Year 11, Day 26 / Depths

"As in the mamono realm, you'll have to supply your partners with a steady stream of spiritual energy. The demonic seas are no different, especially when aboard ships that have not been purified. Mister Charles, please escort the men below decks for a renewal of their enchantments. Miss Leonard, please show the women to their assigned berths."

As one of the ship's officers addressed the formation of soldiers before them, Garret let out a weary sigh. Mumbling a half-rhetorical question to the grey wood of the deck, he sighed.

"... Why the fuck are we using corrupted ships?"

Beside him, Admiral Harriet was kind enough to supply the answer.

"Camouflage, Captain. In the open ocean, a purified ship shines like a beacon for all seaborne mamono to see. We'd be fending off boarding attempts every minute if our navy were so conspicuous."

The explanation made sense, but didn't improve his mood... the situation just brought back memories of Annika and their passionate times together on crusade, neither of which were good for morale.

"I see..."

Without his school onboard, Garret had precious little to do as the rest of the ship's crew was organized by their respective officers. For a time, he busied himself volunteering, offering assistance where possible, but eventually the work he could do ran out, and that left him with an abundance of free time. Having no other obligations, he set out to explore the ship.

Though their previous (dim, purple, and magical) torches had been replaced with the much brighter, mundane ones, common throughout The Order, the cramped corridors below deck maintained the oppressive atmosphere one would expect of a mamono slave vessel. Even with the improved lighting, menacing shadows were still cast from the support beams and bulkhead frames, and the holes in the walls, where chains and cages had previously been mounted, were still disconcerting, even if their fixtures had long-since been removed. The only thing stopping the vessel from totally unnerving Garret and eliminating any hope of a reasonable night's sleep, was the constant presence of Arthourian sailors and marines, tramping through the halls. Things could not remain eerie for long, when you were surrounded by this many friendly faces.

Seeking out his own quarters, Garret was pleased to find that, as an officer, he was afforded his own room. Though its furnishings, spartan, and bed, far less comfortable than what he would find on shore, it was miles above what the common crew had. They were limited to simple hammocks and lockers in a giant, communal hall - a hall that, on account of the side-effects of the soldier's enchantment renewals, would likely become much louder than it already was. Garret made sure to vacate the area as the first, passionate couples began to arrive, to give them privacy and spare himself the awkwardness.

Another noise beaconed Garret deeper into the bowels of the ship. Passing a tiny, make-shift chapel, where priests were repeating prayers of safety and devotion, a different, more interesting, form of oration drew him along. In the ship's lowest hold, Garret pushed through a door to find a circle of mages taking shifts as they chanted. Curious, blue ripples of magic emanated from them, sinking through the hull of the ship and, presumably, into the water below.

"Tideshaper Mages."

One of the four guards, each posted at a corner of the room, sensed Garret's coming question and answered it before he asked.

"They calm the waters around the ship, allowing us to sail at speed without worrying about rogue waves... or mamono latching on. Their magic repulses them as well."

"And you're here to guard them in case we're boarded?"

The man shook his head and gave an answer that caused Garrett's eyes to widen.

"In case something breaks through the hull. Their magic is the most noticeable part of the ship."

"Does that happen often?"

"Often enough to warrant us being here. Seaborn mamono are strong. If they want, splintering hull beams is well within their abilities. Our mages will be able to stop the flooding and repair the damage... but not at the same time as fighting off monsters."

That was a… disconcerting thought...

"Well I hope it doesn't come to that."

His statement caused the guard to laugh.

"You and me both, mate."

The explanation, received, and terror of the depths, noted, Garret thanked the soldier and headed back to the deck, lest he continue disturbing the mages' work. The navy certainly had more to think about when sailing than he'd ever considered. Imagining the scene of a mamono bursting through the hull, Garret shuddered. Not only was the thought of something unseen attacking them from the deep, disquieting, the added complication of taking on sea water unnerved him further. As someone from the North, where the glacier-fed streams and rivers were cold enough to threaten hypothermia, even during the summer months, Garret didn't know how to swim.

"Why, Garret?!"

Standing in the knee-high blood that flooded the streets of Seigfried's landing, a confused, and terrified Loria latched onto him, frantically repeating her question.

"I didn't do anything wrong! Why did they kill us?!"

Garret stiffened as the bolts embedded in her chest jabbed at him, painfully.

"That's Garret for you. You're just a monster in the end, he'll kill you all the same, even if you were his friend."

Perched atop a mound of harpy corpses, Ilona picked at a few strands of her scorched hair, before disinterestedly flicking them away.

"At least you're consistent."

That accusation, though it stung, he could at least protest. Glaring at the mamono who tormented him, Garret defended himself.

"I didn't kill her. That other officer and his men did."

Behind him, a frustrated sigh came from his late partner as the wyvern stepped through the crowd of soldiers. Their armour and weapons, twisted into crueler, more menacing versions of their true selves, sent a shiver down Garret's spine when he looked at them. Every inch of them just oozed pain, suffering, and sadism.

"Damn it, Garret. You can be so,... so stupid sometimes, you know? You had two things you coulda' done. One would have saved her, the other would have let her die. You chose to stand there and do nothing. You chose the path that led to her death. You could have stopped that, but you didn't. You're just as bad as the soldiers with the crossbows."

Whirling to face her, he loudly countered her point.

"That's bullshit, and you know it! Inaction isn't murder!"

"Isn't it? If someone let their baby starve to death, and said they just 'let it die', The Order would find them guilty of murder all the same. People would still say they killed their child. What makes this any different?"

"That's-"

His protestations were cut short by Loria, who looked up at him, horrified.

"Y-You could have saved me?"

Her words caused Garret to freeze. How was he supposed to answer that? Even if he had acted, their escape would be far from guaranteed… but at least then, he would have done something. He hid his face, feelings of shame preventing him from looking at the harpy who clung to him.

