Introduction: Understanding

“The ocean. Yar, she's a harsh mistress to us all. Both the curse and the blessing of yer fellow man, offering her beauty, and endless freedoms to them, or at least to those who would accept her.
Aye... But upon her bosom lies the very essence of man's greatest fear, death itself...”

~Rogue Captain, Sorvad Maelith of the “Bramian C.S., Scourge of the Navy”


Prologue: Understanding

'Twas a blackened sunset on the day young Damian first set foot onto the shores of his hometown. For years, he had feared the ocean and her might, but today he was in the company of some particularly persuasive classmates. In spite of his better judgement, Damian's weak constitution and willingness to do anything for the acceptance of his peers allowed him to be coerced into being more bold than usual.

“Hey, Anthony, look out there!” One of the students, a husky, brown haired lad among the bunch shouted.

“What... What's that? C'mon, let's go get a better view from that deck!” imposed an excited Anthony, a somewhat short member of the group in response. Along with two other students, Damian, Anthony and their portly acquaintance made their way towards the steps of this makeshift port. The old, moisture-stricken wood creaked beneath their dress-code clods, and the moaning of an age-worn boat tied to the port could be heard, as the waters beneat shifted in sync with the group's steps.

Immediately after setting foot on the edge of the deck, Damian's eye's plastered themselves to the surrounding environs. His youthful, turquoise eyes remained peeled as they took in the sight of the sea's shimmering water. The deep, wide blue set before him remained stagnant, so much so that they seemed the playing grounds to the Gods who had grown tired of the earthly norms. The sun had set more rapidly than usual on this calm, summery evening, leaving the darkening night sky to be illuminated by several, insignificant stars. Clustering together, they seemed to work together in order to compensate for the absence of their celestial, spherical maiden.

Perhaps, then, it was because of Damian's sense of naivete- always expecting the best out of his peers, regardless of their pasts and the natures they imposed. Or, maybe it was due to his infatuation with the scenery of likes which he'd never seen before, leaving him entranced. No matter the circumstance, however, the result remained the same. As he seemed oblivious during the first movement, while his torso shifted abnormally towards the waters before him, his legs buckled under the pressure. With his feet no longer anchoring him to the decrepit deck, Damian's childish frame glided steadily towards the still seas.

However, as the beauty which captivated him was replaced by the sight of his own reflection in the water, sudden realization struck Damian like a gavel to the sternum. Noticing just before he plunged, Damian was just capable of looking behind him to watch as his assaulters retrieved their hands, laughing almost feverishly while the child's visage grew deep with the fear of his situation. Before he could scream, however, Damian found himself submerged and struggling to reach the surface.

Two of the students watched silently, perhaps empathizing with their classmate's fear as they knew Damian had never learned to swim. They stared as Anthony and his large accomplice beamed with success; after all, they were the first two to officially prank the class shy guy. Everyone walked to their homes, barely even noticing Damian's muffled gasps for air as they were drowned out by the agitated waters.

...Granted, the waters were only three meters deep by definition. To Damian at a height of only one, however, they seemed trenches which would lead towards the endless depths of hell itself. He tried desperately, kicking and clawing towards the surface, but the waters of the tevarian coast were known for being notoriously light saltwaters, and while very convenient for filtering in order to drink them, they lacked the density to suspend Damian's body. The breath was stolen from the lad's lungs, as he inhaled increasingly dangerous amounts of the coast's supply. Thoughts of death accumulated in his mind, and the seconds began to feel like hours while he was forced to reflect on the short time he had lived on this mortal plane.

But then, just as Damian was approaching the precipice of his dire circumstance, a tug. A splintered board, one from what seemed a small raft, hooked itself to the fabric of his slacks and pulled him to shore. Damian drifted along with this envoy from the Gods, and crawled onto the sandy coast, gasping for air and yelping in pain as his blood pumped vigorously through his oxygen-exhausted body. This was in vain, however, as the child could do little more than cough up a combination of saltwater, spittle, and blood. Just as he began plummeting towards the ground, his sight returned only long enough for him to notice the silhouette of a person lying on the raft before him. The pain tore at him too much, however, and he fainted on the sands.

