The night sky grew pink, harbinger of the rosy-fingered dawn.

With the first flicker of day, Varayana’s grotesque night-form slowly vanished –– her stretched out limbs shrank, her bones slotted back into their proper places and her tusks retracted into normal teeth. She sank down into the prow of the reed boat, curling up on herself like a Sailback sleeping near their clutch of eggs.

“Alright then,” Arjasoot said, loosening their grip on the safety rope rope. “No more walking overboard? And no more trying to chop my head off while you sleep, alright, Vara?"

Varayana let out a small snorting noise.

"Wonderful," Arjasoot replied, sighting with relief. They set their water-logged oar aside, and picked up their brass pot of embers. “Hello, little flame,” Arjasoot said, reaching for the pouch-pocket of their kilt. “I’ve got some leftover pine cones with your name right on it…!!”

“Arjasoot, scion of the Glass Tribe: is that you? My word, it is!”

Arjasoot’s head snapped up: Was that Varayana, they thought?

No, she was still sleeping in the reed boat’s keel.

Was it the Mound Thralls?

No, they had fallen far behind...

"Over here! Here, you silly goose!"

Arjasoot followed the voice to its source, poking their head over the boat’s edge. They saw a pretty face look up at him from the water.

“Hello!” The pretty face said. “My name’s Esmer! We haven’t met yet, but I was told to memorize your face!”

“...who are you?” Arjasoot asked.

“I already told you, silly filly!” The water-spirit said, tossing the foam-formed curls of their hair back and forth. “The name’s Esmer! Pleased to meet you! I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see a spirit like you on a river like this...”

“Who are you?” Arjasoot repeated, their voice as hard and harsh tempered iron.

Esmer’s gentle, beautific smile slipped. When they spoke next, their voice was far less pleasant:

“Such base rudeness. Well, one can only expect so much from Hearth-Vale swine.”

“Or maybe manners are wasted on Foam Court scum like yourself,” Arjasoot shot back.

“Oh, very good indeed!” Esmer said, clapping their water-shaped hands together. “Your tongue is certainly sharp for a Smoke Spirit.” Her eyes twinkled with delight. “One might say––a cut above the rest.”

Arjasoot groaned: "Merciful Devos help me..."

“What?” Esmer said, placing a hand over their transparent chest, the very picture of an offended maiden. “I was just trying to lighten the mood...much like your body will be lightened by the draining of your essence in a year’s time!”

“Why are you following me?” Arjasoot asked.

The water spirit’s lips formed into the shape of an ’O’, the very picture of astonishment. "Following you?" Esmer said. "Perish the thought! I was here for my vacation, nothing more! I was going to bask in the fresh-water, tear the fins off of some wriggling fish..." The foam-spirit raised their eyebrows: “Should I be following you?”

Arjasoot pressed their lips shut.

“Oh my,” Esmer said, lashes of brine fluttering over their eyes. “For you to be so far from home...are you running? Running from your sacred duty?”

“I,” Arjasoot spat, “am not running. I will be back for the sacrifice by the year’s end. Tell that to your masters when you see them next.”

“...and why should I do that, exactly?” Esmer asked. “I’m hardly seeing anything in it for me.” Their round, large eyes sparkled with a all-too bright glee. “Oh! If I did tell my masters you’d run off, your Elders would have to choose someone else for the sacrifice: your parent, perhaps?”

Arjasoot’s vision flickered orange and red. Esmer’s voice was drowned out for a moment, muted by the crackling of flames in their ears.

“...an old wisp like them wouldn’t make much of a meal for our God, but still…!”

“Esmer,” Arjasoot said, cutting off the Water-Spirit’s chattering words. “If you do anything that brings my parent harm, I will kill you.”

The water spirit sighed loudly: “Spare me the dramatics, Smoke Spirit. You can’t touch me, and you certainly can’t race me back to the Hearth-Vale in time!”

Arjasoot ground their teeth together in frustration, unable to deny it.

Esmer sneered up at Arjasoot from the river depths, her grin revealing a mouth full of green teeth: “You really ought to be more careful with your words around a spirit who holds the lives of your loved ones in their hands," they pointed out. "I am a reasonable spirit, of course. I can be persuaded to show mercy with the proper amount of begging––!"

Varayana swung her tin cup through the river, water splashing everywhere as her arm went in past the elbow. With a twist of her shoulder, she scooped Esmer’s face up from the water...and ripped it away from their liquid body.

“...AH!” Esmer screamed, shouting obscenities from the cavernous tin cup. "AGH! OH GODS!"

"Your words displease me, Foam-Spirit," Varayana said, lifting the mug to her mouth and glaring at the face inside. "Didn’t your parents ever teach you basic decency?"

“Human hag!" Esmer howled, thrashing around inside the tin drinking vessel. "Don’t you know who I am? I am Esmer of the Seven Smiles, Steward of the Foam Court, Handmaid to the Crushing Deep…!”

Varayana drank Esmer down in one gulp, throat working as she swallowed.

Esmer’s faceless body thrashed around in the water like a hooked fish.

With one last gulp, Varayana drained her cup. “Ah!” She exclaimed, letting out a gut-bursting belch. “That hit the spot!”

Arjasoot stared, captivated by the impossible woman before them–the sleeping Sword-Maiden, the Water Drinker.

“How much of our talk did you hear?” They asked.

“More than was appropriate, I suspect,” Vara replied, rubbing a hand over her chain-wrapped belly.

Esmer’s body went still in the water, twitching every few seconds.Arjasoot grabbed at their oar and shoved the carcass down until it started to sink into the river depths.

“I did not mean to deceive you,” Arjasoot said softly. “I was scared, you see, that…”

Varayana held out her hand, the jewels on her rings glittering in the morning light. “No,” she said.

Arjasoot flinched: “No?”

“Don’t apologize,” Varayana said. “It’s unseemly...and you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But…” Arjasoot stared at the tin cup in Varayana’s hands. “You’ve got too many troubles already,” they said. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my problems too....”

“What problem?” Varayana said, with mock surprise. “I saw a spiteful shrew speaking cruelly to my traveling companion, and felt the urge to shut her up.” She smiled at the smoke spirit, revealing pearl-white teeth that still glimmered with dew. “I was also thirsty.”

Arjasoot felt ash brimming in the corners of their eyes. “I––”

“Peace,” Varayana said, holding up her hand again. “No need for words.” She lay back against the prow of the reed boat, tucking one of her hands behind her head. “Morality, the justice of philosophy...I’ve been wrestled with these concepts all my life, but I’ve always managed to stand by two principles."

"Oh?" Arjasoot said."

Varayana raised one of her fingers. "My mother always told me to never let a cretin’s cruel words go unchallenged." She raised a second finger. "And when a villain threatens your friend, grab a weapon and chop their Devos-damned heads off." A sly smile crossed Varayana’s face. "Those were the words of my fathers."

“...they sound like interesting parents.,” Arjasoot said, feeling a knot unclench in the center of their being.

Next Chapter: Chapter Six