"... I don't know..."

"Why didn't you try?! I-I thought we were friends! I didn't do anything to hurt you!"

"I know..."

"Then... Then why?"

Loria gazed up at him with pleading eyes, begging for an answer, but before he could give one, she tumbled to the truth on her own. Garret stumbled, falling backwards into the blood as she shoved him away. Ripples in the crimson emanated from where her teardrops fell as her shoulders slumped and she hung her head, sobbing.

"It's because I'm a monster to you, isn't it? ... Just another monster..."

No, that was-!

"A monster! A monster! Just another monster!"

The soldiers chanted with warped voices as they robotically marched forward, past a horrified Garret, and went about executing the apparitions of the slain bird, spider, and wyvern. Yet more crimson painted the morbid scene as they made wide swings with their blood-coated weapons. Through this, all Garret could do was watch, frozen. The gruesome spectacle of yet more bodies being added to the mounds stacked around him made his stomach churn, but the worst part was the core of truth confronting him - Loria being a monster had been the reason he'd hesitated.

A cold sweat drenched Garret as he woke up, heart pounding. Immediately rolling out of bed, he began pacing his room, trying to calm down. When that didn't work, he headed above deck, hoping the sea breeze and a change of scenery would do what his movements could not.

... Damn it.

Though the waters were choppy, Garret barely felt the waves. The tideshaper mages working their magic in the bowels of the ship were certainly doing a good job, because the only indication they were at sea was the ocean spray, which splashed up to coat the deck from time to time. Indeed, their voyage had been exceptionally smooth, allowing even one without sea legs to walk about with ease.

Greeting the night watch as he passed them, Garret began to make circuits around the ship, taking deep breaths as he tried to push his recurring nightmares from his mind. When he finally, finally managed to attain some semblance of calm, he walked over to the railing of an isolated part of the ship and leaned against it, gazing out towards the ocean. In that suffocating, moonless night, the darkness seemed to cling to the ship, enveloping it. Doubtless, navigation would have been near impossible if one could not locate the northern star. Cracking a wry grin, Garret made the cynical observation that the ambiance was a perfect match for his current mood.

A sudden burst of light from behind indicated that the quiet of the night was not fated to last.

"You weren't scheduled for tonight's watch, Captain. You should try to get some rest."

Brynhild… Not wanting to be drawn into an extended conversation with her, Garret made a curt reply.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Then you should speak with a priest. They have spells that can help with that."

Indeed they did… but requesting them would bring more questions, the last thing he wanted was an in depth inquiry into why he was having trouble sleeping…

"Thank you for the advice, ma'am, but I'll be fine. Operated on less sleep for longer missions before."

Not wishing to continue the conversation any longer, Garret turned to leave, intending to head back below deck when an uncharacteristically soft voice addressed him one last time.

"No, Captain, you're not 'fine'."

Another flash, and the valkyrie disappeared, then reappeared, intercepting him. This time, though, her expression was different - gone was the usual, cold professionalism. Instead, Brynhild looked about as close to 'sympathetic' as Garret had ever seen her get.

"Garret? Will you be able to carry on?"

This sudden empathy left him taken aback. Since when did Brynhild act like this? The confusion led to him pausing, perhaps a bit longer than he should have, before he replied.

"... I... I think so."

As expected, the holy woman did not look convinced, and she pleaded with him one last time.

"I pray you're right... Please, at least talk with the priests. Not a single one has mentioned you coming to them in... well over five years. There's no shame in seeking their counsel."

She glanced out to the sea, letting her words stand for a moment, before bidding him farewell. With a flash of light, she was gone, leaving Garret alone to ponder his thoughts.

Day 27

Despite her encouragement, Garret held the same course he had, ever since his partner… ever since he'd struck out on his own. He didn't need priests, he told himself. He didn't need anyone. He could handle this himself. Though he had previously given the same advice to others as Brynhild gave to him, he disregarded it.

He didn't need the embarrassment of speaking out (though he knew there was nothing to be afraid of).

He didn't need to cast a burden onto people unrelated to him (though he knew helping soldiers heal mentally as well as physically was part of a priest's duties).

He told himself it was better this way - that he was doing something good, keeping it all in.

… But maybe that was just a lie to avoid having to change anything. Maybe it was just that it was easier - more comfortable to stew in the misery.

In contrast to his trauma, Brynhild's unexpected sadness and sympathy, and Lukas' strained-but-professional mood, a certain naval officer was in much higher spirits. On another sleepless night, Garret bumped into Admiral Harriet while wandering the ship. Looking deep into the night sky with her spyglass, a rare smile graced her usually stiff appearance.

"See something, Ma'am?"

Without ceasing her observation, she responded in the affirmative, then beaconed him over.

"Yes. Come take a look, Captain."

When Garret did, she pressed the telescope into his hand, then pointed towards the sky.

"See that line of stars? That's 'Orin's Baldric'. Follow it down. When you reach the third star, look to the left. There should be a much brighter one, there."

Guiding him, verbally, the admiral helped him walk the spyglass onto… whatever it was she wanted to show him. As Garret peered through the lens, he eventually landed on the target.

"... I see a dot… A dot, moving across the star."

With an approving nod, Harriet explained the significance of what he was seeing.

"That's Artus - a small planet, traversing the star. It only crosses once every twenty years - magnificent, isn't it?"

Noting her composed enthusiasm, Garret tried to play along, but… It was a dot in front of another dot. Not exactly something he found riveting. Handing the spyglass back to her, he tried to shift the topic.

"It's interesting. You know a lot about astronomy, Ma'am?"

Admiral Harriet nodded again, her slight smile returning as she took back the spyglass and, once more, raised it to peer through the sight.

