In the dark waters off the city of Rothmoor, a storm was in full force, a torrential downpour hammering against the water’s surface. Thunder cracked across the sky, splitting the night into violent bursts of light.


    Before that light show, it was easy to miss the growing presence of an emerald orb of magic. Slowly growing, it resolved into concentric circles rotating around each other. As the magic reached a crescendo, cracks formed through the glyphs that formed its structure. With a crack like thunder, it shattered like glass.


    From the center of the failing magic, a single yelp could be heard, as a thin figure fell from the sky into the waves with a splash, emerald shards of crystalized magic falling on all sides.


    Moments passed until she hit the surface with a gasp. Icy water dragged at her limbs while she struggled to breathe, pain echoing from her chest where she had impacted the water. She kicked instinctively, fighting against the current. Each wave shoved her under again, and she could still see the remnant glow of the magic that had brought her sinking into the depths of the bay, before she resurfaced again with a labored gasp for air.


    Her hair clung to her face, plastered to her skin as she kicked and paddled towards a distant shadow--—a dock? A boat? Her thoughts were becoming scattered in the chill and in the end, it didn’t matter; her vision narrowed to survival as her world became a matter of one strike, one kick after the other. She had to get out of the water. Figuring things out could come later.


    She kicked her feet desperately, old instincts moving her forward, but she could see that distant shadow was far away, further than her strength could carry her. Submerged by the waves again, she caught sight of one of the glowing emerald spans floating nearby. It hadn’t sunk like the rest of them, and she didn’t know why, but it was close enough to a plank of driftwood for her purposes.


    Fingers trembling with fatigue, she wrapped her arms around it, finding it to be solid and strangely frictionless. Hanging onto it was a struggle in the choppy waters, but she clutched it close to her as she tried to swim her way closer to safety. In the fugue of trying to survive, she didn’t notice the storm around the span had stilled. It raged on around her, but she found herself within a calm bubble that eased her progress, pulling her towards safety.


    After what felt like an eternity her fingers brushed against rough wood. The magic beneath her had been slowly dissipating beneath her, but it had held out just long enough. She reached up, nails digging into the damp planks as she hauled herself out of the water.


    Gasping for precious air, she collapsed onto the dock, her body trembling from both the cold and exhaustion. She was drenched, disoriented, and utterly alone. The last remnants of the magic speckled her skin like emerald gemstones, dissipating into the night sky.


    She rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky, where the storm raged in full fury. Lightning flashed, illuminating jagged clouds and the angry sea behind her. She wasn’t anywhere familiar, that much was certain. This wasn’t her home, and this was no ordinary storm.


    There was something else too, a strange feeling. She tried to remember where she had been before, but trying to remember made her heart pound in her chest, and her vision faded at the edges. She remembered being with someone, but the memory was hazy and indistinct. With a shiver, she came back to the present and remembered she had more pressing problems.


    She pulled herself up into a sitting position awkwardly, her hands shaking with fatigue and the cold. Looking down at herself, she could see that she was wearing a black, fitted outfit. She brushed the crimson locks from her face and frowned.


    With heavy eyelids, she cast around for anything to shake off the cold. Through the haze of rain and exhaustion, she spotted a small boathouse at the end of the dock, its door slightly ajar. She crawled, inch by inch, her soaked hands slipping against the wet planks as she made her way toward the boathouse.


    The wind howled louder, as if to make up for lost time since her reprieve during the desperate swim. Her vision darkened around the edges as she gulped in ragged breaths. When she reached the boathouse door, she collapsed against it, her strength nearly gone.


    With a trembling hand, she forced the door open wider and dragged herself inside. The air inside the boathouse was damp, but at least it was still. The dim light from outside barely penetrated the space, casting long shadows across the floor, but she could make out the vague shapes of fishing nets, crates, and a pile of old, torn sails.


    Her mind latched onto those sails with desperate clarity. It wasn’t much, but they might protect her from the cold long enough for her to gather her strength. Gritting her teeth, she crawled toward the pile of sails. Her hands fumbled numbly as she grabbed one, pulling it toward her. It was heavy with dampness and smelled of salt and mildew, but she didn’t care. Wrapping it around her shivering body, she huddled beneath its tattered folds.


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    The damp fabric clung to her skin, but it provided just enough warmth to stave off the worst of the cold. She curled into a tight ball, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she fought to stay conscious.


    The cold numbed her mind, dulling the sharp edges of her fear. She couldn’t think, couldn’t question it all now. She just needed to survive the night. Think about everything else later. Everything, every worry, faded from her mind as her thoughts stilled, allowing her ragged breaths to finally even out into the stillness of sleep.


