Lost to the Sea
For once, when Roland decided to get up, Fluffy didn't complain, if only because this was one of the rare times the dreadwing had dozed off. Roland assumed it was to heal his injuries – those twisted, gory holes punched into his stomach were more harmful than Roland had originally suspected. At first, they'd only seemed like minor wounds, but by the time Tristana had calmed, Fluffy was swaying and about to pass out from a loss of blood, and had done so a few minutes later. Thankfully, they'd had bandages on board to fix him up and now he rested soundly.
Roland wasn't too concerned about him now. He had another problem. His eyelids were black and wrinkled with his exhaustion, but even into the early morning, they didn't allow him rest. No amount of tossing and turning blessed him with the sleep he desired. Even though his body and mind knew he needed it, sadistically, they kept him wide awake all night. He was on his own to listen to the sound of the prow slice through the waves, thoughts surging through his head like jolts of energy.
Roland looked behind him as he left the captain's quarters, where everybody had laid out their bedrolls. It was the only roofed part of the ship, other than below the deck, but nobody had wanted to sleep in that dark, musty space. He needed a breath of fresh air, a look upon the horizon now that the fog had cleared.
Roland glided across the deck to the prow of the ship, down the stairs and around the hastily patched-up crevices the earth missiles had created. He stopped before the railing at the front, ran a paw through the crimson frills atop his head, and then rested his forelegs upon the metal barrier.
He took a breath of the salty air, his nose tingling at the sensation, and relaxed to the gentle sway of the ship cutting through the waves. He pressed his jaw onto his paws and peered into the sunrise out to the east, to the radiant, wavering half-circle sitting just above the shimmering sea. The ocean was clear – not a speck of land in sight. Dante's Freezer was a ways off yet. He was at least glad to be on his way now.
He could've gotten there earlier, he knew. On day one of Shimmervale, maybe, if they'd just asked Alevor about it. Of course, that might've been a little too early for the atlawa, but the thought harassed him anyway.
This was the kind of thing keeping him up. Everything in Shimmervale had been for nought. Roland couldn't stop kicking himself over that. It was all his fault because, yet again, he'd blindly trusted someone, naïve to their true intentions. Wren had only ever wanted to teach him how to freeze Drevon away for good. Roland knew he should've suspected that from the beginning.
In fact, he had! He told himself over and over to be sceptical and he was, and yet he fell for all of that anyway.
He was a total pushover. He'd listen to anybody. He'd believe something that Brenton would've lied about.
Roland's paws tightened around the railing. He'd put all of his friends in danger for nothing. There was no gain to be had in Shimmervale. He didn't give a shit about his time magic anymore. If it wouldn't help him save Drevon, he didn't care about it.
His magic was an enemy to him. He wished he could just rip it out of himself, wished he could tear out his potenthalus and throw it overboard, lose it to the sea.
Maybe he should've just jumped overboard altogether. Drevon deserved a better friend than him. In all ways, Roland felt useless, even harmful, to the journey. He wasn't sure if it was worth caring if he got to Drevon or not. As soon as he found Drevon, Roland was sure he'd fuck something up like he always had.
He peered over the railing, into the dark, bubbling depths calling his name. He thought about it for a moment, didn't instantly shoot the idea down this time.
He knew it was a 'no' eventually. He didn't think he had the guts. If he did that, he'd also just make his friends upset...
What was even the point in caring about him in the first place?
Roland breathed a sharp breath through his nostrils, his chest tightening with anger, at himself and at his friends. Why did they even call him a fucking friend? He'd almost sent them unto death back in Shimmervale. They could've actually died because of him because he didn't take a moment to think. Because he didn't properly consider the consequences. Because he was too selfish.
Roland wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit this railing so hard he broke his leg again.
And so he did. He smacked it with as much force as he could, like he was trying to punch a hole through the steel. It clanged against his fist. A spike of agony rushed through the leg he'd just recently broken and he fell to his knees, growling, gritting his teeth.
Despite that, he wanted to do it more. Again and again. He wanted to smash his head against that railing and knock himself out. At least then he'd go to sleep.
Yet now, he didn't get up. He didn't feel like moving anymore. He just clutched his flaring leg to his breast, clenched his teeth together, and shut his eyes tight.
He just wanted to sleep!
Only when the pain lessened did Roland finally lift himself off the floor and prop himself up on the railing again, this time his eyes wet with tears, his muzzle quivering.
Roland stood there for a long time, snorting, the tears running down his face.
He... He needed to calm down and think properly. He shouldn't have been trying to hurt himself...
For a moment, that pain had felt pretty good. It'd felt worthwhile. He'd wanted it again.
What was he becoming?
"R-Roland?"
Roland felt forced to turn his gaze slightly to look at Ashlyn, who rubbed at an eye.
"What are you doing up? It's not even six o'clock..."
He sighed, turning away from her to mask the tears on his face. Smacking the metal must've woken her up. He didn't realise how shaky his breaths were. Hearing that seemed to wake Ashlyn up a little.
"A-are you okay?" she asked, rushing towards him, those tired eyes widening. "D-did something happen? Is–"
"I'm fine," he butted in. "I'm... I'm fine. Don't worry."