"I do. And indeed, so do all officers of The Consecrated Navy - In the dark, the stars are our map, our guidance. We could not sail at night without them."

"And this… traversal has some significance to that?"

Her smile twisted into a grin as she laughed.

"No… No, it is simply something I find interesting. I suppose I have taken too fondly to the hobby of astronomy."

"Well, there are worse hobbies. If you knew enough, you could probably decypher the prophecies written in the stars."

Thinking back to his life in Northreach, Garret recalled the variation in blessings and life predictions their priests would give newborns, depending on which star they were born under. The news sheets, pinned to tavern walls, were another indication of the populous' interest in the topic. They almost always included some monthly wisdom, personalized for which sign you were, though it had been long since Garret had looked into it himself. He could scarce recall which constellation he 'belonged' to, much less what it signified… Was it a goat? Or maybe a bull? Harriet's words interrupted his reminiscing.

"Indeed… but I place no stock in those. The stars are fine guides, but prophets, they are not."

"Oh? You don't-"

She pursed her lips and interrupted his query.

"No. The cycles of the stars haven't changed in my life, nor my mother's, nor her mother's before her. What would that imply? Children born under a certain star would be given the same 'prophecy' as those a generation prior. It would mean everything would stay the same, generation after generation… and I don't like the idea of our fates being preordained. What would be the point in fighting, then?"

Garret didn't have an answer for that… Instead, he uttered a useless platitude he couldn't agree with himself. It seemed the admiral was of similar mind, because once he spoke, a scowl made itself visible on her face.

"Maybe it'd be about the process, not the outcome?"

"If that were the case, the process is quite unsatisfying."

Day 33

Garret wished he could say the voyage went smoothly… but while the it did for the convoy, even after their quartet of ships split off from the main group to chart their secret course, the boredom of having nothing but sea to see crept up on Garret… and an unoccupied mind was quick to wander back to unpleasant thoughts. His bloodshot eyes told of the effect this had on his sleep. Mercifully, there were occasional bouts of interest, though, when the ships would pass by an island, coastal city, or unusual landmark, jutting from the ocean.

This evening was one such example - tall spires of rock rose from the surf, pointing skywards. The Crown of Thorns, a poetically named area they were sailing through, made for as interesting scenery as it did treacherous sailing. Their ships had to break the usual rules of light discipline, igniting lanterns and using mirrors to illuminate the path ahead, to avoid wrecking themselves upon the menacing rocks.

"These spires unnerve me…"

"And indeed they should. Monsters have been known to nest amongst them. We'll need to be vigilant for attacks from above."

On watch that particular night, Garret voiced his unease to the astronomer-admiral beside him. She, despite not being on duty, had decided to appear all the same, and observe the stars.

"And there's no better path we could have taken?"

"No. Other routes would either be more dangerous or out of range of our supplies."

Barely looking away from her spyglass, tricorn tucked under her arm, Harriet gave her reply, then moved on, leaving Garret to continue his duties.

Up, down, left, right… trying to avoid looking at the lanterns to preserve his night vision, Garret's eyes flicked between the stone columns, searching for cave entrances or hiding places for monsters to stage their ambush… and he did not like what he found. While caves were rare and, usually, small, the jagged rock of the formations created thousands of potential hiding places for single monsters.

"I'll be happy once we get out of here", he muttered to no one in particular. A muffled 'bump', and rocking of the boat was what were returned as answers.

"Wha-"

"What the hell was that?! Sentries! What do you see?"

For something as minor-seeming as a 'bump', the admiral's reaction almost seemed overacted… but Garret knew better. He'd been told better. Both from the sailors and the admiral herself, he'd heard of how a boat's motions could tell you more than any would expect of upcoming dangers or events - and if they hadn't run aground, a bump meant that something had hit their hull.

"Nothing, Ma'am!"

"Not a thing!"

"Hold on, I think I see a-uaAAAHH!"

From around the ship, Garret and the other guards called out their reports - unimportant, aside from that of the last, unfortunate sailor. As he leaned over the rail at the side of the ship, to peer at something in the water, a tentacle reached up and, with lightning speed, grabbed the man and pulled him over.

"Man overboard!"

"Alert! We're under attack!"

"Monsters!"

More cries from the crew of the ship, as watchmen scrambled away from the gunnels and drew their weapons. Following them came oozing tentacles and snapping claws from the dozens of aquatic mamono who began to ascend the sides of the boat. Climbing its hull with ease, the attackers pulled themselves onto the main deck - Nereids and Cancer, mostly, but from the splashing he heard, Garret surmised that other, more fish-like, mamono lay in the water, waiting for a future 'husband' to be tossed to them.

A flash of fire and a deafening crack, this time not belonging to Garret, came from Admiral Harriet. Still holding her spyglass in one hand, she'd drawn a pepperbox-pistol and unleashed a pair of shots towards the monster threatening one of her unprepared sailors.

"Step lively, men, a defensive formation, if you please! Mr. Carlson, send up a flare. Mr. Arrow, wake the soldiers, this little ambush of theirs shant stop us!"

Immediately grasping the situation, Harriet began calling out orders, then tucked away her spyglass, donned her cap, and strode to a weapon rack. There, she retrieved a much-longer, pepperbox-rifle that was, thankfully, already loaded. Rushing to her side, Garret and the other sailors positioned themselves in a rough, box shape, as the two other officers scrambled to fulfill her orders. While Carlson prepared to launch his flare, Garret felt a chill run through him as he spotted similar explosions of skyward red-fire, coming from the vessels around them. Everyone was under attack, and no help would be coming. It was just their ship, their weapons against however many mamono lay beneath the waves.

