Fighting Fair

By: Chaoslace

-----

Chapter 4: The High Seas

-----

The port city of Badon is a sprawling, salty sea town full of shady-looking shops and surly-looking pirates. Fishermen's houses three generations old squat on the seaside by rickety ladders up to long planked docks that branch many fingers wide over the green harbor. Day and night have little meaning there, where the city stirs long before the sun graces the watery horizon, and the nightlife are still dripping off its dark underbelly when the fishers emerge to start their day's work. In some ways, it is a place like no other, only getting richer and more lively the deeper you dig beneath the surface.

Matthew loved it. You might say it was just his kind of place.

Much to his delight, the commanders announced that they were going to spend the night in town before leaving the next day. They still hadn't announced their destination, but from the hassle they had to go through just to get passage he knew that it probably wasn't a happy place. His curiosity piqued, he decided to go out after dark and see what he could find out about it. Creative acquisition of information was still his specialty, after all.

It wasn't too hard to slip away without being seen. Most everyone else had either retired early or gone to the tavern after dinner, making sneaking out as easy as simply taking a back door. He loved the way the city looked at night, with deep, long shadows that stretched over the uneven streets and the narrow lanes between buildings. Closer to the water, the air was thick and muted with humidity, creating the illusion of perfect stillness despite the lapping water and the dark figures that moved along the street. His sharp ears caught the sound of a bootstep on the wooden dockplanks and he knew that someone had clandestine business to conduct down on the harbor. He took a deep breath and smiled.

After a short walk and a shortcut under a badly maintained fence, he arrived at a plain entryway lit by a single yellow light bulb. An R was painted crudely in red on the wooden door. He didn't try the handle; he knew it would be locked. Instead, he held up one gloved hand and gave the door a firm knock. Somewhere inside there was a shuffling and he heard someone approach the door. "Do you know what time it is?" came a slightly muffled and annoyed-sounding voice.

"Oh, sorry," Matthew said brightly. "Am I too early?"

"Early? Why, I... we're not open! Go away!"

"Oh? Then when will you be open?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

"Not until ye get some better manners!" There was a decisive rap on the door.

Matthew jumped and started to laugh. "Don't make me pick this door open, old man!"

There was a pause, then the latch released and the door opened slowly. Warm light spilled out onto the street and an old man emerged to look up at Matthew with skeptical eyes. "Matthew? Is that you?"

"None other!" he said, smiling and leaning forward to pat his friend on the shoulder. "How ya been, Red?"

"I jus' can't believe it," Red said, shaking his head slowly. "Yer taller than I remember. Fer heaven's sakes, come in, come in!"

Matthew smiled gratefully and passed through into the small house. It was just as he remembered it; one long room, bare except for a cot behind a yellow curtain, a small fireplace, and several bookshelves covered in musty papers and yellowed books. The sole occupant was Red, an ancient pirate whose real name was lost to time and who had retired the sea life for a job in what he had come to call 'reference'. He scrambled over to the fire, where a kettle was boiling noisily.

"So what brings ye back to Badon, lad?" He poured a healthy dose of thick black liquid into his cup. "Want some coffee, then?"

"Er, no thanks," Matthew said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "That stuff takes years off your life, y'know."

Red chuckled and sat down across from him, nursing the steaming cup. "I'll believe it when I see it." He took a long sip and leaned back, looking at Matthew thoughtfully through heavy-lidded eyes. "So, tell me," he finally said matter-of-factly. "What brings ye to an old man's doorstep at this time a' the night?"

"Do you know the new group that came into town today?"

Red snorted into his coffee. "The three lordlings and their entourage? Aye, I heard about that. Hard not to, with all the noise they made about gettin' passage out of the harbor." He raised his eyebrows. "You with 'em?"

Matthew nodded. "I've been... employed in the service of Marquess Ostia since you saw me last. One of the lordlings here now is his brother."

"Gar har!" Red laughed, the sound echoing in the small room. "A spy! I knew it was in ye, you slippery dog!" He leaned forward on his knees. "So what can I do for ye, then? Got a special job for yer old mate Red?"

Matthew pulled out his purse and shook a pair of silver coins from it. He dropped them on the floor in front of the old man and they made a dull clanking noise as they landed heavily on the wood. "Tell me everything you know about the ship we've chartered for tomorrow, and where we're going."