Hours passed, the tides pushing the boy back and forth, but no one arrived..

Lifeless, the child's frame laid as if to complement the debris and rocks scattered about the coast.

Then, a tugging feeling. Damian felt as though he were in a dream, the tides whisking him off into the ocean and beyond the horizon.

“Ae'curo tet, masuph deluro, masuph.” The waves whispered to the young lad with a gentle tone. Perhaps this was a calming melody? It sounded as such, but the rhythm seemed more akin to a chant. 'A... woman's voice? Like a mother... the soothing, warm presence, it's reverberating into my core... Maybe this is the voice of the ocean?'

Damian dreamt of these things, but suddenly, there was no more. The voice of the ocean came to a halt, and next thing he knew, the boy had awoken! His sight was too impaired as he recovered to comprehend what had splashed onto the sand next to him, but he felt as though he were lighter. His pain seemed anesthetized to the pain which had burdened him previously, and he felt almost... comfortable.

The clouds in his vision waned, only for him to witness a young woman breathing heavily on her knees beside him. Her face seemed flushed, and the ragged, inconsistent breathes complemented this in its entirety.

She offered her hand to Damian, trying to speak to him, but to no avail. She gagged, and spat up several ounces of blood before falling to her hands, reconciling with the fatigue which seemed to burden her. She gathered her senses and sat, resting for several minutes as she stared into the cloudless nigh sky...

Damian's curiosity was peaked by piqued by this stranger, but only for a moment before he attempted to sit up. A splitting pain ran the length of the left side of his torso, and he looked down in agony to notice a massive, red-lined scar reaching from his hip to his heart. It was as if the skin had been seared together, but the child didn't understand...

As the woman rested, he laid back down and tried to recall; the boys, how they pushed him, the tides pressing down on his frame as he began to lose consciousness, and then...

He recalled the wood getting caught on his slacks, but just after that a... tearing, of sorts. “Th-The... board... must have cut me...” Damian thought aloud, his breaths even more ragged than the young woman's.

Damian gathered his energy, and attempted to get up again. Before he could manage, however, the young woman noticed and jumped from her position, lunging towards him in a single elegant, and fearsomely quick motion. She pinned him down by his shoulders, and it was in that moment that Damian finally took note of his company.

“Don't... do... that.....” She muttered, melancholic with the pain which her reaction cost her. Her hands seemed to shiver with several weak spasms, and she could barely control her movements as she struggled to keep conscious.

Her skin seemed bleached, pale from her fatigue, yet she still radiated an awe-inspiring strength in spite of it. Her features displayed an artistic grace underneath the moonlight, that of which Damian had never seen in the woman of his village. She seemed almost inhuman in her perfection, as if the Gods had sculpted her entire being with divine scrutiny. The young man was speechless, unable to understand the sight before him. In his early pubescence, his heart beat excitedly with both fear, and a feeling which he had not felt before.

No time was spared to ponder this grace, though, as the woman no longer felt the strength to keep herself held upright. She let out a few breaths as her arms shook violently before her energy was all but exhausted, and she collapsed. Damian braced for the impact, but when she landed, the force wasn't even enough to cause pain in his side.

“How... how can someone of her size be so... light?” Damian thought to himself, and he immediately covered his mouth without realizing that he hadn't thought out loud. The idea of bringing up a woman's size haunted him after a rather rude comment during his village's annual fair gave him the pleasure of being scolded for nearly an hour, and he felt it wise not to cross into that territory again for the rest of his natural-born life.

After regaining his composure, Damian studied the situation. Under normal circumstances, carrying someone as light as this young lady into town just under a kilometer away would be no issue for him; in spite of the many flaws it heralded, pubescence had proven a miracle for the boy's weak stature. However, with the wound he suffered and his lack of strength, there was no way he'd be able to walk, let alone do the walking for another. “And... I can't... just lie here... Wh-What... what if mother finds me?”

Damian looked at the young woman's pale face, and he blushed in kind. The scenario did, indeed, look extremely shifty from his vantage point, let alone from the view of someone who didn't see the events which preceded it. After all, the sight of a young man, unmoving on a beach with a fair young maiden overlaying him was not something his mother would enjoy explaining to the locals!