Sweat dripped from Garret's brow as he thrust forward with his sword, the nature of their enemy discouraging his use of magic. A clatter of metal against chitin sounded as the claw of the cancer he was dueling swatted his blade away. With a practiced motion, now-honed through a decade of experience, he pulled back, maintained control, and made another attack. By not overextending, his discipline forced the mamono to devote her full attention to him. That shift in focus allowed the sailor on the deck, knocked over by her and about to become fish-food, to scrabble away, rise to his feet, and rejoin the defense. With a quick nod of thanks to his timely savior, the man pressed his own attack, and together, they drove the mamono back.

Not for the first time, Garret muttered a word of thanks to his far-away friend - had Eric not set him down the path of training for sword as well as spell, he'd have been a liability in this fight, rather than saving someone. At least they weren't entirely without magic. By chance, one of the guards for the night had been an electric mage, and her bolts of lightning, devastating against aquatic monsters, proved to be a significant reason for their small group still standing a chance.

Despite the initial success of their defense, the ebb and flow of combat was ever present. A surge of monsters, a minute later, turned the tide of battle against them. When more mamono joined the fight and threatened to overwhelm him, Garret found himself frantically backpedaling. As he ducked under a swiping claw, a slithering tentacle, thick with mucus, wrapped around his ankle and pulled, sending him crashing to the rough wood of the deck.

A Scylla, hiding behind her Nereid and Cancer comrades, grinned widely, her joy at having caught a future husband, readily apparent. Being dragged out of formation and through a crowd of monsters, Garret had to roll from side to side as he desperately tried to avoid being trampled. Swinging his sword arm, he slashed at the tentacle, only to have his wrist grabbed by another. Then it was too late - he arrived at her 'feet', and her appendages began to lift him into the Scylla's embrace. At the last moment, Garret thrust his free hand forward, and with a roar, shot a crackling spear of fire towards her heart.

Muscles weakened and Garret gasped as the energy was sucked out of him. With all his might, he fought against what had forced him to limit his spells - a thin sheen of water that covered each aquatic monster. Though it was barely noticeable, against fire magic, it was as a breastplate to a sword. His spell halted and flickered, threatening to be extinguished, until he poured such an overwhelming amount of energy into it, that it pierced the aqueous barrier and exploded within his quarry.

Freed, as the slackening tentacles released him, Garret grunted, groaned, and rolled over, pressing his hands against the worn wood of the deck. Woozy from the overexertion, he shuddered as he pushed himself to his feet… and realized he was still screwed. Sure, he'd escaped one monster, but now he was isolated from the formation and surrounded by a sea of other mamono - mamono who, alerted by the fiery explosion, were turning towards him.

Shit.

A nereid thrust her golden trident at him, another scylla, sensing an opportunity, reached out with her tentacles, a cancer, scuttling towards him, raised a claw to strike, and Garret… Garret did his best. Forcing his body to move, he twisted away from the scylla. The nereid's spear came and, continuing his momentum, Garret parried it with his sword. She followed it up with another thrust, forcing him back, but he managed to continue his desperate defense. Snaking tentacles tried to grab his ankle again, but this time, Garret managed to step over them. With a quick hop, he sprung out of reach, and turned to face the next, oncoming foe.

That was where his luck ran out.

Fatigue he had not yet recovered from, split attention between multiple monsters, and suboptimal positioning all worked together to ensure he was unprepared for the crab-monster's attack. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the descending claw, and with no time or energy to dodge again, he raised his sword to block the blow - a move that proved entirely futile. With her unholy strength, the cancer's claw plowed straight through his defense, knocking his arm back and delivering a stunning blow to his head. Garret's vision flashed with pulsing colours and stars danced before his eyes as the strike returned him to the deck with a painful crash.

Mercifully, he managed to stay conscious, but when Garret's sight returned, he was greeted by the disheartening view of the crab-woman crawling overtop of him. As she reached down with her pincers to scoop him up, he mentally cursed the fruitlessness of his actions. He'd just traded one monster for another, and his efforts had been in vain… or so he thought, until the flash of light.

Events repeated themselves as Garret found himself blinded once more, then dragged across the deck again. A brilliant blast of golden magic carved a path into the monster horde, and through that gap, strode a valkyrie. With divine strength, Brynhild reached down, grabbed him by his cloak, and effortlessly hauled him to safety while, from below decks, the tramp of leather boots signaled the welcome arrival of reinforcements. A door burst open and the desperate formation found themselves joined by dozens of Artorian marines, finally armed and ready.

"Sorry we took so long."

As the red-coated soldiers rushed to the line, kneeling to fire volleys from their own rifles or thrust forward with bayonets, Lukas greeted Admiral Harriet. Between cracks of gunfire, she nodded, then shouted her response over the roar of combat.

"What matters is that you're here, now. Kindly assist us in repelling these beasts, I shan't have my ship defiled by them any longer!"

Throughout this, Garret lay where Brynhild had dropped him, frozen. Though his salvation and the arrival of allies should have brought him elation, instead, ice froze his heart.

"Captain? Are you injured?"

Seeing he still hadn't moved, Brynhild delayed her return to combat to check on him. An opaque bubble of silence enveloped them and, shielded from prying eyes or listening ears, she crouched down to provide some uncharacteristically tender words of encouragement.

"Come on, Garret, get up. You can do this, you're going to be alright."

The valkyrie reached out a hand, to help him up, but he didn't take it. Through the turmoil of combat and fog of war, he'd noticed something - and the horror of that discovery rooted him to the spot. When the cancer was slain, disintegrated by Brynhild's magic, something had been left behind. Something that Garret had seen before. Something that now coated him.

A fine.

White.

Ash.

"Brynhild… You…"

The hand, once offering assistance, now, no longer 'asked'. It grabbed him by the collar and pulled, first lifting him to his feet, then, off the ground. Having sensed his emotions and pieced together his realization, Brynhild's face twisted from sympathy to a fierce expression. Holding him at arms length, feet dangling in the air, she roared a command.

