The rain didn't stop for another week. By that time, Talia had calmed down significantly and seemed to be returning to her old habits (everyone had guiltily hoped that her habits would cease altogether due to sadness, but they were all sadly mistaken). Her sarcastic attitude was restored and, though no one would admit it (after they had gotten over her not dropping the habits), most were glad to have the old Captain Frost back.

They stopped at another town to rest and restock (Yes, again. Most were afraid that the food and things were contaminated with the sickness that most had suffered, so they had to pick up brand new stuff), as well as take some time to themselves. Jack, naturally, headed straight to the tavern, several things on his mind (two of the total three things having to do with Sarah) that he intended to drown in alcohol. Sarah played cards with Ryan (she had never played him before and she won on the first game--"beginner's luck" was what Ryan had called it). Talia went off to think (and plunder)--and dragged Asher along with her (he didn't mind).

"…So…is there any specific reason you brought me along?" Asher asked after around ten minutes of walking and silence. She glanced back at him (she was walking slightly in front of him), her arms crossed, which gave her an aloof sort of look.

"No. Got a problem with me bringing ye?" She replied stiffly. Her eyes resumed looking straight ahead

"Not at all," He answered loosely. She glanced back at him again.

"…How're ye?" She finally asked. He smiled.

"I've been better, but I'm alright. And you?"

"…Ehh. 'Suppose I could be worse." She shrugged.

It was a nice day. The sun was barely hidden behind grayish-white clouds. The sky was a sweet, calm blue that had a small hint of gray in it. A very slightly cool breeze slid across the faces of the townspeople.

Asher couldn't complain--as long as you were friends with Talia, she wasn't so bad. Sarcastic, yes, sometimes scary, yes, but also entertaining to speak with. After another sequence of walking with no talking, he looked to her again and asked,

"You aren't just here to think, are you?"

She laughed, turning around and walking backwards. "You're too dem smart for your own good, Asher. 'Course I'm not just thinking." She stopped, which caused her partner to halt, as well. "Once again, I come to attempt--not that I use attempt as a derogatory term for islands now--attempt to pillage and plunder. Already it looks bleak, but it's worth a try, eh?" Asher shook his head. He had to agree with her, islands/towns/sometimes-even-villages didn't have much in the way of loot anymore. Pity.

"Hencetoforth, as I run off to rifle and loot, I'll have to ask you to stay here. Don't take it personally--but I work solo for this. I will, however, return and discuss with ye the fruit--if any--of me labors. Ye know…asking what to throw out, what to keep."

"Yeah, I get it." A short laugh. "I'll just wait here then. Take your sweet time, cap'n." She nodded, some half-cocked grin across her face. It seemed that the only thing that kept her thoughts away from Adrian was stealing things. She turned and slunk off to…well…steal…things.

Five minutes after she disappeared into the shadows, presumably to search in solitude and secrecy for a place to shoplift, a man (who had been watching the two of them since they had stepped off the ship) tapped Asher on the shoulder as he stood in the deserted clearing several feet from the road. Asher turned and was surprised to see a man with sandy hair and harsh gray eyes. The newcomer smiled coldly at him.

"…Do you need something?" Asher asked, wondering why the man had walked over to him, as opposed to someone else in the town--I mean, he was standing in a clearing on the side of the road somewhere.

"Yes, I do--I was hoping…are you acquaintances with Captain Frost of the Death Lily? Perhaps, do you know…a man named Asher?" The man looked vaguely suspicions, with his cool smile and frozen eyes. There was something wicked about him.

"Ah, yeah, that's me, Asher." How did he know who he was? "May I ask who you are?" The guy was a complete stranger--to know his name was a small question taken out of a mass of question swirling around in his cranium.

"Most call me Drew."

Bam. He knew that name. "Ohh, you're that guy Talia is always talking about. The stalker." The man, now known as Drew, didn't seem to take offense to his belittling comment about him being a stalker. He smiled wider, actually.

"I daresay she speaks highly of me?" It shouldn't have been a question, what with his wording, but he mad it one anyway. What? Asher thought. Is he thinking of the same Talia who told me how much she hated Drew and told me what she actually said to Drew that one day when she had thrown her knife at him? Baffled, Asher shook his head and cocked one eyebrow.

"Um…no. She…uh…she hates you, actually." He didn't seem to take offense to this either.

"Ah, but she jests!" It's worse than she described! He is totally clueless!

"Listen, if you're looking for Talia, she's not here right no--"

"No! My friend, I am looking for you. You see…I would like to challenge you, the victor earns Talia."