These thoughts culminated in Damian's mind, leaving him worried as he laid on the finely ground sand. In his current state, however, even thinking fatigued the lad, and as the last remaining questions fluttered throughout his mind, trying desperately to make themselves known, it was to no avail. Exhausted of all his energy, Damian faded from consciousness along with his company.

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Awoken, Damian found himself surrounded by the things he'd usually expect with dawn's arrival. A gaslamp sat upon the oak nightstand just to the left of his bed, as well as a small notebook which he'd been using to chronicle those situations which occurred daily. The regular, cotton-padded mattress supported him, and covering him was a blandly colored sheet. Just a regular morning, it seemed.

“Was that... a dream?” The boy pondered, as he thought of the transgressions of the previous night in his state of half-sleep. However, when he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and began to sit up, a sharp pain in his left side restricted him. Damian looked down to look, praying that it was just coincidence, and let loose a sigh of relief as he noticed only a small chicken scratch at the midriff of his side. “The pain must've just been psychological,” He thought, and justly so. It was... unusual, not a pain which pulsed, reacted, nor consistently remained, but rather it had shot once and suddenly, it was gone.

After a moment of thought, Damian just dismissed it with his thought of coincidence, and got out of bed. He stood with no difficulty, dressed as he normally would, and took note of the trivial day-to-day tasks which laid before him before heading to the kitchen. On his way out, he grabbed his notebook, eager to document such a lucid illusion during his morning meal.

Damian approached the stairwell leading to the kitchen downstairs, convinced of the normality of his morning. As he approached it, though, he found walking to be more and more strenuous, his lungs demanding increasing amounts of air, craving it in spite of the vast quantity surrounding him! The hallway appeared to shrink, and as he approached the final steps of the stairwell, Damian panicked as his vision began to cloud.

He tried to run the remainder of the distance, just a mere 4 feet from the stairwell to the kitchen. “Mother... Mother!” He cried towards the opening, which seemed to creep away as he ran. The pain in his side reemerged, more impressive than before, and searing now as if the boy's very blood were at a boil. His heartbeat quickened, pounding in his chest so strongly that it rang from his ears to the very edge of his toes. The pain spread throughout his body... The searing in his feet made the wood paneling beneath him feel like the sulfur encrusted terrain surrounding a freshly erupted volcano, with the pain in his head spreading to his eyes... his ears... his mouth even began to taste of iron.

Damian collapsed to the floor. His feet now heavy with fatigue, as his skin began to feel like scales of metal while he tried pushing himself back up. With no energy, he was forced to the ground once more, and within the moment, he could no longer breathe. His lungs burned agonizingly, as if they were screaming for mercy as they were followed by an orchestra of other organs, chiming in tandem with each other. It was all the boy could do to muster what little strength he had, scraping the floorboards with blooded fingers, doing all he could to bring himself to his destination. He had just barely crawled to the edge of the doorway, just enough to see inside the kitchen when his body had reached it's limit. Nearly mort by this point, Damian made one final effort to look into the kitchen with hopes of some form of salvation from his agony. What laid before him, though, was not that which he had hoped...

Damian looked upon the slender, fairly tall frame of a woman. Silken, brown hair flowed down, lazily parting at her shoulders to the length of her upper back. Some of it seemed to lay in a coarse fashion, as the rest simply dropped as if in a droll of boredom. The young woman turned her face, and in her light-blue eyes, even the dim light of morning reflected strongly.

“You... You're that lady from before!” Damian wanted to exclaim, but even the thought of blurting like that exhausted much of what little fire there seemed to be left keeping him conscious. In what seemed his last moments, the woman turned around entirely, exposing something completely different. As she turned, her face became ashen as the brown locks which flowed down her back grew pale, only to burn to nothingness. The indifferent expression in her blue eyes turned to one of rage, as they turned a shade of fiery red. The rest of her being followed in this demonic transformation, leaving nothing left of the young woman in its wake.

Not even the screech of this fell creature, however, could impact Damian quite like the other sight beside it. His blood pulsed violently, his eyes seemingly trying to beat out of his head with the pain as he convulsively threw up on the floor in front of him. His fear drowned what little hope he had as, before him, laid a shy, limp body, now exposed by this beast from hell. The frame of a middle-aged woman, with curly blonde locks, small hands, and... eyes of...