"ON YOUR FEET, CAPTAIN! GET MOVING AND DO YOUR JOB!"

The harshness of her treatment broke Garret out of his frozen state, and when she dropped him, he managed to keep himself standing. He… She… Brynhild's glare shifted back to the monsters, and she pointed towards the horde. Gunfire's sharp retorts and the clashing of blades filled Garret's ears as her bubble disappeared and the sounds of combat rushed back to him. Though he wanted to confront her, the gravity of the situation made that impossible… burying his feelings as best he was able, Garret steeled himself and unhappily willed himself onward. Now was not the time. He needed answers, but those would have to come after they'd driven off their attackers.

"They're pulling back! Forward! Press the attack!"

"Well done, lads! We've got'em on the run!"

As the last of the monsters disappeared over the side of the ship, cheers sounded from the exhausted soldiers and sailors. With the arrival of the marines and the overwhelming power of their hero and valkyrie, it didn't take long for the tide to turn and the mamono to be forced into a hasty retreat.

"Excellent work, gentlemen. Mr. Carlson, if you'd please, signal the other ships."

Removing her tricorn to wipe the sweat from her brow, Admiral Hariet congratulated her men. The immediate threat dealt with, soldiers began tending to their weapons, reloading their expended rifles, and checking the ship for damage or mamono stragglers. An emerald light illuminated the deck as Carlson fired a green flare skyward, its colourful burst communicating their success.

"Are attacks like this common at sea?"

Admiral Harriet pursed her lips as she looked out, over the water, answering Lukas' question with a dissatisfied tone.

"No… I'd much like to know how such a large cohort found us."

Another brilliant, green light shone down on them, its cheerful colour contrasting the admiral's irritation, The ship in front of them had just sent up its own flare.

"At least we've driven them off."

"... Not yet…"

Brynhild's comment attracted everyone's gaze, and she pointed out over the water.

"Our fourth ship."

Eyes followed what she was pointing at, but the importance turned out not to be what she indicated, but rather the lack of something. Where the fourth and final ship in their formation should have been, instead, lay only inky blackness. From far in the distance, an unnerving dirge sounded, chilling all who heard it.

"What happened… ?"

"Sentries!?"

Harriet shouted for a report, but before anyone could answer, another dirge sounded.

"I don't like this…"

Disquieted marines finished loading their weapons and, without being ordered, nervously stepped back into a defensive formation, shaking weapons held at the ready as they waited in anticipation for whatever was about to happen.

A third dirge sounded, but rather than diminishing, this one's intensity increased over time. As the terror-inducing note reached its crescendo, the source of the noise revealed itself. Bursting from the ocean with gueysers of water, enormous, purple tentacles emerged and wrapped themselves around the lead ship. Off its bow, the towering form of a beautiful woman rose, large as a small castle, and glowing with a purple aura. Her overwhelming presence gave pause to everyone, and a heavily accented marine, voice shaking, commented on the situation.

"Th…that's a big lass…"

Garret was inclined to agree. How the hell were they supposed to fight that? Perhaps the only one not awed by the sight of the oversized kraken was Admiral Harriet. Where even Lukas stood, mouth agape, she grasped and took charge of the situation.

"Hard to starboard, bring forth the cannons! Mr. Arrow, rally the gunnery crews, I want calamari on tonight's menu! ... NOW!"

Her fierce voice stirred her crew to action, sending soldiers and sailors scurrying about. Additional commands from the ship's petty officers added to the commotion, being called and carried out with all possible haste. When none of her subordinates were near enough to overhear, Lukas, glancing between Harriet and the monster, asked about the situation.

"Have you ever fought a Kraken this large before?"

"There's a first time for everything."

As she peered through her spyglass, waiting for the ship to align, Garret could have sworn he saw the admiral smile. Indeed, once they had finally shifted enough for their cannons to come into range, she sprouted a truly wolfish grin, shouting a no-doubt long-anticipated command.

"All batteries... FIRE!"

The deck shuddered from the concussive force of two dozen explosions, and gouts of fire reflected off the waves to their port-bow. The officers of the other, free ship in their fleet had similar ideas, and half-mile away, similar claps of thunderous gunfire roared across the ocean as their sister-ship made its own volley.

"That won't be enough..."

The impressive spectacle of a rain of cannon-shot descending, then exploding against the titanic monster's form was dampened by Brynhild's quiet remark. Indeed, as the smoke cleared, nary a scratch could be seen on the monster's form.

Light shone across the deck as Lukas decided to add his own, divine magic to the assault. At his command, his sword flashed with the light of the heavens, its brilliant blade seemingly growing to the size of a small tree. The air crackled with energy as he rose into the air, flying just high enough to clear the ship, before swinging his oversized blade in an overhand arc. The magic enveloping it rushed forward, coalescing into a crescent-shaped shockwave that raced, unerringly, towards its target. It's impact was much more spectacular... but equally as effective.

The monster spotted the incoming projectile and raised her tentacles to block it. When the arc touched her glowing, purple aura, sparks flew, a deafening, grinding-shriek emanated, and crackling bolts of purple lighting - unfathomably powerful, magical feedback - sprouted from the point of contact. For a dozen seconds, the two magics fought each other, but eventually, with the sound of shattering glass, Lukas' crescent failed and broke into dozens of rapidly-disintegrating shards of magic. The kraken, for her part, slumped, temporarily exhausted... but when she rallied herself, her lustful, confident expression had been replaced by one of sheer rage. With a cry, she raised the ship she clung to, out of the water, and broke it in half with a mighty snap. A second later, her gaze shifted and, glaring at the next ship in formation, she disappeared, diving under the waves.

"What is she... ?"

As Lukas lighted upon the deck, sweat dripping from his brow as his own exertion made itself known, Brynhild answered his question. Looking forlornly out, over the waves, she muttered a quiet reply.

