Good morning everyone and happy New Chapter day! Life got a little crazy the last two months, and between regular life stuff being its own little thing and also preparing for a local convention earlier this month, it took a little longer than expected to get this chapter ready to go. I volunteered at Minneapolis' CONvergence about two weeks ago, and was actually a co-presenter for a panel on the growing trend in isekai anime series. It wasn't until I had joined the panel planning email thread that it clicked… This story is, functionally, an isekai. So that was a weird little epiphany, but definitely a fun one to have.

Did you all know that there were fewer than eighty isekai anime series in the years from 1985-2010, but since 2011 there have been well over two hundred? I did not know that before I decided to help present a convention panel on isekai. But let's see what's in the comments.
AthanMortis: Due to a combination of different circumstances, I haven't gotten around to Intergrade yet, so I have no idea to what extent my Yuffie and Remake Yuffie will line up. Rufus' arrogance is definitely a thing, but suffice it to say that Ranma is not the only one in this text with daddy issues. And there's more going on with Rufus than has been said so far.
StrawberryPepper: A food that only the Wutai know how to eat sounds like an interesting plot point, and definitely at least a potential for a few good laughs, but like the above, I haven't had a chance to get to it yet. Maybe it'll show up in an omake?
Negashard: Saffron's first appearance is chapter 399 of the manga, and he more or less represents the series' final boss. More of my interpretation of Ranma's interactions with Saffron will be revealed in time, but they all use the manga's endgame as a base.
Guest: Glad you're enjoying!

There's more to come, and I'm doing my best to get the next few chapters loaded up as they're ready. Stay tuned, and read on.

Chapter Forty

Like Water

[ ν ] - εγλ 0007, December 20

"There is no Promised Land," Shiva said in a voice filled with regret.

Aerith felt her heart plummet like a stone. She stopped short. "...what?" she whispered in disbelief. She turned that thought over in her head and examined it from every direction, and it failed to add up compared to her existing knowledge. She stared up in defiance at Shiva. "My mother, Ifalna, told me of the Promised Land when I was very young. She told me that we… the Cetra… would speak to Gaia, listen to Gaia, help shape the planet, and one day reach the Promised Land in repayment of our duty to Gaia." Her voice was low, but the anger and betrayal in her tone was plain to hear. "What do you mean, 'there is no Promised Land'?"

Silence passed between the three of them for a few seconds. "The Promised Land is an allegory," Shiva explained finally, the expression on her face one of resolute sadness. "A parable. Nothing more. It is not a place that exists, in this land of Wutai that you speak of, or in any other the Cetra have visited."

Ranma watched as Aerith's face contorted through a number of emotions… distress, anger, confusion. Her grip on the staff tightened, her knuckles white along the edges. "That… can't be true," she repeated, more to herself than to Shiva.

Shiva shook her head sadly. "I wish it were not," she responded in a softer tone.

"Okay, I kinda get that this is s'posed to be a bad thing," Ranma commented, "but if this Promised Land really doesn't exist-"

Aerith turned and glared at Ranma. "Yeah, Sephiroth and Shinra can't get somewhere that isn't real, I get it," she finished in a low voice, gesturing in irritation with one hand. She paused for a moment, took a breath, and shook her head. "Sorry, Ranma… that was… uncalled for. This is a lot to take in all of a sudden." She turned back to Shiva, tears forming in her eyes. "Why do you say that there's no Promised Land?"

Shiva's expression softened some. "I was a mother too, once, before what I am now, just as I too was someone's daughter before even that," she answered. She took a step forward and knelt down, reaching out with one hand to wipe away the tears on Aerith's face. Shiva's hand passed straight through Aerith's cheek, a pale, ghostly energy radiating from her arm and the side of Aerith's face. "I remember my own mother telling me the story when I was a child. And I remember as I grew older, the story… changed. By the time I became an adult, I understood the truth for what it was. If the Promised Land ever was to exist, it was not a place that could be found on a map, and it was not something to be handed to us. It was a place the Cetra would need to create for themselves, through their perseverance, their valor, and their ingenuity." She paused at that thought, and turned her head to regard Ranma, even as the question itself was still directed at Aerith. "If this stranger to Gaia's embrace is teaching you of the ways of the Cetra, then where are the rest of our people? Why are the other Cetra not teaching you instead?"

Aerith hesitated, and looked down at the deck boards. "I… my mother told me that we were the last of the Cetra. As far as I know…" she paused, taking a breath and steeling herself against the pain, the loneliness that she felt in the face of this confession. "...As far as I know… I'm the only one left."

Shiva stood up again, facing Aerith, who still could not look up at her. "I see now. Your path is indeed a difficult one, young Cetra." The spirit turned to Ranma, her cold eyes seeming to take on a fragment of compassion. "And your path is now much clearer. You must teach her what you can. And I will teach you what you must know, if she is to be your disciple."

Ranma looked more than a little shocked at that. "Wait, you can teach us stuff? Why'dja wait so long to bust that out?"

Shiva's expression darkened slightly. "I had no idea how trustworthy you were, after you said that you were not a Cetra," she answered simply. Ranma frowned, but said nothing. The spirit seemed to react to his expression, baring her teeth in a slightly menacing smile. "But you clearly have skill beyond this. You have already grasped the basics by speaking with me. You must next understand how two spirits can become one, to claim a fraction of our strength with your own hands. You will need that strength to reach the temple."

Aerith met Ranma's look of confusion with one of her own. It was clear that his student had no idea what was going on. Ranma turned to face Shiva. "Wait, what temple?"

Before she could answer, Shiva's form began to fade in the sunlight, growing wispy and translucent. "Our time runs short once more, and I have no more to share. You are near the Children of Da-Chao, the land you called Wutai. You must go to that place and find Leviathan. He can tell you more."

"Wait!" Aerith called out, as Shiva became more ghostly in appearance. "The stories say you don't talk. We now know that's wrong. The stories also say you aren't prisoners to the Summon materia. Are you?"

The spirit of ice was almost completely gone when she answered, smiling softly. "Most of us chose this prison, young Cetra. Do not seek to open it, for greater and darker things than I are also held here." And the gentle smile was the last part of her to vanish in the morning light.

Aerith stared at the space where Shiva disappeared, struggling to hold back tears as the materia's glow faded. But they came anyway, and in the early morning light of sunrise at sea, surrounded by a thin layer of ice just past their feet in every direction, the young woman felt the sudden heaviness of having so much that she had taken for granted stripped away in the space of a few words. Without meaning to, she found the nearest source of warmth and began sobbing gently into Ranma's tunic.

