "and there are still monsters about."

"Noishe will look after her." He placed the remnants his sandwich on the ground beside him and shuffled closer to her. He knew it wasn't actually the monsters that was worrying her, but a greater threat that they had been running from for many years. "They won't find us here," he assured her, placing a hand over hers.

"That's what you said about Luin."

"I made a mistake thinking that just because a year had passed we could hide in your home village, even if we got six years out of it."

"You also said the same thing about Hima and Asgard. I suppose when they chase us from here, you'll say 'they won't find us here' in Palmacosta too." Her voice was panicked and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. The constant fear of being found, let alone captured, was taking its toll on her.

"I promise you Anna, we will find somewhere where they can't reach us. Where you, Naz, our son and I can live without having to constantly look over our shoulders. I promise you." He gently caressed her stomach as he spoke.

Anna sniffed, wiping the un-fallen tears from her eyes. "What makes you so sure it's a boy?"

"Well, I guessed Naz right didn't I?" he responded smugly, earning a gentle punch on his shoulder from his beloved.

"It would be nice, to have a boy and a girl wouldn't it," she said absentmindedly.

"What are you really thinking about?" he knowingly asked.

Anna hesitated; in his mind Kratos could count to ten before she inhaled, signaling that she was about to respond.

"I don't want to go back there," her voice was shaking, "but no matter the horrors I faced in there, I would revisit them in a heartbeat if it meant they would never know them."

"Anna?" His tone was questioning, the meaning behind her words lost to him.

She looked him dead in the eye, her fear filled –yet still defiant and hopeful- brown eyes boring into his steady auburn ones. "If they catch us-"

"I already told you-"

"If they catch us… I want to always think of them first. Naz and our son. Even if they have me captive, if they aren't safe I don't want you to come for me."

"Anna-"

"I could never live with myself if they ended up in a ranch. So you have to promise me."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can, it's not that hard."

"Yes it is…" the same words left his mouth as they had so many years ago. Kratos ran a gloved hand through his hair, her presence leaving him in an instant. He rose up from the grass, and a with a few flaps of his wings he continued on his intended route to the Teth'alla capital.


Yes... you finally heard her nickname from her parents. Naz is her nickname... but can you guess what her real name is just from those three letters. A hint: her name is only six letters long and "Naz" is the first three. In the next chapter, our dynamic duo shall be leaving Palmacosta with high hopes, but what awaits them a new town? or is it just time for some traveling fun between the two. Personally, I think we are well overdue for the latter.

See you next time,

blackamber