"No ordinary kraken. The aura that wards her is divine... but not from our Goddess. This one has been personally blessed by Poseidon, becoming her avatar."

"An avatar of another God!?"

Where Garret froze, incredulous, Harriet kept her composure and immediately got down to business.

"It doesn't matter what she is, how do we go about killing her?"

"I-I..."

Brynhild hesitated for a moment, almost sounding unsure of herself, but a second later, a switch flipped and her demeanor suddenly shifted. Gone was the sorrowful timbre to her words, her despondent expression, likewise replaced, by a voice and stature that spoke of absolute confidence and conviction.

"With mortal weapons, such a deed is impossible. You'll have to fight her yourself, Lukas, Goddess-blessed against Goddess-blessed."

Brynhild glanced over her shoulder towards the other boat, just in time for everyone's attention to be drawn to it as well. With another loud dirge and explosion of water, the Kraken reemerged, tentacles wrapping the ship.

"Again! Fire!"

Disregarding Brynhild's statement, Harriet shouted another command, her crew's acknowledgement of the order, evidenced by another cascade of ear-splitting thunder and volley of cannonballs. Like before, though, the shells exploded harmlessly against the sea monster's skin.

"... And you'll need to get in close. Close enough to reach her heart. I doubt you'll have the energy to exhaust her aura with magic. You'll have to pierce it with your sword."

"I..."

Still breathing heavily, Lukas mustered a halting response as best he could. Looking to their exhausted hero, an uneasy feeling took hold of Garret's gut. Pale, white skin, sweat and shortness of breath, muscle tremors and sluggishness... The man was displaying all the symptoms of magical overexertion that Garret had become far too familiar with, himself. He was in no shape to fight ordinary monsters, much less something like that.

"I don't have the energy for that, Brynhild. I used... most of it on my last attack."

And 'divine energy was a gift given once.'. Even if he could physically recover, if he didn't have the power, it would be for nothing. Hearing this, Brynhild paused, eyes flicking between the humans standing before her. When she replied, it came with slow, deliberate words.

"I know you don't... but I do. A valkyrie's body is made of divine energy. If you've exhausted yours,... then use mine."

Hearing this, her partner's eyes widened.

"But then you'll-"

Brynhild nodded.

"I will 'die'. But you… will receive all the power you'll need."

That statement caused everyone to freeze, unsure of what to do. Noone had expected this turn of events. Even Brynhild, though still confident and self-assured, didn't break the silence until the sound of splintering wood from the other ship informed them their time was up. Its hull, unable to bear the stress of the constricting tentacles, splintered, and soon began to break apart. Quickly glancing at it, then back to Lukas, Brynhild spoke again.

"It's time to act. Have faith in yourself, Lukas, your whole life has been leading up to this moment."

The valkyrie spoke a deafening word of magic, unrecognizable to the humans that surrounded her, and with the punctuation of her statement, began to shimmer. Slowly, from her feet upwards, her form began to dematerialize, transformed into motes of light that flew forward, into Lukas.

"Brynhild, I..."

It seemed even a hero had trouble knowing what to say at a time like this. As the disintegration reached her knees, though, she responded to his unanswered statement, seemingly sensing his emotions.

"If our Goddess wills it, we'll see each other again! If not, then I shall tell her what you've become. You've done well so far, Lukas! Do not falter now!"

Though her voice was strong, for a split second, Brynhild's lip quivered, and eye twitched, betraying the turmoil beneath her unworried facade.

"R-Right. I won't let you down!"

"Good."

The shimmer had reached her hips now, and though she stared 'death' in the face with seemingly unworried confidence, Brynhild's pupils flicked rapidly between the people around her. A tremor ran through her frame as it approached her chest, turning into a noticeable shudder as her fingertips began to glow. When light-specs began to break off of her arms, the process seemed to accelerate. With only seconds left, she finally spoke again. This time, her confident voice cracked.

"L-Lukas, I-!"

Suddenly 'stepping' forward, she threw her arms around him, squeezing her eyes shut. Though still stunned, mercifully, Lukas had the presence of mind to return her embrace, just in time.

"I love you, Brynhild."

She nodded into his shoulder, a tear dripping from her eye... and then she was gone. A second later, the last of her body broke apart and was absorbed into him. Lukas shivered as he took a ragged breath, trying to steel himself. No doubt he was experiencing his own surge of emotions, but seeing the end of one half of a partnership left Garret likewise affected. Roiling, unpleasant memories flooded his mind. At least the valkyrie's death had been for something greater, not because... because... Garret twisted away, hiding his face. Even ten years later, his emotional wounds still pained him as if he had lost her yesterday...

That horrible, terrifying dirge sounded again. While Garret was distracted, the kraken had finished with the third ship and disappeared back under the sea. With only one vessel left afloat, her destination was obvious.

"I think... I think this is the end of the road for me, too."

Having steadied himself, Lukas spoke up, drawing Garret's attention back to him. Though his divine energy had been replenished, his more human, physical abilities remained exhausted. Remembering how destroying the arachnae's mountain during their first crusade had left the man, Garret doubted his body could take the stress of another surge of heavenly power in such quick succession. Lukas seemed to be in agreement.

"I don't think I can take another attack... Garret? Admiral? I-if I don't make it... You'll get this done. ... Right?"

There was no way they could promise that... but there was no other option. And they were out of time. Reassuring their hero the best they could, both Harriet and Garret responded with an affirmation, as purple tentacles, thicker than trees, surged forth to entrap their ship.

"Of course we will."

"We'll do our best."