Ranma stood there in shock, utterly uncertain of what to do with himself or his student.

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Ranma and Aerith returned below deck as breakfast was being served up by one of the sailors. "Gang's all here," Ranma muttered to himself, glancing around the galley. Red was at his usual place at the foot of the table, gnawing on what resembled a pork shoulder. Tifa, Cloud, and Barret all sat near the head of the table. Yuffie was at the second table with Cait sitting on her shoulder, and was running a whetstone over her shuriken. Ranma looked up at Aerith, a step or two behind him on the stairs. "You wanna tell 'em, or should I?"

Aerith hesitated for a moment. "I know it's… kind of a Cetra thing, but you're the one who opened the door for this one." She smiled, though even Ranma could tell that it was forced. "We should tell them together."

"We already know you're together," Yuffie commented with a smirk, "it's not like it's a secret or anything." Ranma immediately turned as red as a tomato, fists balled up tightly, but remained in place as Tifa leaned across to the second table and smacked Yuffie smartly across the back of the head. "Ow!"

"That mouth's going to get you into trouble," Tifa chastised. Before anyone else could say anything else, she turned to Ranma and Aerith with a genuine smile. "Now, I think there was something you wanted to say?"

"Aye, lass an' laddie,'' Cait called out from his perch on Yuffie's shoulder. "Ye've got the floor."

Ranma took a deep breath and nodded, some of the extra color fading from his face. "Yeah, there's some new stuff we found out…" he began. He held up the darkened summon materia and handed it to Tifa, who showed it to the others. "Last two nights, I've been summoning Shiva."

Red perked up from his slab of meat, ears twitching slightly. "That… shouldn't be possible," he said, echoing Aerith's insistence from the previous evening. "Summons make noise, they can be seen, they do things. And I will not speak for the others, but I at least am not what you would call a heavy sleeper."

Yuffie blinked and stared at Ranma in confusion. "Is that what you were doin' up on the aft deck all by yourself the other night?" she asked, some of the pieces falling into place for her. "When it all froze solid like that?"

Ranma tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Turns out… there's more than one way to use the summon materia."

Cait hopped off of Yuffie's shoulder, landed on the table, and started walking towards them. "Hang on a mo," he said, gesturing with one mittened paw at the dark red materia, his feline gaze fixed on Ranma. "Summon's a Summon. Ae ain't been around as long as the rest o' ye, but even Ae know tha'."

"You're… mostly correct, Cait," Aerith answered carefully, taking a seat at the second table in front of the cat. "It turns out that the Cetra, my people, had some secrets of their own. There's a way to use a summon that's… not visible, I guess… that doesn't attack or anything. I didn't know about it, because… well, there was nobody to teach me. Until now."

A silence fell over the entire group as that bit of information sank in. Barret was the first person to break it. "You mean to tell us that Ranma's…" he waved his good hand vaguely in the air, "magic-martial arts bullshit… and all them stories about the Ancients and what they could do… they're the same thing?"

Ranma stepped forward, shaking his head. "Not exactly," he said, leaning against the galley table as he spoke. "My world's chi techniques and your world's lifestream arts, like what Tifa was talking about with her old sensei… those are the same, far as we can tell. But it also turns out that what your world calls mana and what my world calls chi can do diff'rent things with materia."

"And that's where the summon comes in," Aerith picked up, pointing at the Shiva materia. "Ranma was struggling with the mana part of summoning, and… uh… just replaced it with lifestream energy."

Cloud tilted his head slightly, and then shrugged. "After what you showed me yesterday with that Elemental technique of yours, I'm not surprised."

Tifa passed the materia to Cloud, as Aerith continued her explanation. "Well, this'll probably be a little bit more of a shock… when Ranma showed me the lifestream-summoning trick this morning, Shiva talked to us."

There was a sound. At first Ranma thought it might have been someone's jaw hitting the floor, or that Cloud had dropped the materia out of shock. Then Ranma noticed the sailor still moving next to the stove. "Kyōjin… shōkan wa hanaseku nai," the sailor muttered in an agitated tone, picking up a fallen pan and moving swiftly past the group to the main deck.

Ranma looked up the stairs as the sailor disappeared above them. "...the hell is his problem?" he wondered out loud.

"It has to do with Leviathan."

Eight sets of eyes shifted attention, away from Ranma and Aerith, landing instead on Yuffie, who had set down her shuriken and whetstone. Once again, the silence blanketing the group could have been cut with a knife. Aerith was the first to speak. "Shiva mentioned Leviathan, too, when she spoke to us. Do you want to fill us in?"

Yuffie rubbed at her forehead in frustration, before gesturing around the room with her other hand. "I know you're not supposed to know this, boss, bein' a space alien or whatever… but I really thought the rest of you went to school. Shinra's education standards must be lower than I thought." Tifa, Cloud, and Barret all shared a look of agreement, as if they'd had a similar conversation before. Yuffie continued, "Leviathan is Wutai's… I don't think your language has a word that means the same thing to us. Guardian, deity, patron, those are all close, but there's more to it. The stories tell that Leviathan had a way to speak to the worthy. The royal family," she said with a generous helping of disgust, "used to claim that they could all talk to Leviathan when they needed to, and that his words were a form of divine guidance to our people. But nobody, royals or otherwise, has said they've heard Leviathan for almost a decade. I think it was something the old masters knew about… and if it was, then that's just one more thing my people lost in the war."

The silence lay thick once more, but this time it was a bit more awkward. Aerith scooted down the bench seat to sit opposite Yuffie, drawing her gaze after a few seconds. "So… I understand some of why Leviathan is important," she started, her tone calm and reassuring, "but why did the sailor react that way when he heard us? I only know a few Wutaian words, but even if I didn't, something about how he said it sounded like he thought we were nuts."

Yuffie shook her head. "He called both of you madmen, yeah, but that's… okay, there's something I need you to understand. This is not. Talked. About." The staccato words were punctuated by the ninja slapping the bottom of her closed fist against the table. "Some folks think the war started because Shinra found out about us talking to Leviathan and wanted to know how we did it. We found out later on it was just that they wanted to make a new mako reactor playground for their kiddies or whatever. But after that," she continued, looking away, "nobody wanted to risk it… no one wanted to give Shinra another reason to start up a war with us. So there's a kind of unspoken rule for us Wutaians… and 'unspoken' is the rule. We don't talk about it. We don't say anything about it to each other, and we definitely don't talk to gaikokujin like you bunch about it. Kenta - that's the sailor you just set off, by the way - he took it a bit personal, I think. But if you're saying you've figured it out for not just Leviathan but for every summon spirit, then you should start expecting exactly that kinda reaction if you start talking about it once we reach Wutai."

