On the morning of departure, I woke before dawn, though sleep had barely touched me through the night. The air felt different, heavier somehow, as though the island itself understood that something was shifting. When I descended the stairs, I found only Mother waiting at the table.
The lantern beside her burned low, casting soft light across her face.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she stood and crossed the room, pulling me into a tight embrace before I could say anything. Her arms wrapped around me with a firmness that carried both pride and fear. I felt her steady breathing against my shoulder and understood how difficult this moment was for her.
"Mum," I said gently, "I am only going for a week."
"I know," she replied quietly, though her voice betrayed more than she intended. She stepped back just enough to look at me properly. "Have you packed everything? Sword, gun, ammunition?"
"Yes, Mum. Everything is ready."
She studied me for another moment before nodding slowly.
"Where is Lio?" I asked.
She exhaled.
"He is in his room," she said. "He is upset that he is not allowed to come."
I frowned slightly.
"That is not like him," I murmured. Lio rarely sulked quietly; he usually protested loudly and dramatically. Still, I chose not to press the matter. If he needed to burn through his frustration alone, I would allow him that dignity.
Together, we walked toward the eastern dock. The early morning light spread across the water in pale streaks, and the silhouette of our vessel stood anchored and ready. The crew was already assembled, moving with purpose rather than chaos, securing supplies and checking ropes one final time.
The ship waited.
Mother and I stopped at the edge of the dock.
She reached for me again, pulling me into one final embrace.
"Return," she said simply.
"I will," I answered.
I boarded the ship without looking back immediately, though I felt her gaze follow every step.
Once on deck, I joined Bren near the starboard side as the crew prepared for departure. Marina was overseeing sail adjustments, her voice calm and precise as she issued instructions. Simon stood near the supply crates, checking inventory one final time.
Bren glanced toward the dock.
"Are you sure Lio is not coming to say goodbye?" he asked.
Before I could answer, a faint scraping sound reached my ears.
It came from behind a stack of sealed cargo barrels near the stern.
The sound was subtle, but it did not belong.
In that instant, understanding settled into place.
I turned my head slowly and met Mother's gaze across the distance. She was still standing at the dock, watching.
I made a small, deliberate hand signal.
Her eyes narrowed.
She understood.
Anger flared briefly in her expression, and I could see she was about to shout, but I quickly signaled again, subtly indicating that I would handle it and that she should remain silent.
After a tense moment, she exhaled sharply and crossed her arms instead.
I turned toward the barrels.
"Bren," I said calmly, "continue preparations."
He followed my gaze and smirked slightly as realization dawned.
I walked toward the stacked cargo.
"Come out," I said evenly.
There was a brief pause.
Then one of the barrels shifted slightly, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone trying and failing to remain quiet.
A familiar head of hair emerged slowly from behind the crates.
Lio.
He attempted a grin.
"I was going to say goodbye," he began weakly.
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
"From inside a cargo stack?"
He hesitated.
"…Surprise?"
Behind me, Bren struggled not to laugh.
From the dock, Mother did not move, though I could practically feel the intensity of her glare from across the water.
The little devil had done exactly what Faresh once accused him of.
He had snuck onto the ship.
For a moment, I simply closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath, trying to prevent the headache I could already feel forming. Of course he had done this. Of course he would not simply sit in his room and sulk like a normal younger brother.
Across the dock, Mother stood with her arms folded tightly. I met her gaze and gave a small nod.
"I will take care of him," I called out calmly. "Let him learn how tough sailing really is."
She did not respond immediately. I could see the battle in her expression—the instinct to protect him wrestling with the knowledge that sheltering him forever would accomplish nothing.
After a long moment, she gave a reluctant nod.
That was all the permission I needed.
Lio, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with triumph. He scrambled fully out from behind the barrels and began hopping excitedly from foot to foot.
"I knew you wouldn't leave me behind!" he declared.
Before he could continue celebrating, I reached forward and caught him by the ear, twisting it just enough to remind him that victory had limits.
"You will listen to every command I give," I said quietly but firmly. "At all times. If you disobey even once, I will personally throw you into the ocean."
His expression shifted instantly from excitement to alarm.
"I will listen!" he insisted, trying to pry my fingers from his ear. "I promise! I promise!"
Only when I was satisfied did I release him.
Bren shook his head, barely suppressing a grin. Marina watched the exchange with measured amusement, though I could tell she was already recalculating crew distribution in her mind to account for one additional, unpredictable element.
"Take your position," I ordered.
Lio straightened immediately and rushed toward the assigned rope station as though he had been part of the crew from the beginning.
Marina raised her hand.
"Release moorings," she commanded.
The ropes were loosened, sails adjusted, and the wind caught the canvas with a powerful snap. The ship groaned softly as it shifted from stillness into motion, wood creaking as hull met water.
The dock slowly began to recede.
Families gathered along the shoreline raised their hands in farewell. Bren lifted his arm in response, and I did the same, my gaze finding Mother's figure among them. She stood tall despite everything, her expression composed though her eyes betrayed concern.
The illusion perimeter shimmered faintly at the edge of the eastern waters as we approached it. For a brief moment, the ship passed through the subtle distortion of mana, and then the waters beyond opened fully before us.
The sea stretched wide and endless.
Our first destination lay to the east.
Kalyra Port.
Behind us was Mariner's Hearth.
Ahead of us was everything else.
And for the first time, the horizon did not feel distant.
It felt attainable.