Red pocketed the coins with one gnarled hand and looked up at Matthew sharply. "Ye mean... ye don't even know where yer own captains are goin'?"

"All I've gleaned is that it seems to be a fairly dangerous place. It was enough of a pain just getting someone to agree to take us there." He sat back thoughtfully. "I've heard that we've actually signed with pirates for the journey... hard to imagine the Lady Commander agreeing to that."

Red nodded slowly. "Might be for the best, that. Here, I'll show ye." He stood and went over to one of the bookshelves. From it, he drew a well-aged, rolled-up map, which he brought back over to spread before Matthew. A jagged scoop in the coastline revealed that it was a close-up of the harbor, with a detail of each of the major islands in the surrounding area. Many of their names sounded familiar, but Red pointed to the one furthest from the port, the one outlined in dark black ink to indicate dangerous waters. "Aye, there she is. The Dread Isle. Heard of it?" Matthew shook his head and Red nodded. "I thought as much. These marks here mean heavy fog. Here and here, there's a long rocky reef jus' below the water. Many an unfortunate ship has met her end on that shore, aye." He took a deep breath and rolled up the map. "It's not easy sailin' to get to that island. And if ye ask most people, they'll tell ye it's better off that way."

"Why's that? What's on the island?"

Red stood and put the map away. "I dunno," he said, his back to Matthew. "Never been there myself. But I've heard things. Heard there's bad things in that thick fog." He shuddered a little. "Place like that is bad luck. If I didn't know ye better, I'd say steer clear of it."

Matthew sat back, his face screwed up in thought. "Hmm," he said, half to himself. "What could we be after, I wonder?"

Red walked over to him and offered one hand to help him up. "Now, I wouldn't worry too much. I heard yer crew took up with none other than Captain Fargus. He's a good one, I can tell ye." He nodded resolutely. "If anyone can get ye there safely, he's the man for it."

The young thief smiled and nodded. "That's good to hear." He turned to leave, fastening his cloak closed at the side. "Thanks very much, Red. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I always do!" He gave Matthew a toothy grin and a bear hug before pushing him roughly out the door. "Let me know what it's like when ye get back!" he called out, then shut the door, leaving Matthew alone on the dark street.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and mused about what he had learned as he made his way back to the inn. Very curious, he thought. I could tell Lord Hector, but I somehow think that wouldn't change anything. He shrugged, trying to shake off a bad feeling that had come over him. Something just isn't right about this.

When he got back, all of the others were in bed and his usual nighttime restlessness had flown from him. He climbed up the back stairs to the suite of rooms they had reserved. He slipped in through the window and made his way through the darkness to an empty bed, which shared a room with three other sleeping bodies. One of them was snoring.

He gladly shed his cloak, which felt cool and clammy from the humid night air. He tossed it on the foot of the bed and fell backwards onto the soft mattress. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. C'mon Matthew. Get over it already.

"Where have you been?" Matthew's eyes popped open at the hushed voice and he turned his head to see that Guy was in the next bed. Even in the dim light, he could tell the young swordsman's eyes were puffy from sleep and his long hair was mussed and tangled. He also wore his usual expression of vague annoyance.

"Oh, did I wake you?" Matthew said softly, smiling sheepishly. "Just went to get a drink of water."

"Like hell you did," Guy mumbled into a yawn. "You're a pretty bad liar, for a spy."

Matthew's forehead wrinkled and he flopped back down on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, tracing the criss-crossing beams with his eyes. "Gimme a break. I'm tired, okay?"

There was a long silence, and for a while he thought that Guy had gone back to sleep. He was a little surprised to open his eyes to find his friend sitting up in bed, his dark eyes flashing in the moonlight. He ran a hand through his hair and regarded Matthew evenly.

The thief met his gaze for a moment, then scoffed and threw a pillow at him. "Stop staring like that. You're creeping me out." He rolled onto his side to face the wall, his face scrunched up in annoyance. It was late, even for him, and he was still a little disarmed by the lurking feeling of foreboding. He wanted to sleep, to dream... not to deal with little brother catching him out past curfew.