The conversation paused again as Yuffie's revelation sank in, the consequences of the war rearing their head once more. Ranma briefly remembered their last day ashore, Aerith telling him not to let Yuffie know that the Ifrit summon had said anything, and that connection quietly slid home in his head. Cloud offered the discharged materia orb to Barret, who took it, staring at it thoughtfully. "You said… you were sayin' that Shiva told you about Leviathan," he said, glancing up at Ranma. "Sounded like there was more to dat story."

Ranma nodded. "She says we're gonna have to talk to him… she doesn't know anything else she can share with us, or at least that's what she's sayin'. She also said…'' he hesitated, his eyes flicking over to Yuffie, "...that the Promised Land ain't in Wutai."

Yuffie's eyes went wide, her head spinning around to Ranma. "Wait, what?" she shouted.

Cloud's reaction was more subdued, but no less vocal. "It's not there?"

The others chimed in, their individual words lost in the clamor of each other's voices. Aerith raised her hands calmly, waiting for silence. "Shiva said a lot of things, so I'll tell you what I can… but the most important one right now is that she says that the Promised Land is…" she hesitated, and met Ranma's eyes with a significant look, "...it's somewhere Sephiroth can't possibly get to it. Shinra, either. But it's not in Wutai. We're almost to Wutai anyway, and we're going to need to find Leviathan to find out more… so we're still going the right way, we were just going there for the wrong reason before now. Bottom line is, Sephiroth won't be able to do… whatever it is he's planning to do with the Promised Land, and Shinra won't be able to turn it into the next Midgar."

Cloud turned that over in his head for several long seconds, as the others contemplated it in their own ways. There was a moment where it all sounded like a good thing, where it meant that they were all safe, that their quest was already over. And then it clicked. "It doesn't matter." The others all turned to face him. "It doesn't matter if they can get to the Promised Land or not. The Promised Land isn't the goal for them, it's an excuse. And if they stop looking for it, it'll be a lot worse for us all." He stood up, and gestured with one hand. "If Shinra stops looking for it, they'll just think up some other way of turning all of Gaia into their own personal gil generator, no matter who they have to step on or what they have to kill to make it happen. If Sephiroth finds out that he can't get to it, then anywhere he ends up going, it's just going to be like Nibelheim all over again or worse. The very worst thing we could do right now would be to spread that around. Shinra and Sephiroth are both still dangerous, but if they're chasing an impossibility, then at least their energy is being wasted, instead of focusing on us, or on the people we each want to protect. They both need to be stopped." Cloud curled one hand into a fist and pressed it against the table. "So we press on. We keep fighting. And for now, at least, this stays between us."

The others nodded their understanding or made quiet sounds of assent. Cait turned to Aerith, his slitted eyes meeting the brunette's own gaze. "Well, do th' two of ye have any other bombshells to drop on us this mornin'?" he asked in a light tone.

Ranma opened his mouth to answer, but Aerith spoke before he could. "No, I think… I think that was it." Aerith glanced at Ranma again, and there was something in her eyes imploring him to remain silent on the rest of the information. Ranma closed his mouth and gave her a gentle nod of his head in response. Aerith continued, "I know it's a lot… but we couldn't keep this to ourselves, especially since we were going to Wutai expecting that we might find what Sephiroth is looking for."

Cloud nodded his understanding, rubbing his chin with one hand thoughtfully. "So… if it's somewhere that they can't get to, then that means we're no longer looking for the Promised Land. And you say we need to find Leviathan." He turned to Yuffie. "I don't suppose you know where to find Leviathan, do you?"

Yuffie seemed to shrink into herself at that question. "I…" she trailed off, before shaking her head. "If anyone has it, it'd be the Emperor of Wutai," she answered finally. "No idea where. It's probably guarded, though. I hear the royal family likes traps."

She demonstrated by holding one hand flat against the table and making a chopping motion with her other hand. Cait's eyes went wide at that. "Yeah, not lookin' forward to seein' me insides on me outsides," he commented wryly. "An' Ae'm tha one outta this whole lot that might live through that."

"All right," Cloud said after another moment of contemplation, "then we'll have to figure that one out when we're boots on the ground in Wutai. We've got probably two days of travel left, so we should be ready when we arrive. Yuffie, if you have any other insights, we'll be glad to hear them."

Yuffie looked as if she was deep in thought for a moment. "It'll depend on where we make port," she answered, shrugging. "I'll go and talk to Shiro-sencho today and find out where he wants to dock, and then I'll see what I can tell you about the country from there."

"And if we've got those two days left," Ranma said, standing up from his slouch against the wall, pointing to each of his students in turn, "then let's eat up, and then get back to your training."

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The sun was low in the morning sky as Ranma left Aerith and Tifa to their practice on the dummy. Yuffie was waiting for him near the bow of the ship. "So today's where I learn to be invisible, right?" she asked with all the subtlety of a child asking about the wrapped presents hidden in the closet.

Ranma shook his head. "Today's where I teach you how to perform an advanced technique. There's actually two parts to even get the Umi-sen Ken started, an' I ain't expecting you to get either part in one try. Before you try to make any of it happen, though, you need to understand what it does."

Yuffie looked at Ranma with a confused expression. "It makes you invisible, doesn't it, boss?"

Ranma shook his head. "Not quite." He held up one hand flat, moving his other hand across it, waggling his fingers vaguely. "You can still be seen, 'cuz I'm pretty sure it doesn't work on cameras, but ordinary people who look at you don't usually notice you even if you're right in front of them… it's like their eyes just kinda slide offa you. It does mask your chi energy, makes it so that you're hard to keep track of in a fight. If you do it right and maintain it, then yeah, you're nearly invisible. But," he continued, pausing and gesturing with one hand for emphasis, "strong emotions weaken it, and can disrupt the technique entirely."

"...like, what kind of strong emotions?" Yuffie asked.