"R-Roland, please don't start this," she murmured. "You know how annoying it is. What's up?"
She wasn't going to leave him alone now. He didn't want to tell her. She already had enough on her plate to think about without him to worry over.
It was probably worse if he didn't say a thing, though. He knew just how much she hated being confused. He felt the same way about the same thing. He would be a hypocrite to keep things from her. She deserved to know...
He rested his chin upon his paws again and wandered the depths of his mind, searching for the words. "Ashlyn... Do you blame me?"
"Huh?" She cocked her head. "W-what do you mean? For what?"
No, then. Even if she should've. She put him on too high a pedestal.
"H-have you been crying, Roland?" she asked. He didn't care to answer that question. She could already tell.
He looked into the watery depths churning by the prow of the ship again. "I-I brought us all to Shimmervale for no reason... Look how it turned out. I almost killed you all because I trusted someone again."
"I-I mean... I thought it was a good idea to go to Shimmervale, too. If you can pin the blame on yourself, then you can pin it on me as well." Ashlyn shrugged. "I-it was everyone's fault, Roland. We all made a mistake."
"Th-the only reason we went was because I thought it would be a better idea," Roland said. Ashlyn opened her mouth to say something, but she realised he was right, that she had been there just to follow him. "If I'd said no, then we would've kept going, and you know that. I should've just ignored Wren and kept going to Warfang; w-we wouldn't be in this mess. You treat me like a leader, but I'm the shittiest one of those there's ever been."
"I-I don't care if you made a mistake or not. It happens. How were you supposed to know what to do?"
"I shouldn't have gone somewhere the fucking Guardians were going. I should've known." Roland finally looked at her. His tongue was hesitant to let the words hovering in his mouth escape, but a few seconds later he spat them out. "You should hate me."
Ashlyn sighed. She was already sick of this conversation, Roland thought, just hearing the tone of her exhalation. "L-look, Roland, i-it doesn't matter. I don't care if you made a mistake."
"I almost killed you."
"A-and I played a part in blowing up a city," Ashlyn argued. "W-which almost killed you. And killed a lot of people..."
Roland shook his head. "That's... That's not your–"
"It is... and you should know that." She glared a little at him. "Th-this... This is the problem with you, Roland. You treat things your friends do as forgivable, which is fine. It's a good trait to have, to be able to forgive. B-but then you treat everything you do as some kind of grave mistake. Y-you always do this. You bash yourself up a-and... I don't like it."
She inhaled. There was a hint of anger in her expression, feelings she was trying to keep locked away. She hated him for acting like this.
"You remind me of myself."
"I..." Roland stopped, the words catching in his throat. She was right about that. That he was always making his errors seem bigger than they were.
"Th-the point is, we all make mistakes," she continued. "Didn't you say that to Myrtle? Or does that not go for you? Are you a special case?"
Roland was beginning to realise his logic hadn't been so infallible. He was being a total hypocrite and letting others down because of it.
"L-look, I just... Just don't do this, Roland," the blue dragoness pleaded. "I-I know how you feel but you're wrong. I really like you, okay? If you could forgive me, I could forgive you for anything. Not that all of this is nearly as bad. And it was also still kind of on all of us..."
"I'm... I'm sorry." He looked down, back into the ocean. Now he just felt bad about trying to hurt himself earlier. He was being a moron.
With a paw, he wiped his eyes clear of that wetness. When he realised his paw was also wet and he'd just wiped a glob of blood over his face, he recoiled slightly and hastily rubbed it off with his leg. Ashlyn noticed before he could remove it.
"W-wait, why are you bleeding?" She shifted closer. She reached for his hidden paw with hers and pulled it up to have a look. Embarrassed, Roland looked in the other direction. "What did you do to yourself?"
"I... I got mad and punched the railing," he replied with a hint of annoyance at himself. "It still stings..."
"That's what woke me up, then..." Ashlyn reached into her satchel, dug around for a few moments, then pulled a cloth out of it. With a waterskin she'd tied around her neck, she drenched the rag. Once again, she grabbed his paw and wiped off the area he'd grazed his toes. Roland stood there, watching her worry over his injuries like she was some poor old nurse.
"Uh... Isn't that the rag you use to polish your ring?" Roland asked. Why would she dirty that one? Wasn't that and her ring special to her?
"...Y-yeah, but I don't have anything else on me. I can wash it later." She pulled something else out of her satchel, a small bandage roll. Roland frowned.
"I... don't think that's necessary." He chuckled softly. She was adamant about this, however. She wouldn't let go off his paw.
"It could get infected!" she exclaimed as she wrapped the wound up. "Y-you don't know what's been touching this boat!"
Now the urge to have a little fun with her surfaced. "You're adorable when you worry."
And so the expected reaction came. She tensed up, her mouth parting, words snared in her mouth.
"I-I, uh... Th-the others would do the same!" She shook her head. "I... N-no, I'm... I'm not–"
It made him crack a grin and laugh every single time. Something about his amusement seemed to stop her, though, and she just put on her own smile, realising his intentions. When he finished chortling, Roland let out a content sigh.