There was a rustling sound as Guy shifted positions on the bed. "Wow, you're touchy tonight. Did you think I was gonna tell on you?" he mocked lightly. "Don't worry. I just can't sleep. I was up before you came in. I can't deal with Sain's snoring." He threw Matthew's pillow half-heartedly across the room towards where the knight lay sprawled on his bed. It fell short about two-thirds of the way there and landed on the ground with a diminutive noise. He sighed. "I guess that's why I didn't grow up to be an archer."

Matthew ignored him, clenching his eyes shut and trying to think of boring things. Sheep drifted in and out of his mind and he found himself teetering on the edge of sleep when Guy started to talk again.

"Hey, where are you from originally?" There was another rustling noise as he pulled the blankets up around himself.

Matthew gritted his teeth, startled out of slumber by the sudden question. He tried to return to the fluffy soft world of the sheep, but they had all fled from his dreams, and his mind was now more or less alert. "Ostia," he mumbled resignedly.

"Is that how you came to be in Lord Hector's service?"

He sighed. "That's a long story."

"Can I hear it?"

"No, because then I'd have to kill you." He turned his head to see Guy looking at him with a startled expression. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the wall. "I was just kidding. It's really just far too exciting to be telling at this hour of night."

"Does it have anything to do with Leila?"

Matthew stiffened. "How do you... what do you know about that?" he said slowly, after a moment.

Guy laughed softly. "Relax. You say her name in your sleep sometimes."

He ran his hands over his face, then sat up and faced his friend, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, I guess it did have something to do with someone named Leila," he said softly.

Guy leaned back in his bed, grinning like a little kid about to hear a bedtime story. "So who is she? Your sweetheart?"

Matthew shook his head, then stifled a laugh. "Guy, you're... okay, yeah. I guess you could call her that." He looked down and toyed with the edge of his blanket, his mind drifting into memory. "I met her a long time ago. She lived in an old house that had all these secret passageways, and... we played hide-and-seek in it when we were kids. She was a lot better at it than me." He laughed sheepishly. "She's from a good family, so she was able to go to the court, but she couldn't stand the idea of just sitting around looking pretty all day. So when she was old enough, she enlisted to serve instead. Ohh, I remember how livid her dad was. He turned every color from here to the sun." He paused. "I left my family when I was pretty young, traveling and trying to make something of myself. Turned out I was skilled at the more... subtle arts. When I came back to Ostia, Leila was still working for the Marquess, so... I guess the rest is history." A heavy silence settled in the room as his mind wandered back to the present time.

After a long silence he spoke again. "I'm looking forward to seeing her again," he said, and smiled. The lurking bad feeling had fled from his heart and he was starting to feel like himself again. "You know, I'm glad I talked about that, Guy. Thanks for asking," he said, looking up.

The only response he got was a light snore from the blanketed heap that Guy had melted into. "Asleep..." Matthew said slowly, then shook his head. "Unbelievable. Just unbelievable." He chuckled under his breath, then curled up under the covers. This time, he had no trouble falling asleep.

* * *

[Guy's Dream]

It was dark. The room was very familiar, and even in the darkness he could move through it without thinking. He found the door and pushed it open, blinking in the bright sunlight that spilled in.

His eyes focused and he realized that he was back on the plains. The landscape was heavily saturated green and yellow and the sun was burning high in the sky. He felt hot in its glare and struggled to strip off his tunic. When he pulled it off, he realized that it was stained bright red with blood. He held the sullied garment in his hands awkwardly as people he might have known walked by him. They watched him, their features a mix of concern and disgust. He took a step back, frightened by the blood and the people. He felt very small.

Then he was in his house, his mother insistently taking his bloodstained tunic from his hands. She clucked and smiled jovially as she plunged it into a wooden tub of frothy water. "You're such a messy child," she said.

Guy just watched her, first confused, then embarrassed. He lowered his chin and mumbled, "Sorry, mom." The wash-water turned pink as she scrubbed at his tunic.

"Shame on you, making your mother work so hard all the time."

The rough voice was unmistakable. "Dad?" he said, turning. "Are you home already?"

There was a deep laugh and a large father-figure breezed by him, patting his shoulder and kissing his mother on the cheek. "Dad," Guy said again, then rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. The shapes of his parents grew dim and blurry. He blinked, trying to keep the vision intact, but soon enough it faded back to black, and he forgot that he had ever been there.

[Matthew's Dream]

It was dark. He found himself crouched in a very small space, only a pinprick of light coming through a thin crack between two doors. His hands rested on his knees and he was trying very hard to hold his breath in.

