Several ships docked at the port, but only one was lit with lamps; a galleon with a massive hull and towering masts. Shadows moved on the deck behind the balustrade, and the dominating voice of a man rose over the noise of footsteps and work.

As Jiro walked up the gangway, he saw the ship's crew busying themselves with the orders of the captain, who stood at the center of the deck by the mainmast.

The captain had his back to the ramp and wore a dark red coat and polished boots. When he turned, he instantly reached for the pistol at his side, drawing it and pointing it at Jiro.

"Who are you?" the captain said with a finger over the trigger of the gun, giving Jiro a warning glare, dark brown eyes narrowing. The white tattoo on his chin formed three straight lines that sloped to his neck, flowing down into the collar of his tunic—a beautiful contrast of bright strips over his dark skin.

Arms raised to show no weapons, Jiro stopped. After the fight with Mariko, somehow, looking down the barrel of the captain's gun didn't seem frightening. "We need to cross the Wari Strait. We can pay."

The crew paused what they were doing and stared at Jiro. The captain regarded him for a moment. "We're not taking passengers tonight. It's a full moon. Unless you want to die in this strait." His hand relaxed, returning his pistol to its holster on his side. He tucked his arms back, a familiar stance Jiro had seen before.

Jiro dropped his hands to his sides, but he didn't relax. His muscles became alert as he watched the captain, glancing at the tucked pistol. Guns in Daracka were a privilege. They could not own firearms unless they were soldiers or served in the army. So how did this man get one? A sudden doubt and mistrust came over him, but he had no choice. They needed to get out of Kata now.

"But you're sailing tonight, aren't you?" Jiro said.

The captain didn't answer him; instead, he walked to the balustrade and looked down at the dock where Alet stood waiting with the nyx. The girl looked up and met the man's eyes.

"We've been sailing under the full moon for years, and the waters don't seem to like me that much. They don't want to take me and my ship." He looked at Jiro then.

"Take us with you to the southern port of Adar. Please." Jiro fished a gold coin from his pocket and raised it to the captain. It was the last hed he had. He thought of saving it, but they were desperate. They couldn't stay here for longer. They still had days, maybe even weeks, to go before they reached Kazima, but they needed to leave the city now. Mariko could already be awake looking for them.

The captain raised a dark brow, his blue eyes widening. "Well, now. There's something I can't refuse." He grinned with yellowed teeth and turned back to look down at Alet on the dock. Then he waved a hand for her to climb aboard the ship.

"Thank you," Jiro tossed the coin to the man.

"If you drown, you can't say I didn't warn you." The captain caught the coin in the air with a wide grin plastered to his face. "And the nyx stays below deck at all times until we reach Adar."

The crew took a few more minutes before they declared the ship ready to sail. One of them guided Alet below the decks to get the nyx settled in while Jiro watched the shore anxiously.

From the balustrade, Jiro expected Mariko to come flying from the city with her knife in her hand. The image was vivid in his mind. When the anchor raised, a sense of relief washed over him, but he kept his watch on the dark docks.

The bright moon above came to its fullest, and though the waters were calm near the shore, Jiro caught the scent of distant rain. The air turned hotter and more humid as the ship drifted away from the water port.

"Jiro." Alet came up to him at the balustrade.

The night breeze swept her hair from her face. In the dim light of lamps, her eyes looked to be the same as if blended. Both blue and green. She glanced at the fading shore and then looked up at the moon. Her dark skin glazed with its white light.

"We'll be fine," Jiro said as if he knew what she was thinking. A question of security flashed in her eyes as she tilted her chin to the sky. At that moment, he recalled that she had done the same thing moments ago. They had done the same thing. But what did she see in the burst of lights in the sky? Why did she run? Jiro suspected it to be another more serious, more dangerous memory. "We'll stay below until we reach land." Despite the many questions in his mind, that was all he said.

One of the sailors guided them to a small cabin. It was a small single room, almost like a broom closet, but Jiro was thankful for the bunk beds crammed into the tiny space. He floated to the top, Lift on his toes, while Alet settled on the bottom.

The air hung musky as if the room stayed unused for months. There was barely enough space to leave their bags on the floor, so they'd placed them on the beds by their feet.

Jiro sat on the top bunk, his head touching the cabin's ceiling, and he listened to the noise above decks.

Within minutes, the wind changed, and the waters became troubled, wrestling with the hull. The southern warmth dissipated, replaced by a bitter chill. The loud crackle of lighting rang in the ship's belly, defeating the alarmed clunks of footsteps above.

"Should we help them?" Alet asked, looking up at the creaking ceiling where rainwater leaked through the seams.

"They're better off without our help." He peeked down at her from the top bunk and found that she had already laid on her back, head on a crumpled pillow. "Try to get some sleep." He kept his gaze to her face, not allowing them to rove lower than her neck, mistrusting himself for he knew he'd feel something about it. About the mounds of her chest, the dips of her waist, and the curves of her hips. Even the thought caused heat to crawl on his nape.