Here she was, helping him yet again, caring for him like he was something special to her. It was always her. She put up with his bullshit, could somehow swim through that and reach whatever good he had in him. She was something else...
He felt that temptation to say something about his feelings, but now wasn't a good time. They'd only just escaped from the clutches of the Guardians, and he still felt too angry at himself. He was only beginning to lose the adrenaline now. That, and he didn't think she would be all that interested. Not that he really cared. It wasn't that important to him. A good friendship like hers was more than enough for him. If he couldn't get more, he wouldn't ask for it.
"Are you feeling okay after everything? Th-those Guardians..." Ashlyn coated her voice in a subtle venom. "Th-they made my blood boil. How could they do this to you? I saw the claw marks on your chest. And Myrtle also told me about what they were planning. The hooded cheetahs mentioned it. I-it... It makes me sick."
He'd totally forgotten the claw marks had even been there, but those had been healed up alongside his leg. Roland wasn't going to lie about how ill he felt just thinking about the plan, though. If Myrtle and Tristana hadn't known, then he probably wouldn't have told them what the Guardians were planning. Nor would he ever want to bring it up anyway; it was so disgusting that he couldn't bring himself to speak of it in specifics. It also just wasn't important now.
He nodded, cringing a little at the thought of Brenton's words. "I'm okay now after everything. A lot happened. I... I killed a guy, but, you know..."
"I-I know how it feels," Ashlyn said. "It's hard. I didn't know how to feel. I-I got used to it after a while, but it always felt horrible. Sometimes... we just don't have a choice, though. I'm glad you did it to someone who at least deserved it."
Roland didn't think he'd ever wish death upon anybody at all – just the thought was cruel – but Brenton and the other Guardians were an exception. They were the lowest of the low, the scum, the filth of the Realms. They were truly wicked; Roland had never seen people so evil in his life before. That they'd even considered those horrible things in the circular chamber unnerved Roland.
He still didn't feel good having Brenton's blood on his claws, though. If he could've avoided it, he would've, but the Guardian needed to die.
Silently, he thanked Garv for teaching him how to do it.
"There was one before that, you know," Roland started. Ashlyn looked up from the sea, her head tilted. "Back in Firemore. There was a dragon, a guy called Garv. He asked me to kill him. There was nothing I could do and I felt pressured, so I... I helped him out."
"I can imagine." Ashlyn nodded. Roland looked back down into the waters, his paws falling off the railing. "Sorry you had to go through that..."
"It's okay." He sighed. "I think we've all been through more than enough. We shouldn't have to be the ones to save the world from calamity, but here we are. I guess that does sort of entail going through a bunch of crap. This whole thing feels like something out of an adventure novel. But it's okay. As long as I've got you guys, I'm fine. We can do this. Then maybe the Ancestors will be kind and let us rest."
"Hopefully," she replied with a sanguine smile. She turned around and tapped his leg with her tail blade. He hadn't thought about it for a while, but her blade had grown back since the table had smashed it in Firemore. He'd never even realised... "Are you coming back to bed now? Y-you look a bit, uh... dead."
"I dunno if I can sleep." He didn't really think there was a point, either. Soon, everybody would be awake. He could wait an hour, resting in the amber sunrise.
"Maybe... Maybe I'll stay, then," she said. She put her paws up on the railing again. "I have a question, actually. When's your hatchday, Roland?"
"Uh... Fifteen days from now, I think?" He believed that was right. He wasn't too sure how long he'd been in locked in the chamber, but he doubted it'd been long. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason. I just wanted to know." Of course, that was a lie. There was more behind it than simply desiring knowledge.
"You're not getting me a present, are you?"
Ashlyn grinned a little. "Well... Maybe."
"I dunno what you'd get me now. We're not gonna be near any shops for a long time. Are you gonna draw me something?"
"Nope. I have something worth more."
"Uh... Is it money?"
"No. Th-that's a bit boring."
"Your love and affection?"
"No – wait, what?"
Roland laughed. "I have no clue, Ash."
"You'll see!" she said with a giggle. "I can't wait to see your reaction! I would've given it to you now, but now that I know it's coming up soon..."
"Aww, c'mon, Ash... You know how much I hate not knowing." He nudged her side. "Give me a hint, at least."
Ashlyn gave a teasing shake of the head. Roland kept trying to pursue information about this hatchday present, but she was unwilling to give clues. It was probably something he wouldn't ever suspect. Something that reminded him of her.
He definitely hadn't been expecting her. But whereas Roland usually abhorred surprises, she was one he was welcoming towards.
They chatted for what felt like hours, laughing and cracking jokes at each other, casually conversing. Ashlyn had this happiness about her he hadn't seen from her in a while. It'd been a little bit since they'd spoken like this, the last time back in the woods near Shimmervale. He wished they had time to do it more. She was a fun individual to have a chat with.
He was glad to have her here, sailing with them.
"How many rubs do you need?" Roland asked. Fluffy pressed into him further and further, harder and harder, until he knocked the red dragon over. He hunched down so his hairy body anchored Roland to the ground.