Outside of his tiny space there was a series of fast, light footsteps pacing back and forth around the room. He closed his eyes, shrinking into the shadows as much as possible. The footsteps grew closer and he heard a small laugh. "You wouldn't be so stupid as to hide in there, would you?"

The double doors were yanked open and a small, bright-eyed girl stood before him. "Aha!" she exclaimed, taking him by the arm and dragging him out of the cabinet. "Geez Matthew, you gotta be a little more creative than that. It's not even hard anymore."

He protested, struggling a little, and surprised at how small and sluggish his limbs felt. The girl pushed him up against the wall. "Okay, it's my turn now. Count all the way to fifty! No peeking!"

"But Leila," he said, in a high whiny voice. Then he sighed and faced the wall, covering his eyes with his arms. "Fine, fine. 1...2...3...456...789..." He heard her run out of the room and the stairway to the second floor creaked. Again he heard her footsteps, now above him. He opened his eyes and backed away from the wall slowly, careful not to make any noise. "39...40...41..." he counted under his breath, making his way up the stairs. When he arrived at the room he'd heard her in, he jumped through the doorway noisily. "50!"

Except for him, the room was quiet.

He took a step forward. "Leila?" He looked around, checking under the desk and in all of the cabinets. "Leila?" He checked behind an overstuffed lounge chair. "Aren't you mad that I cheated?"

There was no response.

Huh. I guess I was wrong about where she was. He backed out of the room, then ran down the hall, looking in the various bedrooms and calling out her name. He grew more frantic as he moved past countless doors, checked under countless beds. He tore open each closet and looked behind every piece of furniture. "Leila!" he cried out, now scared and panting from the exertion. A sick feeling rose in his stomach, and he knew that no matter where he ran, he was only getting farther away from her. He finally sank to the ground and hugged his knees tightly.

"Leila," he said, tears dripping down his face. "Please come out. This isn't funny..."

"Leila..."

"RAAAAWRRRRR!" Matthew started awake, jumping about three feet straight into the air. His heart skipped several beats and raced to catch up in the face of a giant roaring monster brandishing a sick-looking axe. He scrambled to sit up, a knife in each of his hands and poised to attack before his eyes focused and he realized who it was.

"Lord Hector," he said slowly, then shook his head and crumpled into a little heap on the bed. "Good god, man. If you weren't my commander you would be skinned and gutted by now."

Hector chuckled, the sound resonating deep in his belly. "Not bloody likely," he said cheerfully. "Now get up, sleepyhead. You missed breakfast, so get your stuff and get downstairs. We're leaving for the docks." With that he swung his axe over his shoulder and made his exit, whistling something happy under his breath.

Matthew rubbed his face with his hands. "Good morning to you too," he muttered. After a moment to recover and get his bearing, he crawled out of bed and got ready to go. Everyone else did seem to be downstairs, so he hurried and made his way to join them. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn't remember what it was.

"Oh well," he said to himself, shrugging it off. "It was probably nothing."

* * *

Captain Fargus's ship was barely ten minutes out the harbor when Guy started to feel seasick.

"Ohhh god," he said, his face turning pale. He hugged his stomach tightly and wobbled his way over to the hold, intending to spend the rest of the trip in the dark, with his eyes closed, and a blanket over his head. Matthew noticed him and intercepted him halfway.

"Hey, you don't look so good," he said, catching Guy by the arm. "Want me to get a healer?"

"I'm fine," the swordsman mumbled, half-heartedly pulling his arm away. "I just wanna get down... down into the hold." The ship took a particularly strong lurch and he let out a low moan.

"You don't look fine," said Matthew. "C'mon." He tugged at Guy's arm and waved to a white-robed figure that stood on a higher level of the ship. "Lucius, is that you?" he called out. "Can you help with something?"

The bishop nodded and made his way down the stairs to the lower deck. He took one look at Guy, who was moaning and leaning against Matthew, and let out a small noise of concern. "Guy, are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Guy said weakly.

"He's lying," Matthew said matter-of-factly.

Lucius leaned forward and looked into Guy's eyes carefully. "Hmm," he said after a minute. "I think I know what would help." He bent and rummaged through the small white bag that he carried. He produced an intricately carved staff with a small golden ball at the end of it. He held the staff in both hands out in front of him and murmured something under his breath. A warm yellow light came from the golden ball and wrapped itself around the three men. Matthew found himself resisting the urge to yawn.