Alet met Jiro's eyes and placed her hands behind her head. "I heard stories about this Strait."

Jiro had come to know Alet as someone who liked listening to stories. He thought it was due to her lack of memories, trying to fill in the holes in her mind with tales of others.

"A lot of hurricanes happen in this strait." He pushed himself away from the edge and rested back on the banig. "The water phoenixes that live in these waters create storms when they are reborn from death. It happens daily, but most are reborn during the full moon." He recalled what he studied in field guides.

"Why is this ship sailing on a night like this then?" A crashing thunder followed Alet's voice.

Jiro waited for the rumble to stop before he spoke. "I don't know." He hadn't asked the captain why. He didn't think to ask any questions because escaping Mariko had been the priority that occupied his thoughts.

The captain's restless stomping and muffled shouts above the deck came through the ceiling as the ship pushed onward. Jiro now wondered if sailing through this strait tonight was the better option over Mariko. But regretting was useless now, so he looked forward to their destination instead of thinking such thoughts.

"When we get to Adar, we're going to visit the city of Atamack." He waited for a response from Alet. He continued when she didn't speak. "I heard they make the best ramka. It's a small city, but—"

"We shouldn't delay anymore." Alet cut him off, and he fell silent. "We should head straight to Kazima. The Kahani is waiting."

"I thought you wanted to see if things in other cities can make you remember." Jiro was cautious. The plan had worked and Alet remembered things in Kata but her last memory was unwanted.

"I won't find anything else." A bitter pang coiled in her voice. "I don't have any family. I just want to know what I am."

For a long moment, only the ruckus above the waves below answered. Jiro stared at the cracks in the cabin's planked ceiling. Molds had grown over their corners. They stayed quiet for a while, and he thought Alet had already gone to sleep.

"Alet," he said her name so softly, not wanting to wake her if she finally found her rest.

"Yes?" She was still awake.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For saving me in Kata and for staying with me. You could have gone to Kazima alone. You didn't need me. Whatever your reason, I want to thank you because I needed your company after—" he couldn't finish. So much had happened to him, and he didn't know if he would have survived them if Alet hadn't stayed with him. He was truly grateful. "I'd do the same for you," he added.

Alet made no more response, and the night passed by in hours with the storm. The light of the lamp flickered in the dimness of the room, and the leak above their cabin created a puddle on the floor as the musky stench grew stronger.

Throughout the night, Jiro listened to all movements on the ship. He listened to Alet too. After many nights of sleeping in the forest with her, he had not seen her stir in her sleep, but now the bed and the floor beneath creaked with uneasiness. Jiro wanted to peek at her to check if she was still awake, but he didn't. He kept listening until he heard a sniffle.

It was only a single sniffle that might have been due to the cold or something else, but it was a sniffle. Then she became calm. Her twisting and turning stopped, finally finding her rest.

Jiro waited for a few more moments before he finally closed his eyes. Surprised, the unsettling night sky blessed him with dark empty slumber.

✧

The hurricane rocked the ship, trying to tip it over to its side. More muffled shouts of orders came from above deck. Lightning thundered with an angry echo. But those were not what woke Jiro from his sleep. The door to their cabin had cracked open, and it repeatedly slammed against its frame, following the rhythm of the waves and the wind.

With heavy eyes, Jiro jumped off the top bunk, using his Lift to land quietly on the wet floor. His bare feet caught the freeze as he closed the door and bolted it. He glanced at the bottom bunk to check on Alet, but it was empty.

A surge of surprise jolted the rest of his sleep from his eyes. He unbolted the door in haste and burst out, nearly breaking its ancient hinges.

"Alet?" he called, but there was no answer. He stepped out and heard more stumbling above the deck. The crew was shouting. Hurrying to the stairwell, he grabbed the handrails to keep from getting thrown off his feet as the ship swayed furiously. His soles padded on pools of water on the floor, and as soon as he ducked his head out on the deck, he became drenched, wind howling at his face in the darkness.

"Man overboard!" A sailor with his waist tied to a post shouted.

Panic rushed up in Jiro's chest. "Alet!" he shouted as he turned in a full circle while still holding on to the rails.

Some of the crew roamed more freely on the floor, but they, too, had tied themselves to ropes. Most, though, were fully secured to the masts and the balustrades. The captain of the ship held the wheel on the quarterdeck where the only lit lamp flickered. He met Jiro's eyes with a grim look.

"Man overboard!" another crew member shouted. "She's gone down!" He pointed and looked at Jiro.

No! The most horrifying thought overcame Jiro as he made his way to the ship's bow. The wind punched at him from all sides, trying to toss him out. He kicked off the deck, forcing a Lift to his feet. The hurricane caught him and propelled him off the ship, but he regained his flight while he was in the air. The tension on his legs was bearable, but he wobbled with the force.

Desperate, Jiro looked to the dark waters but saw nothing, only the shadow of the waves. He heard the shouts from the ship, but someone else screamed in the distance.