Roland grunted, then let out a peeved exhalation. He'd passed out that morning, speaking to Ashlyn, which he was thankful for, but any sleep he would've had was totally ruined by his dreadwing basically belly flopping on top of him only an hour later. Sure, maybe Roland had gotten himself quite hurt the previous day, had tangoed with death itself, but he didn't need this level of affection right now.
When he heard Myrtle snicker as she walked by, Roland thinned his eyes.
"Don't give me that look," she said. "Your fault for bringin' a dreadwing."
"Snugglewing would be a better n – F-Fluffy, that tickles!" His whole stomach jerked up as Fluffy rubbed his face along his belly. Roland laughed, his weakness identified. "S-s-stop! G-get him off!"
"Nah." Myrtle shrugged as she left him there, helpless and tortured. "I'd help, but I got things to do!"
"Things to do!?" Roland yelled after her. His answer never came. Roland hoped she'd be eternally cursed by the Ancestors for not assisting those in need. She had nothing to do at all; she'd only come to tease him.
He tried to push against his dreadwing, but his level of strength was minuscule when so starkly compared to his beast. "F-Fluffy, get up!"
The dreadwing was hesitant to move. When his flat snout twitched and he closed his eyes in some kind of acceptance, however, he fully relented. Roland folded his paws so they covered his belly. He looked up at Fluffy in loose amusement.
"Can I go and find the others now?" he asked. He crossed his paws so they protected his belly from further assault. Fluffy's tongue rolled out of his mouth; he made a face akin to a soundless sigh. Roland took that as a dubious 'fine.' "Thanks, bud."
He rolled onto his stomach, flared out his wings, and stretched his legs, careful not to press too hard on the paw he'd broken last night. It still hurt a bit and was swollen, making movement slightly more difficult, but he could manage.
After Fluffy lowered his head on instinct and Roland gave him a couple pats close to the forehead, the red dragon set out to find the others. Ashlyn had dozed off next to him last night in their lengthy conversation – he remembered the grin he had on his face when she suddenly started snoring – and he wished to find her, check on what she was up to. Or if he encountered Myrtle again, see what she had plans to do today.
Maybe he'd find Tris somewhere on board. He wouldn't have minded meeting up with her as well, but after last night, he was uncertain about speaking with her. The others were in a particularly decent mood, all things considered, but he couldn't imagine the same thing in her. No, she'd definitely been through the most.
Harper had come back for a split second only to perish on their way out. In the end, he had changed his ways. The thought made Roland feel bad about not being able to give him a proper funeral. He was lost to the waves now. They couldn't keep his body on board. They'd given Tris as much time as she needed with him to say goodbye, but they couldn't keep the corpse on board forever.
Just watching the way Tristana curled up into her bedroll broke Roland's heart, and it hurt even more knowing there wasn't anything he could do. She didn't need to be experiencing this. If anything, she was the one person that didn't need to be here. All their journey had caused her was pain and heartbreak. Sure, she'd made friends along the way, but this quest had ruined so much of her life that he wasn't sure if that in itself was worth it.
He felt an urge to check on her, see how she was doing, and so first he headed for the captain's quarters back up the steps to find her. He found Tris sat against the wall in the corner, rugged up in her sleeping bag. She studied the wooden boards. Myrtle had situated herself before her.
"Everythin' okay?" Myrtle asked, extending her paw toward the yellow dragoness. It landed where her shoulder was in the bedroll.
"I'm fine," she muttered, her tone breathy and weak. "I... Everything's okay."
"You just tell me if you want anything at all. I'll get it for you."
"Hey." Roland walked inside, introducing himself. Myrtle acknowledged his presence with a nod, but Tris continued to stare at the floor, her attention focused elsewhere. He stood by the doorway. He tried to think of a question to ask, something to spark a new conversation and get Tristana's mind off of Harper. Nothing came. Thankfully, Myrtle was there to save him this time.
"You're sportin' some new scars," she said. "Where'd you get those? I didn't see 'em last night."
He looked down upon his chest; three faded lines cut through his grey breast like he'd been maimed by the claws of some savage animal. And, well, maybe that was true. "Brenton, uh... kinda hurt me. He tied me to a platform, heated up his claws..."
"The fuck?" Myrtle frowned, her eyes narrowing. "You mean he... tortured you?"
"You could say that."
Myrtle screwed up her face in disgust. "Can't believe someone would do that to you, plan to do those things with us... I fucking hope he dies."
Roland scratched at the top of his head. He didn't really want to be reminded of last night, nor did he believe it was a thing he needed to share, but he'd told Ashlyn. It was probably okay if he brought it up to the others. "I... ripped out his throat. He's dead."
Myrtle's eyes widened in surprise. It took a few moments for the realisation to set in, but when it did, her features turned eerily serious. She lifted herself from Tristana's position and walked over to him. "Ancestors... Are you alright, Roly?"
"I dunno how to feel," he said, looking towards the floor. "But don't worry about me. It's done and I can't change it. I just don't really wanna think about it."
"We've all been through a lot." She raised a leg and sat it on his shoulder, this time the side that hadn't been broken. She snaked it around the back of his neck in a sort of half-embrace. "Thank the fuckin' Ancestors we'll be out of this shit-storm soon."