"What??"

"And the fighter, my opponent, must be you, you see, for you are a rival for her affections." Eloquently put, yes, but not at all true. Asher was no rival to Talia's affections.

"Uhm…Drew? What are you talking about? Talia's only affections are for her ship and her knives. Possibly violence…her brother and her uncle in a family sort of way…and…well, blood." He laughed a little. All the things he said were true, most assuredly, but Drew's reaction was that of someone who hadn't heard what had been said at all. Elegantly (…sort of…okay, not really, but Drew would have said it was elegant), Drew pulled out his sword and, with an air of false respect, took a fighting (sort of) stance. Asher frowned, bewildered to no limits, then shrugged, still with a puzzled look. "Well…okay…then…" He, too, drew his sword. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."

- - - - -

Talia slipped inside a pawn shop of sorts and took a good, long look around. Not much of interest, really. A few nice clocks, a couple articles of fine clothing (but nothing compared to things that were at a steeper price), and another person prowling the shelves with feigned interest.

"Need anything, deary?" Talia spun to stare at the owner of the ship--a crotchety-looking old woman with a happy shine in her eyes and a very grim expression otherwise--and her first reaction was to kill her after telling her not to call her 'deary.' But she reconsidered, smiled, and shook her head. Since she had seen nothing she wanted, she slipped back out the door, avoiding the old woman (she was really creepy to tell the truth).

The next store looked more promising. Inside, the walls were adorned with gold-decorated merchandise and the building itself was littered with prim-looking women with big, fancy, and pastel-colored hats.

Sick.

Anyway, Talia saw potential, so she seized her bag (she had taken off her outer jacket and made a makeshift bag out of it so she had somewhere to keep her stolen stuff) and snuck around the store, stashing expensive things away out of sight.

Pleased with her selection, she hastened out of the ship to avoid being spotted, then found a new desolate spot to review her profit--she tossed three out of seventeen objects, considering that all that stuff was sort of irritating to haul around and here where a few things she could do without. Now all set to continue plundering, she packed her things and began another search for a decent store.

Half an hour later, twenty-six things were crammed into Talia's not-so-big jacket-bag (which was getting pretty heavy) and she was ready to return to Asher. After finding her sense of direction, she made a beeline to the clearing in which her friend awaited her.

Something wasn't right when she arrived at the clearing. As she looked around, all she saw was shops and palm trees. Frowning, she dropped her bag. "Asher?" She suddenly became aware of a sort of darkness. She looked to the sky, which was no longer blue and cheery--it was a cold gray. She frowned more profusely. "What…?"

She saw something in the corner of her eye. It caught her attention and drew her gaze to the ground. A saber, the tip just barely red, was lying in the grass. From there, her eyes followed trampled grass to see Asher lying face flat on the ground. She swallowed hard. She blinked rapidly, dulling her vision just barely. She had seen so many as he was now--she prayed that he wasn't…

The grass below his head and neck was stained a darker color. Her hand flew instinctively to her mouth. "No--!" Asher was dead.

Not another one, not another loss. First her parents (though it was a while back), then her brother, now her friend and first mate--what next, Sarah? She thought unconsciously, sinking to the ground with her eyes still fixated on her friend. Droplets of rain came and began to leave dark spots on her clothes. It couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. She simply could not accept it.

"Something wrong, Talia?"

She turned swiftly, immediately recognizing the voice. Drew stood with a false, sympathetic look drawn across his narrow face and a blood splashed saver in his hand; clear evidence of Asher's killer. She stood, glaring savagely at him, then, with speed so blinding you probably wouldn't have been able to see her, she dashed over to Drew and wound her fingers, adorned with her ever-long nails, around his neck.

What with all the screaming coming from Talia in statements of how much she hated him, how badly she wanted him to die, and how painful his death would be (It was sort of a release of all her bottled hate for him, triggered by his murder of her friend--yes, he brought it all on himself. He shouldn't have stalked her, shouldn't have continually bothered her after she told him to bug off, and shouldn't have…well, in Talia's opinion, as well as a lot of other people's opinions, too, been born. Her hate, though, was usually not this intense.), several guards, as well as townspeople, began to gather around, attracted by the ruckus. One of the guards broke Talia way from Drew with great effort and struggled to hold her back as she screamed, "He killed my friend!! He killed my friend!!" She pointed, shaking with rage, at where Drew had been standing when they broke her away, only seconds ago.

But when they looked, Drew was gone like half-heard voices.