When the titanic monster's main body began to emerge from the water, Lukas inhaled a shakey, deep breath, glanced at his comrades one final time, and took a quivering step forward. Then another. On the third, he got his stride and, as the kraken's appendages fully wrapped the hull, launched himself into the air with a blast of magic. Screaming and channeling every bit of remaining strength, their hero shot forward like a comet, his now-blazing sword leaving a shimmering trail of energy as he went. Just as the monstrous woman's torso began to rise, Lukas slammed into her. Before she could fully right herself, he barreled into her chest, and the resulting explosion of demon and divine energy blinded all onlookers.

A thunderclap of energy. A deafening cry of pain. Thrashing tentacles in their death throes. Wherever Lukas had stabbed, it had dealt a killing blow, but his success was little cause for celebration. In the monster's last moments, her body seized, muscles contracting with titanic force... titanic force that crumpled metal and shattered beams as their ship, the pride of dark elf slavers, was crushed just like all the others.

"ShitShitSHIT!"

Garret was not the only one spewing panicked profanities as the deck gave way beneath him. He, and the other crew members were forced to scramble for whatever they could hold onto as the ship bucked and began to break, torn apart by the thrashing tentacles. His half began to rise up when the stern, its weight no longer counterbalanced by the bow, dipped down, towards the surf. Barrels, boxes, and unlucky sailors tumbled past Garret as he clung to a guardrail, sliding into the ocean... and the waiting arms of countless, aquatic monsters. With the ship sinking, a 'feeding frenzy' had begun.

A final few gunshots sounded, as a handful of marines, one-handing their firearms, tried to scare off the 'fish'. Eventually, they lost their grip and fell from the steeply pitching deck, into their new lives as incubi, while Garret tried to delay his own, inevitable fate as long as possible. Hand-over-hand, and praying for a miracle, he clambered along the guardrail, up the rigging, onto whatever he could get a grip on, to pull himself as far away from the water as possible.

"Is this really how it's supposed to end? Is this really what you planned for me?"

Once he'd reached the last handhold and could climb no higher, Garret muttered that quick prayer to his Goddess, begging for salvation. Fear seized his gut as what was left of the ship shuddered and began to tilt past vertical. It was about to capsize, he realized, but... Glancing left and right, he looked for a way to scramble around to the side of the hull. Nothing. He was going in the drink, no matter what.

Drowning or monster-food... Perhaps the first would have been the better option, but as imminent death loomed before him, Garret desperately searched for any way out - even if it meant possibly giving up his soul. Eyes flicking across the surf, he spotted a barrel that could hold him and, without thinking further, flung himself from the listing ship.

With the grace of an albatross, Garret flew through the air and managed to hit his target, splashing down into the water. The inertia of his leap caused him to impact the barrel harder than expected, and his clumsy landing resulted in bruising and a brief daze as his head collided with the wood. Disoriented, he nearly let go, but at the last moment, he managed to keep his grip, wrapping his arms around the floating barrel. Maneuvering as best he could, he hauled himself partially out of the water. He was safe… for now.

With a flimsy, wooden cylinder being all that prevented him from slipping below the surf, to sink goddess-knew how deep, Garret was not in an enviable situation,... but it was still better than the panic of an inevitable, terrifying death. That relative 'safety' bought Garret enough time and clarity to take stock of the situation and look around.

The lanterns of the ship, now extinguished, meant the impenetrable darkness veiled his sight, but though he couldn't see, he could still hear things... none of which were good. Thrashes in the waves, as humans struggled against monsters, sighs and cries of pleasure, as they were overwhelmed, and the occasional, more impressive form of resistance, sounded from around him. Somewhere off in the distance, Garret heard a shriek, then a hastily screamed spell, and the sea of monsters was illuminated by a brilliant bolt of electricity. That lightning mage from before had to have been the source... and likely fried herself, and everyone around her when that spell went off. Indeed, no further bolts came in the minutes that followed. Garret saluted her courage.

Cold crept into his bones, as he clung to his barrel, mentally counting the passing hours. Being one of, if not the, last person into the water, he'd mercifully avoided the attention of the mamono. Preoccupied with other swimmers, they hadn't noticed him, and Garret hoped he could keep it that way… but avoiding attention meant not moving. Kicking legs would signal anything below him that this particular piece of flotsam was not unoccupied, as would any flashy spells. Without movement or magic to warm him, though, the freezing ocean sapped Garret's body of its strength. As time crept on, more than once, Garret found his grip slipping, numbed fingers no longer able to hold fast. Faced with the possibility of drowning once more, Garret strained his ears to listen. The noises of human-monster coupling around him had long-since faded, maybe he could chance it? Maybe a small spell would be ok?

With a crackle, his deliberately-reduced flame sparked into existence, its paltry warmth seeping into his hands. While the spell only conjured a fire the size of a pebble, its existence still sent Garret's heart abeat. Though it merely shone with the force of a candle, to his now-night-adapted vision, it might as well have been a bonfire. Muttering a curse under his breath, Garret tried to cup it with his other hand, but that caused him to lose his grip entirely. Suddenly sliding off the barrel, he flailed and kicked, managing to secure another hold, but adding noise and motion to his already conspicuous display.

He never should have done this! Shit! Cursing his mistake, extinguishing the flame, and ceasing his movement, Garret forced his numbed fingers to action, clinging to the waterlogged wood as tightly as they were able. Holding his breath, Garret waited in apprehension, praying that no one or no thing had been around to notice that.

Seconds passed.

Then a minute.

Then another.

With a sigh, he relaxed a little. He was still freezing and in danger of drowning, but at least he didn't have to worry about mo-

A tentacle hooked his leg and pulled, interrupting his thoughts as buoyancy ripped the barrel from his grasp, and he was yanked underwater.

Panic, and another appendage, gripped Garret as he found himself pulled deeper beneath the surf and into the waiting embrace of a scylla. Her arms wrapping around him, Garret flailed, blindly, trying to find his attacker. Through a stroke of luck, his hands brushed hair and, following it, her face. Like the lightning mage before him, Garret screamed and pressed his hands against her, summoning two flaming spears to pierce her, point-blank.