After a moment the light faded and Lucius put the staff back in his bag. "So what did that do?" Matthew asked.

"Take a look for yourself."

The thief turned his head and found that Guy had slumped against him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was light and even. "You put him to sleep?"

Lucius smiled. "It'll wear off in a few hours. Until then, maybe you should take him downstairs and let him rest in the hold."

Matthew groaned. "I have to carry him down there?"

"Shall I get one of the bigger men to help?"

He squared his shoulders proudly. "That won't be necessary, thank you! I can carry this little shrimp, no problem."

"Ah, yes, indeed." Lucius gave him a slightly bemused smile, then bowed and made his way back up to the top deck.

Matthew sighed and took a look at his peacefully sleeping friend. "If you didn't owe me," he said under his breath, then grunted and bent to pick him up. "Those boons had better be worth it," he muttered, and slowly walked over to the stairs down into the hold. "Ugh, you're heavier than you look. What've you been eating anyway?"

The stairs proved to be something of a problem, but he managed to get down them by putting one arm around Guy's waist and walking him down one step at a time. A few of the others were resting or milling around in the hold, so they helped him get the sleeping swordsman into a bedroll that was laid out on the ground. When it was all done, Matthew was sweating and breathing heavily. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and sat down on the planks next to his friend.

He produced an apple from somewhere in his satchel and bit into it noisily. He was still munching on it when leather-booted feet appeared in front of him, accompanied by a soft voice.

"Is he alright?" the young lady asked tentatively.

Matthew looked up, then jumped to his feet. He smiled and gave a little half-bow. "Lady Priscilla! It's good to see you are well."

"Actually, I'm feeling a little seasick," she said, with a gentle laugh. "Same as your friend, there."

Matthew grinned sheepishly. "Ah, you heard about that, huh?"

She nodded. "Of course. Lucius told me. He asked me to-"

"Look after Guy?"

"Why, yes. How'd you know?"

"How indeed," he said, laughing. She gave him a puzzled look, then shook her head. Her hair just brushed her shoulders and caught the light when she moved. She really is lovely, Matthew thought, looking at her in surprise. Maybe she's grown up some since she first joined us.

"So," she said, kneeling on the ground beside Guy's sleeping form. "He does look better. His color is fine and he seems to be sleeping peacefully."

Matthew sat back down, resuming his late breakfast. "Will he suffer any ill effects from the sleep spell?"

Priscilla thought a moment, then shook her head. "He'll probably be a bit groggy, but other than that, no." She looked down at Guy, then reached out tentatively and brushed a loose strand of hair out of his face. Matthew raised a eyebrow but stifled his smile in his apple.

"Well," he said, chewing. "That's good to hear! I was worried that-" he started to say, but they were interrupted by a sudden terrible crunching noise. The impossibly loud sound of splintering wood met their ears, and someone further down the hold screamed.

"Serra!" Priscilla cried out, jumping up. "That was Serra! What's going on?" Her voice rose in fear and panic. Matthew's eyes narrowed.

"We've been hit," he growled. "There's water coming in at the other end." He turned towards Priscilla. "Get up top."

"But-"

"Do it!" he insisted, pushing her roughly towards the stairs, which were already swarming with Fargus's crew. "Just go," he said again, softer this time, and more pleading. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded and ran towards the stairs.

The cold seawater was already licking the toes of his boots, and Matthew quickly ducked down to get his friend up off the ground. "C'mon, Guy, wake up," he urged, holding the young man up with one arm around his waist. "Wake up, Guy!" He slowly progressed towards the stairs, where a hectic crowd had formed. Most of the pirate crew had collected around the breach and their voices echoed back and forth as they worked to repair the hull. Someone was yelling from the deck - it sounded like Eliwood - calling for reinforcements up top. Many of their mercenary team had gone up, with the exception of the strongest men, who stayed below to help the pirates.

When Matthew reached the stairs the water had swelled up to his ankles. Guy still showed no signs of waking, and the unmistakable sounds of battle drifted down from above them. He sat Guy down on the stair and shook him violently by the shoulders. "Guy, wake up already!" The swordsman moaned a little, but his eyes didn't open. Matthew looked around, then took a deep breath. "This will hurt me more than it hurts you," he said gruffly, then slapped his friend hard, right across the face.