"Alet!" A gust of wind shoved at his back, and he almost dropped to the sea, but he steadied himself, willing his legs and back to give him more strength, more Lift. He heard the scream again, a short burst of sound against the crashing waves.

When lightning struck, the flash illuminated everything in the strait, and at the side of his eyes, drowned by the movement of water, was a hint of color. He wasn't sure if it was Alet, but he dove.

The dark sea engulfed him, water pressed at his chest as he swam down, reaching his arms out, trying to feel whatever he couldn't see. He didn't know if he was actually moving or only getting swayed by the ocean, but he kept swimming. He forced the strongest Lift on his legs against the current. Being underwater for only a short time seemed too long, and he feared drowning.

Jiro's arms trembled, but he kept reaching out until he finally felt something solid. He touched fingers, then hands, and then arms. He wrapped himself around her, afraid to lose her in the tossing waves, and kicked them to the surface.

They broke through the boundary between air and water, shattering into the cold stormy night, both of them gasping. Jiro weakened and he couldn't fly, his legs beginning to fail.

The heavy water tried to drag them down as the ship stirred in their direction. A piece of log flew to them and floated in the angry sea, and tied to it was the looped end of a rope.

With the strength Jiro had left in his legs and spine, he propelled them to the wood, pulling the rope over them. The ring tightened around their waist like a noose, and when the cord pulled with tension, the crew heaved them toward the ship.

Unsure of where his strength came from, Jiro created more Lift on his legs to keep them afloat as they were hauled on the side of the ship. Beside him, Alet was unmoving.

When arms finally dragged them up on the deck, Jiro trembled, but he hurried to check Alet, kneeling on the floorboards and cradling her to his chest.

"Alet." His voice was an ocean of worry. He pushed her hair off her face and cupped her cheek.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she coughed. "Jiro," she whispered.

"You're alright," he said, relieved, and he pressed his lips to her forehead, pulling her closer to his body. It wasn't a kiss but it felt intimate.

Aware of the eyes that stared at them, Jiro broke the contact. He glanced up at the crew members surrounding them. They were crouching on the swaying deck to keep their balance. Among them was the captain, standing tall and not tethered to anything, even when the ship rocked drastically over the ocean.

The captain eyed Jiro. "Take her back below deck," he ordered, and Jiro carried Alet out of the storm without question.

Jiro's legs wavered, but he went down with Alet in his arms. The small cabin felt warmer though the only source of heat was the flickering lamp that hung on the corner. He set her down gently to stand on the floor, but she clutched onto him as if they were still in the waters, getting tossed in the waves. Her palm pressed over his chest, and she looked up to him. He didn't let her go just yet, his hands falling to hold her by the waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked, searching her face. Her dark hair was matted on her forehead and cheeks. Her blue eye and green eye glistened with tears that didn't drop.

She lowered her head and pressed her forehead on his breastbone, breathing in his scent. She stayed that way for a moment before she nodded.

"What happened?" Jiro tightened his hold on her as if she could suddenly push him away. "Why did you go out?"

She shook against his chest. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't remember."

Jiro's hand rose a little higher, pressing on the small of her back. He wanted to stay that way longer, but they were both soaked, and she was shivering. So he willed himself to step back, the cold gap between them becoming an ache. "You should change to dry clothes before you get sick."

Alet stepped back, too, coming away from his grasp as if realizing they had been too close. She pulled her hands to herself and nodded.

Jiro already regretted it, but he stopped himself from reaching out to her. "I'll ask for another lamp to make the room warmer." He turned and left to give her some privacy.

When he walked out the door, he saw the captain waiting in the cargo hold.

"So," the captain said, his face hidden in the dark shadows. "You're a flyer."

"Isn't it obvious?" This time, Jiro didn't deny it.

"Your kind never leaves your island. I thought you were a Wingless traveling with a soldier." The captain stepped closer into the light spilling from the cabin and showed the features of his face.

Jiro's eyes widened. How did he know that Alet was a soldier?

The captain grinned at his reaction, and he glanced at the door behind Jiro. "Your lady friend walks in her sleep." Then he chuckled. "Her eyes were closed, but she was agile. My men couldn't catch her."

Alet stepped out without a sound. The weak floorboards made no creak at her feet. "Kapitan," she said, staring at the captain. "I remember you."

"And I remember you," the captain gave a lazy salute to her.

Alet returned the respect, but her salute was more formal, more trained with clean, intense movements. Her fingers touched her forehead, and with a swift flick, her arms dropped to her side.

"Do you remember my name?" Alet asked. A desperate voice came from her, and her shoulders rose with expectation.

"I only transport for the army. Passengers are just passengers to me, soldier. I wouldn't care to know anything personal about my cargo." The captain then turned and walked back up the stairs. "Stay below decks," he commanded before he disappeared above.

Jiro watched Alet as her shoulders slumped with disappointment. 

.