"I couldn't ask for anything more." He nodded. "I don't really know how I'm getting Drevon back now, though. The time magic stuff was all a lie..."
"The original plan, Roly. Don't think the time magic stuff'll matter." Her smile was at the very least a little reassuring. "We'll talk him out of it just like before. He'll listen to us. We're his friends. Don't doubt that for one second. He loves you."
"Loves me..." Roland grinned a little. "Pretty sure I'm only his friend."
"Well, I mean..." Myrtle laughed at her thoughts. Intrigued, Roland waited for her answer. She looked up again a few seconds later. "He did kinda have a crush on you. Just sayin'..."
"You're hilarious," he said with an almost disappointed scowl. He was merely jesting, of course.
"Oh, c'mon... It was so obvious."
"Nah."
"Yeah."
"No."
"Yep, and if you keep sayin' no, I'll hurt you."
"You'd hit a cripple?" he asked, a slight laugh bursting from his mouth. There was a hint of nervousness in there somewhere.
"Yeah. But I also just hit people who disagree with me."
Roland opened his mouth to say something, but then he heard Tris giggling softly over near the wall. The sound brought with it immense joy; to hear, in her foul mood, a sound like that was nothing short of a miracle.
"You two are like a pair of kids," Tris said, wiping her eye off on her paw.
Like before when Ashlyn had said that, Myrtle and Roland replied in synchronisation with, "We are kids."
Tris chuckled more. "Yeah, I guess..."
Myrtle turned around, full of relief, and took a step towards Tris, only to trip over Roland's paw and fall clumsily to the ground with a yelp. She thumped against the floorboards, the contents of her unbuckled satchel flying across the floor. Most of it was copper, but there was another object, an oddly shaped piece of yellow wood. It slid along the ground and stopped just at Tristana's feet. Roland realised it was a harp when he noticed the black strings, pulled taut and lining its ornate frame. It was patterned with swirls, ones that reminded him of the fluffy whites in the sky.
"Are you okay?" Tris asked. "And... is that a harp?"
Myrtle got up, her eyes bleeding fear. "I, uh... Y-yeah. It is..."
"Can you play it?" Tris got up and grabbed it off the floor. She studied its glistening frame. Her eyes twinkled.
"Um... A bit," Myrtle answered. "I... D-don't laugh, okay?"
"Why would I laugh!?" Tristana jumped up in excitement. "That's so cool! I had no idea you could play an instrument!"
Clearly, that wasn't been the response Myrtle had been expecting. She seemed relieved to hear it. "Well, I mean... I'm not that great. I just play for fun sometimes. I stole this one in Shimmervale because it looked good, but I haven't played in a while. I'd be a bit rusty."
"If there's ever been a time to boast, it's now." Roland was surprised to see her act like this. She was a masterful musician, yet it remained one of the only things she was humble about. "I've heard you play before. You're pretty damn good."
"Ooh, can she sing?" Tris butted in. She placed the glistening instrument into Myrtle's outstretched paw. "If you can sing..."
"Eh, I've... dabbled." Myrtle chuckled halfheartedly. She seemed a bit more confident now that Tris had responded to this news well. "Is there... anything you wanna hear? Guess now that you know I play, you'd wanna hear a song."
Tristana itched her chin for a few moments. She let out a quiet gasp as a recommendation came to mind. "Oh, can you play Old Navy? That's one of my favourites."
"Maybe. I do like that one a lot." Myrtle shrugged a little, fidgeting with the harp in her claws. "Doubt I can make it sound as good as Amberleene Walker, but I can give it a shot..."
"You're in for a treat," Roland muttered to Tris.
Myrtle didn't seem to hear as she sat upon her hind paws, her eyes closed, toes playing with the strings. She strummed a few resonant notes to get a feel for the instrument again. She cleared her throat and quivered like her nerves had been pulled to their tightest, setting the harp down next to herself.
And then she played. She was slow at first, strumming notes of a calibre so sombre. The old navy song, the aftermath of a fierce battle at sea, the oceans red but calm. A song of ships delving into the sea, their masters lost. Myrtle hummed quietly to herself, tracing the notes she played with her voice.
To Roland, it sounded like there were very few survivors. Something resembling hope seemed to come for those that survived, though, the tune picking up with grander chords. Quickly, it was lost, like the rescuers sailed straight past. Of lost hope and devastation, this song was. Finding joy, only to have it torn away. As the green dragoness finished, the notes quietened, the fate of the navy as though it were foretold. They were no more.
Myrtle seemed to stop shivering in fear when she looked upon Tristana's amazed expression. The yellow dragoness gaped, not expecting such a moving tone out of her. Roland sat back, his paws folded, impressed but knowing how much she was already capable of.
"That was... That was amazing!" Tris yelled, throwing her paws into the air, flaring her wings out. "Y-you nailed it! It was perfect!"
"Well, uh... I'm glad you liked it," Myrtle said with a grin. "Thought it was okay, but..."
Roland shook his head. "It was way better than 'okay,' Myrtle. You're a really good musician. I'd pay to listen to you play."