“M... Mother...!” Damian tried to scream, but could only let out a weak whisper. He approached the final moments of his consciousness, but the sight instilled itself within his thoughts. It was as though, in the midst of this nightmare, the Gods felt it justifiable to stamp out the remaining flame of Damian's very purpose in existence. He looked onward, burning tears of blood almost blocking his sight, yet leaving just enough space for him to see this... horror. He cursed himself over his inability to act, dying little by little inside as the creature leaned down to devour this helpless woman. Flailing limbs and the blooded silhouette of his mother accompanied her piercing screams, haunting the boy. The blood in his vision finally clouded all he could see, as he laid, now entirely lifeless, and faded into nothing...

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“M...MOTHER!”
...Damian's distressed voice echoed through the open beach, awakening his companion. The young woman looked to him, but in spite of the nightmares plaguing him and his shivering, he remained fast asleep.

“No surprise I suppose, after what he's been through...” The woman thought. It seemed to require almost no effort as she rose to sit gracefully, and silently so-as not to disturb Damian. Mumbling under her breath, she strung together a series of incomprehensible phrases melodiously, like a mother continuing to sing a lullaby to an infant after its fallen asleep. Reaching out to the boy's forehead and the scar on his side, a fountain of light poured from her fingertips onto his skin. The tissue around the scar regained its color while, beneath the surface, the muscles and nerve endings rearranged themselves. Skin cells reproduced significantly faster then usual, and within a period of two minutes, it was if Damian had never been cut at all. As the light made contact with his head, Damian's shivering ceased as he was calmed, somewhat, mentally. A dark blue fountain replaced the bright, soothing light as it flowed back towards the woman's hands.

As the stream approached its final seconds, the woman's left arm began to spasm, and she withdrew it immediately to cradle her temple as it pounded furiously. “E... Eure-” She spoke, unintentionally. Realizing the reality of her situation, she bit her lip and endured the pain so that the child before her could rest.
“That... what could this mean?” She thought to herself. She discarded the thought, however, for her attention was required elsewhere. “I need to return him... There must be some type of village nearby.”

Seeing as Damian was fast asleep, the young woman gathered her bearings and hoisted him up to her shoulders, carrying him as if he were but a babe. Her strength seemed to come from nothing considering her size, and with the fatigue she expressed after healing her companion's wounds, her energy was nothing short of miraculous. She gulped air as if she had just run a marathon, yet her posture failed to falter so much as once. Tall and strong, she hauled the adolescent in the direction of the moon, letting it light her way as it waned into the distance.

After nearly a mile hike along the shore, she had nearly given up on the direction she was headed before coming across the first lamp post lighting the way towards the town of Tevar. The light shone brightly onto Damian's face, waking him from his nightmare, and immediately he let go of the woman's shoulders to clench his side. Nearly screaming from the pain, Damian tried to bite his lip to keep from attracting attention at such an early hour, but in his attempt, he mistakenly bit his tongue out of sheer anxiety. The blood poured sporadically, spraying the woman's green-brown cloak and mixing the hues; a wildfire in the midst of a forest emerged, scaring the spastic child even further. Seizing from the shock, Damian flung himself from his entourage's back, gurgling screams as he continued trying to hold his side with convulsive hands. The blood flowed endlessly, decorating the grass and dirt at the start of the trail as his body shook and rolled uncontrollably on the ground. He was at his limit, nearly blacking out from the loss of blood.

The young woman was already on the move the moment the boy began to act, though. In but a moment of sheer, fluid motion, she tore off her stained cloak and had it wrapped around Damian's midriff with the expertise of a practiced nurse. The pressure eased his pain, allowing him to regain some composure as the woman unfastened a crimson colored band from her wrist. Placing it on the ground before her, she carved a perfect circle nearly a meter wide out of an alien language around both it and a small pool of spilled blood, managing this within less then half a minute. Immediately after, she spoke again in her foreign tongue, tracing the circle with her eyes as she spoke. Her left arm extended behind her, raising slightly up as she extended her right arm towards Damian's mouth, leaving her fingertips hovering just above his face.