Ranma's expression turned serious. "All of 'em," he stressed, pressing his thumb and forefinger together and drawing a line with them in midair. "I mean it. I've been caught out using this technique in two different fights because I couldn't keep a lid on my rage, and one of those fights was back in Junon against that big brick wall of a SOLDIER. But jealousy, greed, fear, happiness even… you have to be in control of all of it."

Yuffie stared in silence for several seconds, and Ranma crossed his arms over his chest while she took that in. "So I gotta… what, turn into a robot or something?"

Ranma gave a little smile and shook his head. "It's way too much to ask you to feel nothing at all. I can't even manage that unless I absolutely need to, and I wouldn't wanna try ta live like that. But what you hafta understand is how to feel things calmly, to let the feelings come, an' then go, without disturbing you. Close your eyes," he instructed, and waited until Yuffie had done so before continuing. "In a fight, your emotions can become like a raging storm, pulling you this way and that, distracting you from your goals. You can't make the storm disappear. But what you can do is learn to become the calm eye at the center of the storm, the point in the middle that the storm thunders around but never touches. The storm, your emotions, they're out there, howling like the wind. You have to recognize them, understand them, and then let them go."

Yuffie was silent again for a few seconds as she contemplated that mental image. "Okay, I think I get what you're talking about," she answered after a moment. "But… how do I do that?"

"How do ya think you should begin doing it?" Ranma asked brightly.

Yuffie thought about that. She thought about what they'd been doing for the last two days, the training she'd been going through to improve her dodging by sensing his lifestream to know when he was going to act. That didn't feel like the right answer. She tried to think about what else had happened during the training. She remembered tailing Cloud or Aerith based on the way their lifestreams felt, how different they were from each other or from Ranma. That didn't feel like the right thing either. She thought about the time she'd spent dodging attacks, most of it spent arguing or griping about how much Ranma's elementally-enhanced punches stung when they connected. That definitely didn't feel like the right answer. Her brow furrowed up in frustration. "I dunno, boss," she admitted, feeling disappointed in herself that she hadn't seen the answer.

Ranma threw a slow punch, loaded with Thunder magic. With her eyes closed and senses stretched open, Yuffie recognized it almost instantly, and slid just to the right to avoid it. "Hey! What're you trying to do, anyway?" she demanded in an angry tone.

"You were pretty close to gettin' it yesterday, too," he ignored her question, throwing another Thunder punch, which Yuffie weaved around. "It's not about dodging the blows. It's about what happens when you get out of the way of yourself. Eyes on me, Yuffie."

Yuffie opened her eyes almost reflexively in response to Ranma's words, and saw the next punch coming for her. She felt a brief moment of rising panic, but managed to swing herself just to one side of the blow, feeling the hum and hearing the crackle of energy in the fist as it passed by her ear. She let out a slight squeak from the shock of how close it had been. "Sick and tired of your solution to everything being to try to punch me with those taser fists of yours!"

Ranma smirked and pushed forward with another pair of punches. Yuffie weaved her head between the attacks. "You're dodging, you're sensing my chi, you've even got enough focus ta argue with me… but something's missing, ain't it?" Ranma taunted as he spun around, one hand whipping outwards in a swift back punch. Yuffie ducked beneath it and stood back up, ready for more. "Any idea what it is yet?"

Yuffie paused just long enough to get grazed in the upper arm by another punch, letting out a gasp of surprise. "Dammit," she hissed through clenched teeth. Ranma paused and pulled back into a ready stance. "Stop doing that! Why do you hafta be so cryptic? Just tell me what I need to do already!"

Ranma shook his head. "Doesn't work like that, not for this part. This is somethin' that you need ta understand for yourself."

Yuffie growled in frustration. "And what happens if I don't understand, huh?" she argued back angrily. "What if I can't get this magic control over my emotions?"

Ranma reached out and grabbed Yuffie by the armguard. "Then that's still my failing as your-" he hesitated for a moment, remembering their conversation from yesterday about the sanctity of 'Master' to her people, "-boss. An' I'll try again, a different way. But I look at you, and you an' me got enough in common that I think you learn best the same way I do." Back against the wall, chips down, under fire, however you wanna put it, he thought to himself. You learn best when you've got no other choice but to learn. "But I ain't quittin' any time soon, runt. I know you can do this." He let go of her arm and took a step back. "So, close your eyes, think about yesterday, and tell me what's missing."

Yuffie tilted her head, fixing Ranma with a look of disbelief, but dutifully closed her eyes with a huff of breath, and started thinking about it again. There was something else, something she hadn't thought about yet. It felt like the answer was on the tip of her tongue, too, which was really annoying. Just like the entire training session was yesterday, she thought, her rebellious instincts pushing back.

Wait. Her thoughts caught up with herself finally. Not the whole time. There had been a minute or two where she felt untouchable… not just physically, but emotionally. She'd felt as if she was floating in placid water, dodging and evading almost effortlessly as Ranma's attacks rained down all around her. The calm center of the storm. She thought back to those moments, trying to recapture the feeling.

Ranma's voice was close and quiet when he spoke. "You won't be able to hold onto it, Yuffie, not like that," he said in a calm near-monotone. "It's like water. The tighter your grip, the more it flows away. You have to let it come to you naturally."

Yuffie tensed reflexively, but nodded her head, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. She let the moment of tension go, relaxing her muscles some. Her breathing steadied, and she felt that calm flowing back in. It was comforting, somehow, despite the unfamiliarity. Tranquility was not something she was accustomed to feeling. She stood there in silence for several seconds, before whispering, "It feels so fragile, like it's going to pop like a bubble the second I move."

Ranma smiled softly. "The old… the woman I learned this from called it the Soul of Ice," he explained, resisting the reflex to refer to Cologne as 'old ghoul' as he stepped out of Yuffie's personal space once more. "The version I'm teachin' you is more flexible, an' it's more durable than it feels at first. It'll hold up as long as you are in control."

Yuffie furrowed her brow, but otherwise remained still. "How do you keep control of it?" Her voice was tight, as if she was struggling with some deep emotions, and she could feel the ripples around her inner calm forming into waves. "In a fight, you have to be on the move, be aware of what's around you, and everything else, so how do you do this on top of all of that?"

Ranma thought about that for a moment. It had been most of a year since Cologne and the old man had put him through the training from hell to help him develop his Soul of Ice technique. It had certainly felt like something world-ending at the time. Looking back on it, and certainly in comparison to the last three and a half weeks of his life, maybe it hadn't been all that bad. But maybe there was something there that could be useful.