It seemed that comment surprised her by the way her maw dropped open. "You... You actually mean that?"
"Yeah!" He wasn't going to say no. She had serious potential, skill unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. She could become famous for the masterful way she played. "I really would pay to see that. And I usually don't like spending money."
Myrtle didn't seem to know how to take that response for a second. Moments later, a confident smile barged the confusion and humble expression away. "Well, I'm glad you both liked it. Didn't think I'd actually impress you like that. Always wanted to be a musician."
"Maybe after this you can be!" Tris said. She looked like she wanted to bounce up and down, almost as if last night had never happened. Her sorrow had totally disappeared. For that, Roland was delighted. "You should've shown me earlier!"
"I would've, but it just never seemed like a... 'me' thing to do. Thought you might judge me for it. That, and I did kinda lose my harp back in Firemore."
"Oh, c'mon, Myrtle," Roland said, tone ridiculing. "We all know you aren't a tough girl. You're like an avocado."
Myrtle let out a puzzled snicker. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"You're rough and ugly on the outside, but–"
Myrtle didn't hesitate to punch him in the chest. It wasn't as hard as usual, but it didn't lack the point she was trying to make.
"I was gonna say beautiful on the inside!" Roland staggered backwards, fearful of her next move. He smiled despite that. "Not that avocados are, like... that beautiful on the inside, either..."
"Die," the green dragoness said.
There came a round of laughter, a wave of cheeriness unexpected in these times. Even in this dire situation – even when they'd gone through this much trauma and pain – they could still manage a chuckle, and that made Roland beyond happy. Everyone was here for each other.
"Hello," a new voice spoke, the deep tone of the llama. "I'm glad to see you all in a good mood. We're in for a rough night tonight, so I'll be happy if we can keep that up."
"Rough night?" Roland asked. Alevor nodded.
"Aye. There's a storm on the horizon." Alevor pointed behind him, to the swarm of darkness lingering in the sky like a hoard of shadowspawn. It was in sharp contrast to the bright, cheerful blues around. "It's blowing this way. Definitely doesn't look good. I hope it goes away."
Tris looked fearful for a moment. "Will we be okay?"
"Of course." The atlawa nodded. "It'll probably just be a rough night of sleeping." He smacked the doorway with a hand. "My ship's been through far worse."
Roland knew everything would be okay in the end. Everyone here had been through far, far worse than this. That deep black swirl on the horizon didn't look like it was joking around, but that measly storm was nothing compared to everything else. Like Alevor said, it would probably be a night of inadequate sleep, and Roland didn't get enough of that to begin with, so it didn't really matter to him.
And after that storm, they'd soon be in Dante's Freezer, too. If they could've sped up the ship, they would've, but this boat wasn't particularly efficient with them. They had three small gemstones left and they were being saved in the event that somebody was injured. Alevor was doing things below deck to keep the ship moving forward, though, so it wasn't that important.
He hoped he'd find Drevon over there. And if not – if this was all a waste of time – his next destination would be the Mountain of Malefor. Even in spite of everything, he felt like he could trust Wren on that much.
He didn't want to have to go there. Hopefully all this would be fixed in the icy wastes. But if it came to that, he'd stop at nothing to get there.
When rain started to drum against the metal hull, Roland knew he wasn't getting any sleep. Even nestled against his dreadwing and snuggled up in the warmth of his bedroll, there was simply no chance. And so he listened to the dull metallic patter emerge, the muted splatter against the wooden deck, the literal calm before the storm.
He stared up into the roof, then to all of his friends who'd managed to fall asleep like normal dragons. He was kind of jealous that they'd figured it out so easily. Myrtle was able to get to sleep, her maw wide open, short snores escaping her mouth. She was still off spirit gems and she could find a way to slumber. The swelling in her wings was beginning to ease off. She'd actually be able to fly soon.
Maybe Alevor was having trouble? Roland couldn't tell, though. He went to sleep elsewhere, probably in the bottom of the ship.
He wasn't sure why his body was making it so difficult for him to find comfort. Was it the nerves? The beat of his heart in his ears, just thinking about Drevon? Maybe it was just how scary this plan was. Roland had been sure he'd be able to revert Drevon back using time magic before and had tossed the other plan away, thinking it practically suicide, but now he had to opt for that again. He wasn't sure how much he trusted Myrtle that things would go smoothly anymore. Her ability to be reassuring was wearing off quicker than usual. But he believed in himself. He had to do this.
By some miracle, he hoped Drevon would listen to him.
There came a flash that made him blink his eyes shut, and then several seconds later the distant crack of thunder came forth. It was like a threat, an instigation of aggression. That storm was about to bite.
Roland sighed lowly, rolling around a little bit. His dreadwing muttered something, some growl of confusion, but quietened down when the red dragon didn't respond.
Then, there came a quivering breath. If Roland hadn't been so perceptive, he wouldn't have known which direction it'd come from, let alone noticed it at all over the rain. He knew that tone and it'd come from Tristana's direction. He tried to listen for a moment more to learn if he was only imagining it and then it came again, a little louder now that his attention was fixed on her.