“Please... Remain still...” She whispered, exhausted. She closed her eyes, and as she sat there, the air seemed to reverberate unusually. The pools of crimson surrounding the two seemed to react in kind, as Damian's blood lifted itself from the ground and the woman's cloak, completely clear of debris. It flowed slowly towards her left hand, into the palm which she now cupped gently. The liquid traveled down her arms, hovering just above her skin as it rounded her neck and over her right arm. Ending at the the tip of her right hand, it adorned a light similar to that of the healing fountain she had used earlier, and flowed into the open wound on Damian's tongue. The boy's heart stopped for several seconds as the final drops of blood seeped into the wound, and as it finished, the perforation sealed itself.

As his heart restarted, The blood coursed vigorously throughout Damian's body, almost punching its way through his veins. The events transpiring left him with a tiring migraine, causing him to faint again beneath the lamp post. His caretaker breathed a heavy sigh of relief and fatigue, and replaced the band which now sat, completely gray before her. Her expression filled with melancholy as she realized the task set before her was now that much more difficult, but some joy shone through her eyes with the savior of the young man before her. After stretching for the journey ahead, she hoisted Damian up yet again.

“... Eu cra'iken torles maneste, tolph...” She sighed, shaking her head before she looked to her carrion and smiling slightly. As they approached the small town at the end of the road, however, she was left awestruck. While the sight of dirt roads, cabins, and small huts didn't particularly phase her, the sheer abundance of the town's populace made her feel somewhat alienated. To her, the submissiveness of nature's bounty wasn't something to be taken lightly, but it seemed as though man had overrun the earth before her, forcing it to contour to their wills, rather than coexisting with it in a civilized manner.

Remembering the current situation requiring her attention, however, the woman shook off her anxiety, and walked amidst the humble village's residences. She came across a small, wooden bench before a tavern, and the fatigue which she had shrugged off till now overcame her. She sat Damian down before taking her seat, and thoughtfully held her chin as she looked towards the reddening skies, colored crimson with the prospect of an impending dawn. Before she realized, her eyelids grew heavy as what little energy she had left dwindled. She fought to stay conscious and wait for the village's citizenry to awaken, but to no avail as she passed out, resting on Damian's shoulder.

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Heavy eyelids parted after a dreamless night, as the sun waned in the distance. The adolescent looked to the west and the sun, now a passive orange in its setting as it approached the final hours of the day's light. Damian began to sit up, anxious after waking up midway through the afternoon, only to realize the familiar cushioning of his mattress. He froze, sheer terror filling his eyes as he looked towards the notebook atop the nightstand to his left and then, reluctantly, to his left side. He lifted his nightwear shirt slowly, but stopped midway, closing his eyes to the possibility of a nightmare repeated. For upwards of half an hour, Damian remained in a stiff fetal position upon his bed, refusing to let himself see the horrors a second time, and uncertain if he could withstand another, similar sight while retaining his sanity...

Suddenly, a voice echoed from the foot of the stairwell, its impact so strong that tears began to well up in the young man. Nostalgia broke the chain which bound him to his fears, and answered the prayers which he had, so silently, hoped for.

“Honey, I may be able to make a great hot-meal but if you don't wake up soon, I'm afraid the Winter chill's going to take your lunch hostage!”

That dry, lovable humor... His mother's voice... Damian sobbed, as his tears left a salty taste on his tongue. For several minutes, the emotions welling up inside him made it difficult to determine whether he was smiling, or if he just felt that he was. Regaining his composure, he left his sanctuary and knelt beside his bed, his hands clasped in prayer; “God, please give me the strength to protect that which is most precious to me. Please...” He thought back on his nightmare, hoping to spite it from becoming reality, “I owe her that much, at the least. Keep her in your loving graces, amen.”

Barely containing himself, Damian's words rang truer in his head with each passing second. He dressed in his weekend attire, and ecstatically rushed down the stairs, inhaling the warm, Summer air with the gusto of a man free of all his burdens and regrets. His notebook in hand to chronicle the passing whims and thoughts over the past night, he mistakenly ran into the door frame face first in excitement and fell backwards, holding his forehead and accompanying the feeling with a series of “Ow”s and groans. When he opened his eyes, however, the ecstasy rushed from his body as they widened, refusing to close him off from the sight that awaited at the dining table.