"That's gonna take some work," he answered, shrugging, "there's no way around it. The way I learned… well… let's just skip the way I learned it." He ran one hand nervously over the back of his neck, flashes of memory playing inside his mind. They were not pleasant memories, even accounting for his changed perspective. "An' that's why I've been pushin' ya. I'm teachin' ya my own take on the technique. An' since you are the first person I'm teachin' ta do this… you an' I are gonna figure it out together." Yuffie nodded calmly in response. "Remember that feeling, though. You're gonna get pretty familiar with it over the next few days."

Yuffie exhaled, and a tension inside her that she didn't realize was there subsided. "...whoa. That was weird… like a dizzy spell, but without the dizzy." She shook her head reflexively to clear the sensation.

Ranma nodded in understanding. "That's chi exhaustion," he explained, "or at least the low-grade variety. It's like lifting weights, you're gonna train up to it, and as you get better you'll be able to do more, for longer." He smiled and sat down, motioning for Yuffie to do the same. "Remember after I iced the monster on the beach?"

"How could I forget? Thought that thing was going to kill all of us."

Ranma suppressed his reflexive smirk, because he had very much thought the same thing. "After I performed the Hiryu Shoten Ha, I was drained. I've done enough trainin' with chi techniques that I don't just pass out for a whole day anymore after doin' that, but it's still like…" he hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a way to describe it, "...gettin' punched in the gut when you're not expecting it, an' ending up with the wind knocked outta ya. You can move if you really need to, but you're not up to bein' useful until you get a couple deep breaths."

Yuffie nodded her understanding and sat down as well. "Hey, you said that this was something you came up with, right?" she began, pulling one knee up into a half-crouch as she looked around aimlessly. "What do you call it?"

"Well… like I was sayin', the way it was taught to me, it was called the Soul of Ice," he responded, holding one hand out by way of demonstration, before slowly curling the hand into a fist. "It's supposed ta be strong, cool, unfaze-able… but it's also brittle an' hard to work with for other techniques. So what I'm teachin' you is more flexible, more adaptable, an' it'll still get the job done." He grinned as he held up his other hand parallel with the deck of the ship, mimicking the same wavy motion he'd shown her back on the cargo deck of the Grace of Ifrit. "So I call it the Soul of Water."

"...huh," Yuffie said. She tilted her head to one side, turning the idea over in her head. "Okay, I kinda see where you're going. But why would anyone create a technique that you need to be that in control to use?"

Ranma barked out a laugh. "You'd hafta take that up with my old man, he's the one who came up with the Umi-Sen Ken." He smiled mirthlessly, remembering when he was forced to learn it. "An' don't get me wrong. My pops is venal, greedy, cowardly, and opportunistic, but even I hafta admit he's a decent martial artist. So if ya think that's bad, you oughta see the rest of what he came up with."

Yuffie snorted. "Yeah, think I'll pass," she answered, stretching her legs out. "So what's next?"

"Next," Ranma paused, standing up, "you're gonna learn ta hold onto that Soul of Water even when you're bein' attacked. If ya can hold onto it for a whole minute, even while I'm comin' at ya, even while movin' around an' stuff, then you'll be ready to learn the other half of the Umi-sen Ken's disappearing trick." He turned his back to Yuffie, stretching in an altogether casual way. When he spoke again, there was a taunting lilt in his voice. "Now, I don't expect ya to get this for a few days at least, maybe even weeks-"

Yuffie sat bolt upright. "You think I'm going to let you keep doing that Thunder Strike crap at me for weeks?" she asked in a tone of disbelief. She slid off the crate she was seated on and took an aggressive posture. "Hell with that, I'm gonna get it by the time we reach Wutai, and you ain't gonna stop me!"

Ranma grinned. That's what I was hoping you'd say, he cheered internally, glad for his student's enthusiasm. He slid into a ready stance of his own. "Then let's get started."

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…elsewhere…

Rufus sat in the command tent, reading through the day's reports, as he awaited his evening meal. "Tseng," he began, holding out one of the reports. "Take a look at this."

Tseng approached and dutifully took the proffered sheet of paper. It was a summary of the displaced citizens of Rocket Town and the structure of the troopers assigned to be their wardens. It looked simple and straightforward. The villagers were being held in the Air Graveyard, in an impromptu corral that had been constructed out of various bits of scrap found there. A dozen armed troopers patrolled in shifts to ensure they did not escape, and also to protect them from the creatures and wildlife that roamed the area. "My apologies, president, but I don't follow."

Rufus paused as there was a knock on the post outside which constituted the tent's 'door'. "One moment, Tseng. Yes, who is it?" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the ordinary sounds of the encampment.

The tent flap was pushed open, and a small cart was wheeled in, a few covered dishes resting atop it. "Dinner, sir," came the answer, as the company cook entered with the cart.

Rufus nodded once in acknowledgement. "Good. You can set up over here," he gestured to one side of the 'commandeered' table. One whole side of the heavy storefront display had been kept clear of any clutter. The cook began setting up the dishes, and Rufus turned back to meet Tseng's gaze. "Look at the names."

The Turk ran his eyes over the list again. The refugees' names hadn't been listed, or recorded, as Shinra had little use for that information at the moment. But the names of the troopers assigned to guard duty were noted in the roster, along with- "Ah, I see now."

"Indeed," Rufus commented, as the cook removed the lids to the dishes. "Five of them are locals. Talk to the captain, make sure they're reassigned… then check the rest of the roster. Make sure nobody else is likely to have second thoughts. Now…" he turned to the prepared dishes, "what's on the menu today?"

The chef brightened up at the mention of his craft. "Tonight we have Cosmian curry with roast needlehawk, and a salad of fresh wild greens with a plum vinaigrette."

Rufus nodded to the chef. "I look forward to it. Thank you, that will be all." The chef bowed graciously and departed. He took a bite of the meal and looked over another report. "The 'cage' is set, apparently. How much food do you think they'll need?"

Tseng shrugged lightly. "I've never owned one, so I couldn't say. I suppose I could find out if-"

"No," Rufus interrupted, waving him back into stillness. "I would not waste your skills on something so mundane as that. I wouldn't even be wasting your time on personnel rotation, except that it needs to be done." He took another bite of his curry. "Micromanaging a military expedition and babysitting Heidegger was not how I envisioned my first days in charge to go… but I can't say it doesn't come with perks," he commented, ripping away a chunk of the roasted bird with his fork.