Adrenalin kept him conscious, albeit just barely, as the magic fought through the monster's innate resistance to fire, pierced the barrier, and detonated within his foe. The slackening of the tentacles freed Garret, but now, his flailing took on another purpose. He had to get to the surface!

His lungs crying out for air, Garret floundered in the depths. He kicked, he threw his arms around, he tried to push himself through the water. For his efforts, he found himself brought slightly closer to the surface… but not knowing how to swim, and having just exhausted himself with his magic, his movements rapidly slowed. As his body failed him and lungs began to run out of air, unimaginable terror gripped his heart.

No! Not like this! Anything but this!

Garret's mind raced as he tried to find a way out, searching for salvation in any form. There was none to be found. He had always thought he'd die on the battlefield, but it looked like his end was going to be an undignified one of suffocation, leagues beneath the waves.

Goddess, save me!

As Garret's air ran out, his instincts forced him to breathe. Lungs filled with salt water, his vision faded, and with it, his consciousness. Before the darkness enveloped him entirely, he mentally muttered one last prayer as oblivion was forced upon him.

Author's Notes: Well there we have it. The resolution/'proof' of what happened to le Blanc, the doom and destiny of Lukas/Brynhild, and our hero, drowned in the ocean. I don't think it's a spoiler to say that this isn't the end of the story, though - Garret has a nasty habit of not staying dead for very long. The next chapter is planned to be shorter than this, so hopefully I can get it out a bit faster and resolve the cliffhanger - Maybe it'll only take four months, instead of six! (For real, I hate that I can't find the time to write as often as I'd like - a heartfelt thank you to everyone who's stuck around, despite the terrible update schedule.)

Ok, so what was the point of this chapter? Let's talk 'characters'. First off, we have Admiral Harriet from not-Britain, whose name I managed to spell like… three different ways in the last chapter (now fixed). Oops. Though I love the character archetype of the noble/posh, upper-class and hyper-competent military officer, she was never intended to stick around for very long. Her job was to provide exposition and serve as a vehicle to move the plot forward, but despite this, I wanted to give some 'meat' to her character. I'm a huge proponent of the idea that 'everyone is a hero in their own story', and heroes have wants, fears, hopes, and dreams like any other. Obviously I can't go into depth with everyone Garret interacts with, but for those who stick around for more than a paragraph, I like to try and inject some stuff in there. IMO, it makes the world and the characters in it feel a bit more 'real'. And so, we have the scene describing her love of astronomy, as well as a bit of philosophy. I think they served to humanize her a bit, as well as serving a secondary purpose - the discussion of that purpose is for another time, though.

One character I did not do a good job with, in this regard, was Lukas. His role in the story was to serve as a reflection/contrast to Brynhild - a little more empathetic, a little more caring for his men, and a little less sure of himself, as well as to provide a perspective that would help develop/reveal the Valkyrie's own character. Unfortunately, I never really got the chance to flesh him out, nor do I have any brilliant ideas for what I would do if I went back to rewrite everything. I'll have to do some serious thinking on this, once I finish the story. If I ever do a 'remaster' to improve it using what I've learned, maybe I'll add some fluff to give him a bit more depth.

Brynhild's character was definitely the most fleshed out of the pair, both because of her greater importance to the story, and just because I liked writing her. In most previous chapters, she was pretty detached - cold, professional, unapproachable, and seemingly uncaring of those she viewed 'expendable'. As Garret got closer to her, though, I tried to put some cracks in that mask to show there was more going on than pure, unflinching dedication to her duty.

Certain flickers of emotion when he or Lukas interacted with her, the scene of her drinking strong alcohol in secret, certain warnings or expressions of unexpected sympathy - all of these were intended to hint at the idea that she was becoming (or always was) disillusioned with what her duty forced her to do, and that she was trying to at least make some good come of it. For example, sending Garret to the windmill - was she trying to get him out of the way? Or to shield him from seeing what happened to the harpies, and the subsequent guilt of not being able to stop it?

This bit about her hiding her emotions as she 'did what must be done', all the while hating it, was intended to be a parallel to Garret's own character. I also wanted to include that 'cracking' scene, when she sacrificed herself to give Lukas the power he needed - She was steadfast and brave, forcing herself to do whatever her duty demanded, but when her final minutes came and none of that mattered anymore, the facade shattered and her true feelings were revealed, if only for a moment. She really did love Lukas. I hope that my intentions for this character came through in the story, now that her arc has concluded.

On the topic of events, we've just lost a hero and a valkyrie to the monsters, though to be fair, they went down swinging for a very good cause. Isn't there something familiar about this, though? Wasn't there something similar that happened, causing the harpy-purge in the first place? Something about officers or supplies, important to the crusade, going missing? Hmm…

One final thing I'd like to say is that I also like the idea of giving minor feats of heroics/badassery to background characters, even if they have no relevance to the actual plot. This feeds back into the idea of 'everyone being a hero', and I've always found I identify more with redshirts than a story's heroes, because they're just random guys like you or me. In this world, I'm no one special, and if someone were writing a story set here, I would be a redshirt. So out of sympathy/empathy for them, they get their own, tiny little shares of the limelight. Like the marines, hanging by one hand as they fired their weapons (which I thought was a pretty cool mental image), or the lightning mage's suicidal last stand. Yes, random infantryman #3721, even if you're doomed, you still tried your best. You can have a cool moment, too.

That's all for now, I hope everyone enjoyed this long-delayed update. Easter, Eid, Labour day… all sorts of holidays are coming up. Since I guarantee I won't be updating again before the month is out, I'll wish y'all well for each and every one of them.

Until next time, Sayonara!