    ?


    She found herself floating in a world of warmth, sunlight, and salt-kissed air. Her toes curled over the edge of polished wood, slick beneath her feet as the floor swayed gently beneath her.


    Her instincts kept trying to tell her something was wrong, but the water stretched out endlessly before her, glittering in the late afternoon sun, its surface shimmering with streaks of gold and deep blue. It was all so familiar. This place. This moment.


    The laughter of distance voices echoed somewhere behind her, but her focus was fixed on the water. For just a moment, the scent of sea spray mingled with the warmth of the sun on her skin, she felt like she could forget everything.


    “Hey, don’t take forever.”


    She turned her head to the sound of the voice, a smile already forming before she saw him. Leaning against the rail, his face half-obscured by the smoke of a cigarette he lazily held between his fingers. He was leaning casually, his shirt unbuttoned, hair tousled from the wind and salt. Despite the soft tone of his voice, his eyes were as she remembered them—cold, calculating.


    “You know I’m not going any faster if you keep rushing me,” she teased, her voice light as she pushed a strand of hair from her face.


    “Right. Because you need time to work up the nerve. As always.” He took a slow drag from the cigarette. He let the smoke curl from his lips before flicking the butt into the water with a casual toss.


    She turned back to the horizon. The sun was sinking lower, dipping toward the edge of the world, casting a fiery glow over everything. It glinted off the water, dazzling her as it hit her eyes.


    Taking a deep breath, she let herself fall forward, body arcing gracefully as she sliced through the air. The brief sensation of weightlessness filled her chest, that familiar thrill that made her feel like she was flying. She plunged beneath the surface, the water, closing over her head, muting the world above her.


    Chest burning with the need to breathe, she finally surfaced. Throwing her hair back, she paused. She caught her reflection in the water, not understanding who the stranger she saw was looking back.


    A shadow passed over her, blocking the sun. She turned to look back, but she was alone in an endless expanse of ocean. Storm clouds gathered over her head ominously, flashing with restrained violence. From beneath the water, she felt the tide catch her and pull her under.


    ?


    When morning came, it brought a strange stillness. The storm had passed, leaving the docks damp and slick with rainwater. She stirred to the sound of heavy footsteps, muffled by the sail wrapped around her. Her body was stiff and aching, every muscle sore from the previous night’s ordeal. The steady rhythm of rain had ceased, leaving the air cold and still, with only the occasional drip of water from the roof above. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she was disoriented, her memories fragmented and blending dream into reality.


    The footsteps grew louder, closer, accompanied by a low voice grumbling under its breath.


    She sat up slowly, blinking away the grogginess. The boathouse was dimly lit by the pale morning light filtering through cracks in the wood, and in her impaired state it didn’t occur to her to attempt to hide. As her vision cleared, she saw a figure standing in the open doorway, silhouetted by the dawn’s light.


    A man, broad-shouldered and rugged, wearing a heavy coat stained with seawater and mud stood in the doorway, a flabbergasted look on his face. His hair was thick and gray, a beard covering the lowered half of his weathered face. He paused, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and his eyes widened as they landed on her.


    “Well, I’ll be damned…” he muttered, his voice a rough, gravelly sound. He took a few cautious steps forward, eyeing her with a mixture of surprise and concern. “What in the gods’ names are you doin’ here, lass?”


    It took a moment for his words to seep into her cold-addled thoughts. She blinked, pulling the damp sail tighter around her shivering body. Her throat was dry, and her body was still chilled to the bone. All she could manage was a weak croak, “I–I fell…”


    His brow furrowed, and he crouched down in front of her, his face softening with a hint of sympathy. “Aye, looks like you’ve been through a storm an’ a half.” He glanced at the sail wrapped around her, shaking his head. “Storm like that, you’d be gone by morning if you’d stayed out in the open.”


    She could only nod weakly. He leaned back on his heels, studying her for a moment longer before extending his hand. “Name’s Baren,” he said. “I work the docks here. Looks like you need some proper warmth and food, not just an old sail.”


    He seemed genuine, his voice rough but kind, and she realized she didn’t have much of a choice, staring at his outstretched hand. She reached out, allowing him to help her to her feet. Her legs were unsteady, and she swayed for a moment before he steadied her with a firm grip.


    “Easy now, lass,” he said. “You’re in rough shape.”


    She looked down at herself, realizing just how ragged she must have seemed.


    “Here, slip on my jacket over yourself, it’ll stave off the cold better than that slip of a thing,” he said, slipping the jacket off his shoulders and passing it to her.


    She wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. It was much too large for her, but it retained his warmth, and she pulled it tight in front of her.