"There is that."

Rufus gave the Turk a halfhearted smile as he chewed the meat. "Hmm… a bit gamey, but not bad." He swallowed, pulling another chunk free and holding it out on his fork. "Have you tried this before?"

Tseng stared for a moment at Rufus. "I have not, and under the circumstances, I think that I may decline." Rufus looked at him in puzzlement. Tseng merely pointed to Rufus' bejeweled hand. "Your meal appears to have an… unpleasant additive."

Rufus withdrew his hand, setting down the fork, before examining the ring on his pinky. A simple gold band with a dark green gemstone set into the top… except that the gem was now lit with a pale green aura. "Well," he said, setting down his napkin. The ring was one of the many wards he wore against assassination, and could absorb almost any poison before it harmed his body. "I suppose that means I won't be trying the salad."

Tseng adjusted his tie. "Shall I fetch the chef for you?"

Rufus nodded, and stood up from his table. "Find out if anyone else might have been in the kitchen at the same time. Round them up, and see if any of them would be interested in trying the presidential meal. I'll see to the guard rotation myself while you're doing that."

"I'll see to it, sir," Tseng acknowledged, and followed him out.

A little over a minute later, a dark shape that had been lurking near some crates behind the tent moved away cautiously.

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Several minutes after that and partway around the world, Heidegger received a message via the PHS network. 'Attempt failed. Poison ineffective on target. Will attempt alternate when opportunity presents.'

Heidegger refrained from crushing the mobile device in his hand, but later that day the maintenance team was dispatched to another hallway to repair a series of holes in the wall.

Neither Heidegger nor the maintenance crew noticed the pair of green feline eyes that had been observing from the air vent the entire time.

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The rest of the day passed in a blur of sparring, training, and busy work aboard the Leviathan's Tail. Ranma was the last to arrive for dinner, having been recruited by the crew to help stow the fishing nets. As he came below deck, the smell of spices and fresh shellfish wafted up towards him. "Something smells good," he commented, getting a bowl and ladling himself a portion.

Yuffie and Cloud were sitting on opposite sides of a map. Yuffie pointed to an inlet in the landmass. "Shiro wants to make port here," she said, watching as Ranma sat down at the table. "It's south of Fort Tamblin-"

Cloud nodded his head in understanding, picking up on her thoughts. "And the Tamblin Pass is the only way through the mountains there, making it a perfect natural bottleneck against an invading force," he finished for her. When Yuffie looked up at him in confusion, he gestured broadly to himself. "Former SOLDIER, remember? I wasn't there myself, but I know about the last battle in the war."

Yuffie muttered something to herself, low enough that nobody heard. But Ranma was pretty sure the words her mouth formed had been, "You really don't." He frowned slightly, but said nothing in response. Instead, he turned to Cloud and pointed to the inlet on the map that Yuffie's finger had hovered over a few seconds before. "That's where we'll be comin' into Wutai?"

Cloud nodded, gesturing with one finger to either side of the inlet. "It's a few kilometers south of this pass through the mountains. From there, it's a half a day's march- sorry," he stopped himself, shaking his head. "Forget that. Old memories. From Fort Tamblin, it's a half a day's hike to the capital, assuming we can't hitch a ride with anyone. Fortunately, we shouldn't need to worry about Shinra while we're there."

"Why not?" Ranma asked between spoonfuls of his seafood stew.

"One of the terms of the peace treaty," Yuffie grumbled, finishing off her own bowl. "Even beaten, we still had our pride. We didn't want our country paved over for Shinra's profit, and we managed to get it in writing. Shinra can't build anything on Wutai soil, without Wutai's approval."

Ranma nodded in understanding. "That oughta make things easier," he commented.

Yuffie's expression was not a happy one. "We gave up a lot to get that, though."

Ranma turned to ask Yuffie what she meant, but the younger girl was already getting up from her seat, leaving behind her empty bowl and disappearing above deck once more. He shrugged and turned his attention back to his meal, as Cloud studied the map, muttering to himself. It didn't take Ranma long to finish his dinner, and with everyone else focused on their own thing, he followed Yuffie up to the main deck as well.

He was somewhat surprised to find Yuffie attacking the wing chun dummy he'd set up. Rather than interrupt, Ranma sat down and observed her style. In one hand, she held a large kunai in a reverse grip, thrusting the blunt handle into the dummy's weak points rather than the sharpened blade. The other hand was free and was being used intermittently against the dummy's torso to grab, push, and parry the imaginary strikes from the dummy. Her strikes were somewhat sloppy, with a lot of wasted motion, but he could tell that she was making what would be lethal attacks if the kunai was facing the other direction. It briefly occurred to him that the only other time he'd seen her fight was against the naginata-wielding SOLDIER in the forest before Junon. Not exactly the best display from any of us, he thought ruefully, remembering the fight. But she pulled our asses out of the fire, at least.

After several minutes with the only sounds being Yuffie's grunts of exertion as she continued to work out her aggression, she finally began speaking, unprompted. "Mister SOLDIER boy down there…" she punctuated her statements with further strikes against the dummy, "...looking over the map… of what's left… of my country… like a kid in a candy store… the hell's wrong with that guy? He was… practically… salivating!"

Ranma had also noticed Cloud's fascination with the map, poring over details and talking quietly to himself. He probably wouldn't have used the word 'salivating', though. "You gonna be all right?" he asked.

She struck again with the kunai's handle, a sharp thrust that connected just below the 'face', a blow that likely would have carved open the throat or lower jaw of a human opponent. "You know what 'weregild' is?" Yuffie asked suddenly.

"Were… what?" Ranma sat with a look of confusion, turning the word over in his head. "It's not like a werewolf, is it?"

Yuffie glanced over her shoulder at him. "A what? No, no, no, never mind," she waved her hands hurriedly in a dismissive gesture as she watched Ranma starting to open his mouth again. "We'll be here all day if you start in on something from that Japan of yours… but after we surrendered, there was a peace treaty. You said your country had a war too, and your country lost, so you at least get that. But there's an old concept, which basically means that the people who died during the war had value, like… putting a gil sign on a spreadsheet next to a person's whole life, their skills and contributions before they were killed in battle. That's a weregild."

Ranma blinked. "That's…" he paused, trailing off. He had no words for it. He could understand the practical reason, but it felt barbaric, somehow.