Long, brown hair brimmed with a golden effect in the evening sun's light, and the young woman peeked over to the young man sitting, dumbfounded on the floor before turning back to her meal. Damian's previous fear returned, if but for a moment, and left him in a state of shock over the events that would take place.

… But, something seemed different in this scene. Maybe it was the calm air flowing through the open window, or the scent of freshly made stew and potatoes wafting through the kitchen doorway. His eyes affixed themselves to the young woman, and took in every detail they could, scrutinizing her until she looked towards him again. Damian understood the situation, and blushed heavily as he looked away within that instant, but the woman sitting at the table remained indifferent to his presence. Perhaps not an aura of maleficence, he thought, but maybe...

“Grace?” He spoke, somewhat softly before realizing he had spoken aloud, and covered his mouth. The silent performer grabbing his attention paid the comment no heed, and was overtaken on the stage as she returned to eating while another took her place.

“That was quite a splendid first impression, young man! I can see many opportunities available for your future love life if you can keep this track record alive!” Followed by a chuckle in self-confidence, Damian's mother walked over to her exasperated son and reached a hand out to him.

“M... Mom!” Damian's cracked voice jumped out to combat the observation, but tripped over its own feet. He regained his composure somewhat as he grasped his mother's hand, standing himself up clumsily as he spoke with quite a bit of angst. “W-wait, what's happening here exactly?! Has... has anything happened? Is everything alright!?”

“Well now, aren't you lively this afternoon? I imagine it's because of all that extra sleep during the daytime, maybe you're just trying to compensate for all that idleness, mister!” She retorted excitedly, not even taken aback by Damian's sudden outburst.

“Bu... Wait, that doesn't answer my question! What on Earth is going on here?! Who...” His voice softened to a whisper as he hid his face shamefully from the stranger eating lunch. “Who... is she?”

“Well now, I was just about to get to that, actually!” She spoke, completely disregarding the silence which Damian hoped to retain for the matter. “And by the looks of things, we're having luncheon during a calm afternoon, were you expecting something else? I was just pulling your leg with that talk of having it freeze over, you know, that'd be ridiculous!”

The only appropriate response to this dry humor that the adolescent could consider was a dumbfounded slap, open palmed to his face. He dragged his hand down as he sighed, and accepted the blessing of this somewhat normal morning. Approaching the table with his mother's coaxing, Damian couldn't help but gaze at the strange woman before his eyes. It was almost unsettling... the sophisticated etiquette with which she ate, her complete indifference to everything around her in spite of such an unusual impression, but most of all was the simple fluidity in even the most basic of her actions. It was as if everything was predetermined, or scripted for this actor from the heavens, and everything she did was meant to be done with an absolute sense of perfection. As she placed her spoon, perfectly in its appropriate position, and grabbed her fork, gliding it to the potatoes just beside it, Damian was reminded of the ocean, how it swayed and acted in accordance with its own will. This woman... wasn't performing these actions, but rather, they were performing themselves FOR her, as if her will were instilled inside everything she acted upon, and brought them to life for the sake of serving her purposes. It was entrancing just to see her eat a simple meal, and made the uncoordinated young man wonder if this was simply how everything came to her.

Time seemed to stop, if for only a moment as their eyes made contact while he sat at the table. Both fear and excitement were enthralled to this stranger's gaze, as if she was staring right down to Damian's core. Was this some type of witchcraft? Was he simply influenced by her appearance? His mind rushed with these unanswered questions, and in reflection, he began to wonder, was this woman some type of demonic being? Or, just maybe...

“Angel...” He spoke softly, and again nervously covered his mouth. Damian's mother watched her son's adolescent years taking their toll, and laughed softly in her attempts to prevent him from suffering more embarrassment. She thought on this decision for a split-second, however, and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to test the extent of his mettle.

“So, my dear! I was just getting to telling you my name, my friends prefer to call me Alicia, and this young man here is my reliable little boy, Damian!” She was unable to contain the smirk crossing her lips, though the young woman seemed unaffected by the statement.