A low, muffled sob, a sharp inhalation of air. Roland felt his heart tighten in his chest, like it was clawing at his rib cage and drawing it closer. He wasn't sure if approaching was a good idea or not. He was too anxious about saying something wrong. He knew what this was about and knew it was an awfully touchy subject.
In the end, though, his curiosity and need to help got the better of him. As silently as he could, he removed himself from the bedroll. His dreadwing went to complain, but when Roland put a claw to his mouth, he made no noise. Fluffy seemed to hear her cries too after a while and even he looked like he wanted to get closer.
He tiptoed past Myrtle to the yellow dragoness facing the wall. He was hesitant to grab her attention. She sniffled, wiping her eyes, having not noticed him standing over her. He wasn't sure if he should even be doing this, or if she really needed the attention. Maybe it was better to respect her privacy...
He really couldn't help himself, though.
"Tris?" he whispered. She seemed startled as she rolled over. She probably thought everyone was asleep. "Are you alright?"
"...No," she replied after some time. "Did I wake you up?"
"Nah, I haven't been able to sleep at all." Roland shrugged. "Have you been able to sleep?"
"I haven't." She shook her head as she sat up. "D-did you want something?"
Roland didn't really know what to say. He felt like he was being a little too invasive. He wasn't sure why. He'd always done this to try and help people...
Maybe it was just because it was about Harper. This subject was harder than what usually dealt with.
"I just wanted to check on you." Roland sat before her.
"Don't worry about me," she said. "I'm j-just thinking..."
He wasn't certain how to continue this conversation or about what to say to her. Maybe he could've had a think about it before he headed over. It was probably a good idea to see if she actually wanted to have this discussion in the first place, though.
"Do you wanna chat about it?" Even if he wasn't totally sure what to say, he quietly hoped she would. As long as it would make her feel better, of course. If she wanted alone time then he'd give it to her without questioning it. He didn't want to say something wrong and upset her more.
Tris stayed quiet, considering it. It felt like a minute before she opened her mouth again to whisper.
"I just... I just miss him. For a second I-I had him back and he... h-he seemed fine. But right after he apologised... Why? W-why did he have to go like that?"
Tris craned her head. She sniffled.
"Why did she have to do that to him? It's... It's so unfair..."
"It really is." Roland nodded. Tris stopped laying and sat up, against the wall. Roland joined her on her side. She didn't bother unwrapping herself from the bedroll. "Life's just shit sometimes. It's been unfair to us all, especially you. You didn't need to come with us. You of all people should be happy."
"I feel like I need to help. I want to. I want to be with you three." Tris sighed, breath quivering like reeds to the wind. "I-I just wish I c-could've stopped that... that green bitch before she got him."
Roland was taken aback to see her curse like that, but he understood and it wasn't like he'd chastise her for it. "I understand."
Then, he had a thought. He wasn't sure if it'd make her feel any better, but it was worth a shot. Maybe he could make her see that he understood and that everything was okay.
"I... lost my mum, you know?" he said. She seemed quite shocked to hear it. "I loved her with all my heart. I did run away from home because I couldn't deal with all the arguing my parents did, but I loved her. After I came back, though... She'd killed herself."
"I... I didn't know," she said. "I'm sorry about that..."
"You don't need to feel that way. It's been a long time. If my dad's still out there – I doubt he is – then I want him to know that I hate him for being the cause... That's not the point, though. I understand how it feels. It's really shit and there's nothing we can do about it. All I can do is be there for you like my friend was for me."
Seth had been there at one point, taking care of him when all that happened. They hadn't even known each other that long and yet he'd still tried his best. Times changed eventually, though, and he'd started doing those awful things.
He wished he could have the old Seth back. He wished Drevon hadn't killed him...
"That's... Thanks." She sniffed again, rubbing her eyes with her paws. "Sorry about... swearing before."
"Oh, c'mon, me and Myrtle swear all the time. I don't give a shit." He chuckled softly. He saw the amusement on her expression and couldn't help but grin a little. "But yeah. I'm here if you just wanna talk to someone. I dunno if I can do much to help, but if there's anything you need..."
She lost what little happiness she had swiftly and fell once more into the depths of her mind.
Roland sighed. He raised a wing and draped it over her back in a loose embrace. Her muscles tensed up in surprise for a moment, but she quickly relaxed. Tristana sighed, sounding almost relieved, like his wing was lifting the iron weights off her shoulders.
"You're... bony. Unlike Myrtle," Tris murmured. Roland tried to stifle his laugh to keep everybody from waking up, but he failed at keeping it from escaping. Thankfully, nobody moved a muscle in response. She smiled a bit more, too.
"Do you remember me back in Firemore?" Roland asked. He still could; he'd been but a bag of bones painted red. He actually had some chub on his legs and belly now. "How unhealthy I looked?"
"Yeah, you look a lot better now. I would even say more attractive now that you have more muscle."
Roland didn't really agree with that, but he had to frown at her compliment either way. "I thought you were a lesbian?"
"Just because I'm not into guys doesn't mean I can't judge them," she said. She thoroughly enjoyed this random topic, and he could tell just by looking at the growing curl of her muzzle. "I only say so because somebody seems to like you."