"Way back when weregild was a popular concept," Yuffie went on, either ignoring or oblivious to Ranma's confusion, "it was for small-scale stuff, back when Wutai was a couple dozen tiny kingdoms who were all fighting for control. When local warlords would press-gang able-bodied men into service as bodyguards or scouts, they'd be forced to pay weregild to the village itself so they could afford to buy rice or fish if they couldn't grow or catch enough with the men away at war, an' they'd have to pay weregild again to their families if those men died. It was a way of making sure that someone didn't just… I dunno, draft a whole countryside of farmers and damn the crops and the civilians." She threw another pommel strike, connecting hard with what would have been the dummy's ear, if it had an ear. Considering the size of the kunai's blade, it would have been an immediate kill had it been delivered point-first. "Shinra decided that in exchange for our sov- for us keeping Shinra from building on our land, we would have to pay weregild for every one of Shinra's dogs that died during the war."

A silence passed between them, broken only by the steady thud, thud, thud of Yuffie's attacks against the dummy. Ranma's brain tried to comprehend the concept of two countries going to war, and then one handing the other a bill for the lives of everyone that had died in the process, like getting your check at a restaurant… and failed utterly. The words 'war reparations' floated in the back of his mind from lessons in his history class, but until now he had never had anything concrete to link it to. "Kami, they really are monsters, aren't they?" he said finally.

Yuffie didn't answer for several seconds, focusing on her attacks. "We couldn't pay it. Half our country's population was in the ground. And we'd spent so much of our land's resources just holding on for as long as we did. We didn't have a mountain made of gil to ship off to Shinra, and we were absolutely not giving up our land. So we had to surrender the only other resource we had." Yuffie grappled with the dummy, raising her knee to the dummy's groin. "Shinra makes their materia in a factory or whatever, I don't know how their reactors work… but I know it's because of them they have so much of it in the first place. Wutai lets ours grow naturally from the mako springs. And since Wutai has so many natural mako wells, we had an abundance of materia in our possession. It was one of the reasons we held on as long as we did during the war, because we had a strong magic corps, they had powerful materia, access to summons, everything. And we had to give it all up, every last sphere, to satisfy Shinra's greed."

Ranma considered that for a moment. It was pretty terrifying to consider. He didn't know enough history to say what Japan's best resource was fifty years ago, but even as low as his academic scores were, he remembered that one of the penalties against Japan following the second World War was being stripped of its army. The JSDF had existed in its place since then, but was greatly reduced by comparison. He shook his head, clearing the heavy thoughts, and tried to focus on the matter at hand. "...an' you think they kept Leviathan?" he asked.

Yuffie spun quickly in place, lashing out with the hilt of the kunai just below the dummy's head padding, with what probably would have been enough force to seriously damage the 'neck' even without a kunai. "There's no chance… in hell… they'd give up Leviathan," she asserted, ignoring the kunai in her hand entirely and punching wildly at the padding with both hands. She growled in anger. "An' we gotta keep it a secret. Shinra can't know we kept it, or they might start the whole war up again just to spite us."

That wasn't difficult for Ranma to understand. He sat in silence as Yuffie continued her abuse of the dummy, which lasted for another minute or so. When she finally stopped and stepped away, he stood up and approached her. "You're angry."

Yuffie glared at him, panting slightly from the exertion of her impromptu workout. He glared back, and his gaze spoke volumes. She turned away. "Damn right I am." She took a few steps towards the railing, gazing out over the open water. "I know you're trying to teach me to control my emotions. Sometimes, though, ya just gotta get it out."

"...yeah, I know what you mean," Ranma answered, shrugging. "But, I want you to try somethin', since you're so worked up. Try usin' the Soul of Water."

Yuffie glanced over her shoulder. "What, now?"

"Right now."

Yuffie let out a sigh, but nodded her understanding and turned to face Ranma. She took a deep breath, reaching for the calm sensation she had experienced before. It was still unfamiliar, even after the hours of training she had been through earlier in the day, but at least she had a better idea now of what she was doing, and what she was supposed to do with it. As her chi senses awakened, she felt the Soul of Water's cool energy begin to envelop her. Her breathing slowed slightly. She felt the anger and frustration still, but it felt slightly distant, as if her emotions had been put into a box and carried into another room.

Ranma smiled as he extended his own chi senses slightly, observing his student as she embraced the Soul of Water. "You're pickin' it up fast, runt," he said. Hell, you're picking it up almost as fast as I did. Of course, you ain't gonna hear me say that… you've got enough of a fat head as it is. Instead, he squared up, facing her. "You were pretty close earlier, but let's see if you can hold onto it for a full minute while in a fight this time around."

Yuffie's eyes flicked up to meet him after a moment. She took a deep breath, and smiled. "Bring it on, boss," she responded in a wry tone, dropping into a defensive stance.

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It had been an exhausting session, but there was one last thing that Ranma needed to do before heading to bed. Late at night, he sat atop the crow's nest at the peak of the center mast. He held two orbs in his hands. One was the darkened burgundy of the spent Shiva summon. The other was the bright glowing red of the Ifrit materia. The martial artist sat in careful contemplation. Knowing the risks of this undertaking, he had done what he could to minimize them. He'd liberated a flame-smothering heavy woolen blanket from the engineering section, and carefully wrapped it around as much of the crow's nest as it would reach, though a few timbers remained exposed to the night air. He'd brought a bucket of water with him, just in case, though as cold as it was above deck, even if he'd just boiled the water, it would have gone cold by the time he got to the nest. And he'd inserted his Blizzard materia into his bracer.

"All right, Ifrit…" Ranma muttered under his breath. "One more time… show me what you got." And began pouring his chi into the summoning. He could feel the temperature rising slightly around him as he did so, but kept his chi flow steady until the casting snapped into place. He looked up, and saw the monstrous form of Ifrit, somewhat reduced in size, hovering in midair before him. "So, what's your deal?" he asked nonchalantly.

Ifrit didn't answer for several long moments. The spirit's eyes, glowing red and smoldering with smoke around the edges, stared down at Ranma. "You have called me… by the old ways," he spoke in a low growl. Like Shiva, his mouth did not move in time with his words, the speech arriving in his mind through some other method. Unlike Shiva, Ifrit's mouth did move, frequently, and appeared to pass through various stages of threatening grimace at all times. The spirit also spoke much more hesitantly, as if choosing his words carefully. "Why… have you done this?"