Damian, however was having significantly more trouble with keeping his composure. He looked down and blushed heavily. How much worse could first impressions become, he wondered in his embarrassment. He looked towards the sly smirk that his mother wore, and with all his power, tried to regain his composure and avoid defeat.

Her next strike was fatal, however. “You know, Damian, you and this beautiful young lady here were caught sleeping together on the bench just outside the tavern. The neighbors had to wake her up and guide her here just so she could get a good night's rest without completely overturning your childhood!”

… He never stood a chance, Damian bit his lip to keep from succumbing to the blows that were mercilessly dealt, as this contender reminisced over the night before. “My, my... You are coming of age, after all, and I imagine that Gregor would've been quite lenient to letting you take advantage of the situation. I'm just glad that it wasn't any of the children... Or worse! Had any of the women in town seen you in such a state, I'm certain word would have spread about my son, the under aged heretic within the hour! The church might have burned our possessions, such scary thoughts! Well, at the least, it was Antoine that...”

She continued, uninhibited by the pleas of mercy in her son's expression, yet the young woman didn't seem phased in the slightest. Progressively, she ate the luncheon before her without deviating from her proper etiquette, leaving Alicia with a sour look of disappointment.

“... Well, let's be thankful you two are alright. It would have been a REAL trouble had anything significant actually happened. By the looks of things, neither of you two are harmed or... compromised.” She let out another quick, cheerful chuckle in Damian's direction before continuing, “But! I digress, for my son to be found in the company of most people is a joyful sight...” Her expression turned reminiscent, as she smiled slightly. “Thank you for taking care of him, I apologize if our family's put a burd-”

“No. I'm sorry, this entire situation is my responsibility for being so reliant on someone I'd just come across by some twist of fate...” Damian's composure resurfaced, as he looked towards the stranger with a somewhat sorrowful expression. “Thank you. You saved me... not only once, but twice, if that wasn't all just some dream...”

Damian's appreciation managed to dent the young woman's composure, even if only a little. Taken aback for just a couple of seconds, her eyes closed as she smiled at the young man, seemingly relieved with his remembrance of the previous night, she spoke softly, yet clearly. “I'm... glad that... you're alright...” She seemed to struggle slightly with her context, yet her words sent a shiver down Damian's back. The serenity in her speech left him almost breathless, so he simply continued, watching and listening to his savior in silence.
“S'ett mau det arial?” She spoke again after nearly half a minute of silence, surprising Alicia with the nonsensical language that she'd spoken in.

“Hmm... I see. English isn't your primary language, is it?” Alicia sighed with some content over her guest's earlier silence. “It's alright, you don't have to force yourself to speak quickly. I'm sorry if you're having difficulty understanding us.”

The young woman seemed somewhat disheartened by her lack of coherence, but tried to explain her situation regardless. “I... can absorb. Your memory... of your... language? Please don't worry...” Her speech grew progressively smoother as she continued, though her statement left her audience in a slight state of shock.

Damian was the first to respond. “I see... That's quite a talent!” The young woman smiled slightly at this remark, relieved that her hosts weren't frightened by her statement. Damian's nerves overcame him again, however, and he entered a state of speechlessness in front of his guest yet again.

“Alright! Well, maybe we can help the process. If you continue speaking and listening to us, maybe it'll help you understand us more effectively.” Alicia became ecstatic with the new prospect before her, and took a seat between the two young adults. “So... If you can, maybe you could start off with your name and where you're from? Knowing how you ended up in our obscure little town might help us with getting you back to where you left off.”

For a moment, their guest looked down with a melancholic expression, as she spoke under her breath, "But... This place shouldn't exist to begin with, so... why...?"

"What's wrong, dear?" Alicia interrupted, unable to understand what was said. Her statement abruptly stopped the young woman's concentration, leaving her somewhat shaken. Alicia took note of her reaction, "Oh, I'm sorry! Please, take your time, we'll be here to listen."

The young woman held her hand thoughtfully on her chin for a moment, before beginning her tale. With a disheartened expression, she spoke in the same, serene voice, “My name... is Nephiri D'Selth Inaris, and... I originally came from a desert town... known as Arcana.”