"I'm doubtful." Roland lifted his wing off her. She looked a little happier now. "Who?"
"You are so oblivious!" Tris hissed. "Who else? Come on, Roland... Ashlyn likes you!"
He shook his head profusely. That simply wasn't true. He wasn't good enough for that. "No, she doesn't. Why do you think that?"
"Just by the way she acts around you," she responded. "Plus, I've talked to her before. She told me herself. She... did tell me not to tell you that, but I can't handle you being so oblivious!"
Tris didn't seem like the kind of person to lie. He was shocked to hear it. Something about that just seemed so unreal. "Did she really say that?"
"Yes." She nodded. "You two are practically made for each other. You're both so cute. I just wonder if you like her that way. By the way you're talking it doesn't seem like you're that interested..."
He hesitated on his words, wondering if it was a horrible idea to trust Tristana with that information. She seemed like the kind to be unable to keep his secrets to herself, if what she'd just told him about Ashlyn was true.
What did it really matter, though? If they both felt something for each other, then it wouldn't make much of a difference if something was said. Maybe it'd even help out when the time came.
"I hope she isn't awake," he said, masking his voice as much as he feasibly could. "What if I said I did like her, though?"
Tris almost seemed to want to pump a fist, as though she was excited by that. "Then yay! You should ask her out."
"I... think it might be better to wait a little while first." He chuckled, a hint of anxiety in his tone. It hadn't been long enough yet. It didn't seem like the right direction right now, what with only the month they'd known each other. They'd become very quick friends in that amount of time, but Roland was unsure if a stronger relationship could spawn from that at this moment.
"I have seen people find love quicker..." Tris shrugged. "But I understand you, Roland. That's really the only thing stopping me from asking Myrtle. I love everything about her. She's been there for me every step of the way, always makes me laugh, is a surprisingly huggable... She's basically perfect. But it doesn't feel like it's been long enough yet. I know she feels the same way about me, but she probably thinks the same thing. I want to give it more time first."
Tris suddenly seemed embarrassed that she'd just revealed all of that in front of him. It was obvious there was an attraction to him, though. Roland wasn't that blind to love. Maybe he hadn't been able to see Ashlyn feeling anything for him, but that was just his moronic mind at work, loathing himself on instinct. He knew he needed to stop that stuff.
A flickering light flashed in the captain's quarters and, not even a second after it, came the crackling boom of thunder. A bolt of lightning struck the ocean, one that reminded Roland of the power Tris held inside herself, thoughts of last night resurfacing.
He winced at the noise of rain pouring in torrents, hammering at the hull, the storm's onslaught having begun. Tris looked through the doorway as yet another streak of lightning sliced through the air and formed a spider-like web of unbridled energy.
"It's getting pretty bad..." Roland muttered, though he didn't believe Tris heard him over the noise. Yet another clap of thunder and this one seemed far closer. Myrtle shot up in an instant, and Ashlyn blinked her gaze open.
The two dragonesses peered wildly at their surroundings, trying to make sense of the world, when the boat lurched and everybody lost balance. Tristana tumbled into Roland, knocking them both over. Myrtle and Ashlyn tripped. Even Fluffy, with those powerful legs of his, couldn't keep himself upright.
"Ow..." Myrtle said as she got up, only for the ship to stagger upwards. Everybody fell forward. Roland tried to reach for something to grab and his paw landed on a handle on the engine. Everyone had the same idea, except for Fluffy, who seemed to have no clue what to do other than rush towards Roland.
Suddenly, Alevor burst through the doorway, grasping the metal to keep his balance. His white fur was matted and sopping. "I might need to steer this thing! It's gonna be a rough ri–"
A deafening blast of power cut him off. Sparks burst from the engine Roland was holding onto; he was quick to remove his paw and leap away, incredibly lucky to not get fried. He fell into Fluffy. Then came another. By some cruel, twisted miracle, it slammed into the deck, roaring and creating a hole through the wood and the metal hull
"We–" Alevor didn't get any further than that when he was knocked over. Roland caught a glimpse of the world outside, to the waves growing larger and larger, colossi in their own right. The first of many smashed into the ship, ripping apart the railings and ruining the wood, as though they'd never been fastened to the ship in the first place.
Roland stumbled out the doorway, just barely managing to keep himself from falling over the edge into the monstrous depths below. He scrambled backwards in a panic, but before he could get back inside, a surging wave of water smacked into the ship again, thrusting him into the ocean. His name was screamed, but it was lost to the violent, gurgling water in his ears.
His first mistake was to try and breathe. He inhaled water, salt stinging at his mouth, his lungs topped off with fluid. His chest throbbed. While retching and only managing to push more water into his system, he reached forward, almost to pull himself back to the surface so he could vomit up the contents of his lungs. He had no clue where the ship had gone; all senses were lost to the sea, just like Harper.
And then it came back. He didn't see it coming.
He felt a burst of pain in his head, heard the metal hull ring out. Something heavy splashed in the water beside him – a scream rang out – but very quickly everything was lost.
He fell, descending forever.