Guy moaned again, and this time his eyes blinked open slowly. "Hey, what's the big idea-" he trailed off when he realized where they were. He paled. "We're still on the ship, aren't we."

"For the time being. Don't know if it'll last, though. Can you stand?"

Guy nodded and got to his feet slowly. "Oof," he said, holding a hand to his temple. "I feel like someone hit me over the head with a hammer."

"That's Lucius for you. You can bring it up with him later. But for now, I suggest we move and let the ship's crew do their duty here." He grabbed Guy's arm and half pulled, half dragged his friend up the stairs to the lower deck.

They were in a small sheltered area that seemed to be pretty well defended. Merlinus sat in the corner, trying to waterproof as much of his inventory as he could. The healers had set up a small station for the wounded, and a very familiar-looking girl sat against the wall, hugging her knees and shivering. Matthew stared at her, trying to place where he'd seen her before. When she turned to look at him, her bright red eyes brought it his memory back.

"Ninian?" he said in disbelief, releasing Guy and stepping forward. "Why... how did you get here?"

Her eyes remained blank and dispassionate as she stared back at him. She simply shook her head, and said nothing.

Guy leaned against a wall and took a deep breath. "Who is she?" he asked wearily. "What's wrong with her?"

Matthew turned his head. "She's... Her name is Ninian. I met her a long time ago, when I was traveling with Lady Lyndis." He approached the young girl. "Don't be scared," he said gently, when she shied away from him. "You remember me, right? It's Matthew! The handsome thief!"

Guy rolled his eyes. "Now you're really going to scare the poor girl."

Matthew ignored him. "Ninian, why are you here? Where is Nils?"

Her clouded ruby eyes looked up in dim recognition. "Nils..." she said weakly.

He shook his head, then backed away from her. "Hey Serra," he said, catching the young priestess by the arm.

"Hey, watch it!" she snapped, ripping her arm away. "I'm trying to work here!"

"What's wrong with Ninian?"

Serra looked down at the girl and tilted her head. "She's not hurt or anything. There's nothing we can do right now but keep her safe until she snaps out of it." She looked up. "It's weird that she's here, isn't it? Just floating on the ocean like that." She shrugged. "But for now I'm more worried about not ending up in a watery grave, so if you'll excuse me..." She turned and stomped off resolutely towards Merlinus.

Matthew sighed. "Just charming," he said, then turned back to Guy. "Well, it seems like I've missed just as much as you did."

There was a loud noise from up above, and they both heard Lord Hector yelling over the din. After a moment Eliwood yelled back, and the sounds of battle diminished somewhat. "I think it's ending," Guy said, still bracing himself against the wall. "Let's go up and help." He pushed himself back to his feet and took a few wobbly steps.

Matthew frowned. "You're staying right here," he said. "No arguing! If you go up there like this you'll just fall on your face and get an axe in the back. Besides," he added with a smirk. "I took the liberty of borrowing your sword."

Guy's eyes opened wide and he looked down at his belt. Sure enough, his scabbard had been detached from it's usual place. "Matthew, you little-"

"Oh, hush, you weren't using it anyway." He attached the sword to his own belt and tossed his short sword to Guy. "Hang on to this for me, would ya? I'm going up." With that, he climbed to the top level, ignoring the noisy protests of his friend.

Guy watched him go, then slumped against the wall and let himself slide to the floor. He held the short sword in his lap. "What am I supposed to do with this little thing?" he asked, looking it distastefully. "Carve up a turkey?"

He heard a triumphant shout from down in the hold, and the ship rocked back and forth to right itself, apparently no longer taking in water. "Oh god," he said, struggling to ignore the motion. He moaned softly and clutched at his stomach, rolling onto his side. Light footsteps approached him.

"Guy, you okay?"

"Serra?" he asked weakly. The priestess looked down at him and nodded. "Serra..." he said again.

"What's wrong?" She leaned closer. "Are you hurt?"

The ship lurched and he felt the blood drain from his face. "I think I'm gonna be sick-" he started to say, but he didn't get too far into it.

"Guy? Guy! Oh, gross! Man, why do I always get stuck doing the dirty work!"