Holy revisions, Batman. Just filled in a large plot-hole a few chapters back. But... nobody seemed to spot it, so I don't feel quite as stupid as I probably should... meh.

And this round's bonus points go to Relik for pegging the location of our stranded characters here. They are indeed at the Bottomless Pit. I chose that locale because if they'd landed anywhere else in Deep Sky... I doubt the altitude would have been survivable. So kudos to Relik!

And hey more cool news! Haley's Book just passed the 1500-hit mark! Thanks guys! °throws confetti°

And as always, many thanks to my Readers and Reviewers! You rock.

Chapter Thirty-Three...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Day Five.

No ships.

I think we're done. I think we're dead.

Done all we can, but we're just so tired. Mouth hurts, gums still bleeding.

No food, no water, nothing. Don't know days since last blood-drink.

We're too far west.

-

Feels like no more chances to say anything.

-

Greys still had the marking-stone. I asked it, he gave, and I scratched this on the large face of stone near where we lie waiting:

Here Lie Seven Souls
of the sardis-fishing vessel
Zephyrus
sunk by black pirates
83 Post Rains

Captain Francisco Peralta
beloved leader and master fisherman
and
Derek Haley
faithful friend and eloquent artisan

who were taken by cannon-fire

Dhalan and Shanda
of Naja
strong of hand and fair of voice
skilled musicians of Nasr
and
Timothy Porter
talented cook and kind confidant

who were taken by the darkness below

Samuel Greys
steadfast first mate
unwavering in the shadow

who brought us this far

and
Alexandro de los Reyes
scholar and log-keeper

who made this marker

I want Porter to be remembered as he used to be.

I didn't know what to put for myself. Greys suggested "scholar and log-keeper". He knows I don't think of myself as a real scholar. A would-be scholar maybe, Moons know I want to be one. But he said, "You're scholar enough in my eyes, Mr. Reyes."

When I scratched the last part it made me... sad. Made me wish I still had tears to cry. But I could only go back and lie down by Greys. I put my head down and he set a hand on my shoulder.

The gesture made me feel like everything was all right. No more miraculous survival, no escape this time. But it's all right. We did what we could. Nothing left to do. We made it to the top, and that is our victory.

And so it is. And here we are.

------------

Mr. Reyes has asked me if I have anything I want to say. I believe he is right in that there may be no more opportunities after this.

Having observed my hesitance, he has deduced my thoughts and has just instructed me that if I cannot think of what to write, then I should write that I cannot think of what to write.

I do have something that I would say. I suppose I am just having trouble saying it. I have never composed a will of my own. But I can think of one wish. If I should die and yet be found, it is my desire that my remains be taken to Valua. There is an island off the coast of the Pasaje del Oeste, near the Lesser Rift. On the island is a lighthouse, and a town called Torreón. There is a cemetery there, with a wide stone at the east end. One half of the stone reads Mayra Torres Greys. The other half is for myself.

My apologies, Mr. Reyes, but the rest is not for this book.

I am sorry fate brought us here, and that I could not do more to protect our crew. But you are right, we have done all we can. And having that in my mind is enough to ease my regrets. Thank you Mr. Reyes. You have been a fine hireling, and it has been a privilege to know you.

Moons light your way.

Samuel Greys

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I will not press him for it.

-

Chalking and scratching on stone has wearied me. I am going to sleep now. Very tired. This book shall go in my rucksack, and I will shelter with it in my blanket.

If I do not wake up again, then farewell.

If my remains are found, please take my things to my family on Naranja.

-

And there is nothing else to write.

-

I love you, dear family.

Alexandro Estevan de los Reyes