They tore down the dim hallway, Lysa gripping Aira with one hand and Cid with the other. The lanterns swung overhead, scattering long, trembling shadows along the walls. The ship creaked beneath them.
Cid whispered, "Three guards at the next turn."
"How do you-"
"I hear the metal on their boots."
Lysa's heart lurched.
They turned around the corner...
And there they were.
Three guards stood by the stairwell, spears slung lazily over their shoulders. Their eyes sharpened immediately.
"Lysa," the tallest one frowned. "Where are you going with the girl? ...and the blind one?"
Aira stiffened. Cid stood completely still, unreadable.
Lysa forced her voice steady.
"I was summoned," she said sharply. "The Pope requested Aira immediately. And the boy... he needs to guide us."
"Guide?" the guard blinked. "Does the Pope want to guide you to darkness? Your guide can't see!"
He laughed.
Lysa stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a holy secret.
"Yes," she hissed. "And that's exactly why the Pope wants him."
That made the guards freeze.
"He… wants the blind one?" the second guard asked, suddenly unsure.
She nodded, turning her fear into authority.
"You know the stories," she whispered. "The ancestors speak best to those who do not see. Or do you want to question the Pope's orders yourself?"
The guards exchanged terrified glances.
The Pope was unpredictable. Dangerous. None of them wanted to be the one to defy him.
The tall guard straightened. "No, no. Of course not. Go on."
Lysa bowed her head dramatically. "Blessings of the ancestors upon you."
The guards stepped aside immediately.
Cid let out a small breath of relief.
Aira stared at her mother in disbelief.
When did she become… that?Manipulative. Sharp. Smart. Desperate.
They hurried down the staircase.
They reached the storage bay. The smell of old wood and seawater hit them immediately. Lamps flickered weakly, illuminating stacks of rotting nets and broken crates. And at the far end they saw a canoe.
Lowered halfway by Lysa earlier, rope still swaying, waiting.
Cid ran his fingers along the wall, mentally mapping the room.
"We need to move fast. Someone's awake on the upper deck."
"How do you know?" Aira asked.
"I can hear them breathing."
Aira swallowed.
Lysa grabbed the rope again, muscles trembling. "Help me."
Cid positioned himself at the pulley. "I can feel the mechanism. I'll do the pulling."
"Cid—" Aira whispered.
"I'm blind, not weak."
A faint smile touched her lips through the fear.
While lowering the boat, Aira kept stealing glances at her mother.
The same mother who slapped her hours ago…Who said she hated her…Who called her a curse…Who blamed her for a father she never knew.
Why now? Why save me? Why risk everything?
The question burned in her chest like fire.
Lysa felt Aira's stare but didn't meet her eyes. Her jaw was clenched, her breathing unsteady, her hands shaking every time she touched the rope.
She looked terrified. Not angry. Not hateful. Terrified.
Aira stepped closer.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
Lysa didn't answer at first. She just gripped the rope tighter.
Then, voice cracked...
"I don't want to be the woman who abandoned her daughter."
Aira's breath caught.
For a moment, the world felt too quiet.
Lysa blinked rapidly, fighting tears.
"I don't expect forgiveness," she whispered.
She stared at the waters below.
"But I will not lose you the way I lost him."
Aira's mouth parted in shock.
Cid kept lowering the boat, silent but listening.
Lysa continued, almost choking.
"I screamed at you because… you look like him. The man I loved. The man who left. The man who lied. Every time I look at you, I remember what I lost," A long breath. "But that is not your fault."
Aira felt her chest tighten painfully.
The canoe touched the water with a quiet splash.
Lysa finally turned to Aira.
And for the first time in years she didn't look angry. She looked wounded.
"I didn't save you because I loved you. I saved you because leaving you behind would've made me a monster."
Aira's eyes shimmered. She didn't answer. She simply stepped into the canoe.
Cid touched Lysa's shoulder gently. "They're coming," he murmured.
Footsteps. Armored boots. Quick. Heavy. Approaching the bay.
Lysa's eyes widened.
"No more time."
Cid grabbed the side rope. Together they climbed into the canoe.
Above them, the footsteps reached the hallway.
"Hey—who's down there?!"
Lysa shoved the canoe away from the ship and they fell into the open sea.
"HEYY!! Voyagers!! Report to the Pope! They are leaving the ship."
After a while.
A bell suddenly clanged - once, twice, then a rapid sequence.
"The Pope, Aira, Lysa and the blind boy are missing!"
"The side gate is open!"
"SEARCH EVERY CORNER!"
Boots thundered through the halls. Doors slammed. Torches flared.
But no matter where they looked, No matter how many rooms they forced open. The Pope was nowhere to b
Nor were the two children. Nor the sharp-eyed girl who always walked too quietly.
The cathedral shook with chaos and shouting.