Ranma shrugged. "Because I don't have a choice," he said after a moment. He met the eyes of burning coal, and his determination did not falter. "I need answers, and I need your help to get 'em."

Ifrit crossed his burly arms across his chest and appeared to growl somewhat more significantly. "If you know how to speak… to we who have no voice… then you must already know. I am no scholar. There is… little that I can teach you."

Ranma nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah, I know about that," he answered calmly. "But there's somethin' I need from you, and I think a warrior like you will know the answers."

Ifrit's growl changed somehow, the tone shifting from 'threatening' to 'intrigued.' It was strange how easy the difference between the two was to parse, but somehow it felt right to Ranma when he thought about it. A low chuckle passed from Ifrit, before he asked, "What then… do you seek… from a warrior?"

Ranma paused for a moment. His experiences with Shiva had thus far been… confusing. The initial attempt had been a mess of mistaken identity, and everything else after that felt far too much like answers were being dangled at both himself and Aerith, like a child teasing a dog. Even after three nights of chipping away at her like a glacier, Ranma still felt as if Shiva was withholding something vital in that too-cold gaze. Talking to Ifrit, on the other hand, felt like talking to Ryoga. He could feel the burning rage just beneath the surface, the banked flames of strength ready to flare at a moment's notice. But even as bad as Ranma was at judging such things, it was clear from how the fire spirit behaved that lying was either something he did not do, or didn't do easily. Ifrit might not know as much as Shiva, but Ranma suspected that getting answers from Ifrit would be far easier. "I found out there's a way for a spirit like you to… merge… with me, somehow," he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a way similar to Ifrit's current posture. It was not a position he was accustomed to, since it left his hands occupied and his guard down, but it felt strangely natural right now.

Ifrit nodded his head. "You and I are already aligned," he answered, inclining his head. "From here… all you need is to ask, and if you are… worthy of my power, I will grant it to you."

Ranma paused for a moment, letting that sink in. He looked up at Ifrit, his bestial figure hovering in the air above and a few meters away from the crow's nest. By now, he had a pretty good idea of what the spirit meant, but he'd been burned by bad information in the past. "What kind of power?" he asked.

"My might," Ifrit answered, "a portion of it… would join with yours. Part of my… control of magic… and a portion of myself. It is only visible if you allow it to be… or if you use our combined magic. The fire I command… cannot be easily suppressed."

Ranma ran that through his head. It sounded like a good idea. It also sounded kind of dangerous. Letting something else into his head was bad enough, but asking for help in a fight was something that he had a lot of trouble with. He was the strongest, a prodigy, a man among men- He shook his head, dislodging that particular thought. I'm strong, but I ain't invulnerable. And I ain't alone in this. He remembered Cloud's words aboard the Grace of Ifrit, that they were stronger as a team than any of them could be individually, but this felt… different. Using something that couldn't be seen? It felt like something dishonorable, unworthy of him… like an ambush at midnight and a blade in the dark-

No, he thought. I ain't like that. I still got my pride, and I ain't gonna let that go for something like this. He uncrossed his arms, and there was a palpable change between them, as if a portion of the connection between them suddenly went slack. "No," he said finally. "I have to focus on teachin' the others. This can wait."

Ifrit had not moved from his spot before the martial artist for that entire time. "Strange," he commented, as he began to fade from view. "You deny yourself, yet… you hide why." The monstrous smile widened, reminding Ranma of a shark sensing blood in the water. A momentary flash of the fight on the beach as the Jenova creature absorbed the shark flashed across his mind, and he shuddered. Ifrit appeared to notice Ranma's continued inner turmoil, and continued, "Is there… something… you fear?"

"Ain't 'fraid of nothin'," Ranma declared, rebelling against the suggestion. Even though he knew that wasn't true, he wasn't about to admit it in front of a summon spirit. He lowered his arms to his sides, lifted his chin, and squared his shoulders in defiance. "But I know my strength, too. I'm strong enough that I don't need outside help in the middle of a fight to change the odds. If I get myself into it, then I'll get myself out of it."

The spirit of fire chuckled. "It is… no matter." Ifrit uncrossed his arms and let them drop to his sides in imitation of Ranma's posture, the talon-like fingertips reaching down to the spirit's knees. "The knowledge… is there now. When you are ready… I will be here."

Ranma did not respond as the spirit faded into nothingness. Beside him, the bucket of water finished steaming away into the cold night air as well, and the faint smell of woodsmoke faded into nothing.

Ranma is not exactly the same boy he was when we first met a kung-fu-fighting redhead and an aggressive panda bear some eighteen months ago (approximate in-universe time)... but critically, he is still Ranma, and he absolutely still has his pride. For better or worse, it is one of his key defining characteristics. And while the pedestal he places that pride of his atop may change from time to time, one constant for him is his belief, his unshakable confidence, that in a straight-up fight he will find a way to win without help.

Let's see how long he can hold onto that.

A little more set-up and a little more training, as the new Saotome-ryu pupils begin to pick up new and interesting combat skills, and Ranma gets more experience as a teacher. Likewise, we explore a bit more of the summons, and their particulars. They are unique in their own ways, as you may have noticed, and we will be seeing more of them, both numerically and in screen time, as we go along.

Language Lessons…

Kyōjin - Japanese. Madman, insane person.

Shōkan wa hanaseku nai - Also Japanese. Literally, "The summons don't speak."

Weregild - Old English. Literally 'man payment'. In times of old, Germanic law held that for severe crimes which were not simply punished by death, the offending party had to pay compensation to the victim, or to the victim's family in case of death, the value of which was calculated based on a person's land of origin and rank. The system of weregild was designed as an alternative to the other common punishment of the era, namely that of blood vengeance (which is exactly what it says on the tin).

Ranma's (and Yuffie's) techniques…

Soul of Water - An adaptational variant of the Soul of Ice, specifically used for the Umi-sen Ken. The emotional void required to initiate the Soul of Ice is profound in its own way, but different techniques require different things. The Umi-sen Ken demands not so much a lack of all emotion as it does a more neutral calm, where the user can recognize their own emotions and let them pass through peacefully. As a result, Ranma adapted the best technique he had access to in order to initiate the Umi-sen Ken. Yuffie is learning the modified technique, so that she too can learn the ins and outs of the Thousand Seas Style.

Hope you liked it! As always, feedback and comments are welcome. Full credit to my beta reader, by the way, whose assistance in preparing this chapter was invaluable. I hope to see you all back here for the continuation.