#deityduo

When Prilu en’Saellya, Bearer of the Heavens, Oracle of the Covenant, the Twice-Born Stephanite, opened her eyes, she knew she was not awake. 

The ceiling above her arched high and bright, liquid sunlight pouring from hidden windows to fill every hidden crevasse. The windows shone with such brilliance as to be blinding, and no matter how long she stared, Prilu was never quite able to make out the faces in the stained glass images. Painted figures swirled across the domed space, murals dancing in two dimensions, flickering over pillar and vault to tumble down across the walls. And what walls they were, too; spotless white stone, not an inch left uncarved. It was breathtaking, wherever it was, and Prilu knew when she woke she would remember none of it. 

The pew she was laid across had padding this time, at least. The last time she’d woken here she’d been crammed uncomfortably into a kneeling position on some sort of wooden bench, clearly carved for a creature with only two leg joints. Her back protested as she pushed herself up, claws catching in the rich green fabric beneath her. 

Running her eyes from the pillars to the floor, down the central aisle to a sort of raised dais, then upward, Prilu finally caught sight of her target. High above what looked like an altar sat a bench in a recessed cavity, surrounded on all sides by levers and buttons and a radiating set of polished bronze pipes. A small figure, shoulders bare, horns barely curved, rocked back and forth in the seat, hands dancing across the panels before them. As she did, the entire building roared with sound, the bench beneath Pri shaking with the sheer force of the music. The murals laughed and spun to the earth-shattering rhythm, strange pale elven-like beings and malformed avians in white robes darting together over marble and carpet. For a long moment it barely registered as music, the utter volume drowning out any hint of order. But gradually, as her eyes adjusted to the light and her body to the feeling of the pew beneath her, the rhythm shone through the chaos. Pri found she rather liked the song. 

Knees and ankles protesting, Prilu hauled herself upright, frowning as she glanced about for her cane and found nothing. That wasn’t unusual for these visions; it meant she wouldn’t be fighting this time. That might be a good thing. It might not. 

The carpet was dense enough to snag on her talons as she walked down the aisle and around the altar, scanning the walls for a place to climb to the recessed bench. There was a statue of a grotesque figure hung spread-eagled over the altar - another elven man, largely beaten skin and broken bones. In contrast to the shocking beauty of the scene around her, it seemed jarringly disturbing. Pri found it difficult to look at for long. 

Finally, she found a hidden staircase behind a curved wall, bending nearly double as her horns caught at the wood of the squat doorway. Eventually, she leaned down and began to climb on all fours, body twisting as the stair folded in on itself to fit within the wall it was hidden by. The sound was even louder here, ringing from seemingly everywhere, and the ceiling ran with the same strange brass pipes that radiated from the alcove where her target sat waiting. 

When she finally emerged from the passage and back into the light of the great room, the music seemed to crescendo, sound bouncing from wall to wall in a long-held note before slowly petering away. Prilu stood in the silence for what seemed a short eternity, listening to the last echoing tone of the song before stepping forward to sit beside herself. 

It was in her body before she’d left for the Conventium, this time. She barely had any markings at all, other than the two streaks at the outer edges of her collarbones. Her horns were grey with youth, and her claws were still pale where her hands rested against several rows of black and white levers before them. Craning her neck to look past her old legs, Prilu was surprised to note that there were more levers beneath their feet, wider wooden ones arrayed in the same three-two-two-three pattern as the black and white ones. 

Prilu closed her eyes, waiting for the figure to speak, and in the silence she could hear something like a heartbeat, pulsing through the very walls of the building. It felt… oddly familiar. 

“You were clever, Little Brand.” The thing wearing Pri’s face said, hands held still and steady over the levers. “But you were reckless. You chose vows that could not be upheld, an impossibility.” 

“I chose vows that would keep me alive, for as long as the requirements are met.” Prilu replied, eyes still closed. “I told you. I will not leave her.” 

“And yet, you will.” The figure replied, and something in their voice was like ice in Prilu’s veins. “Little Brand, what is your Duty?” 

“To bear my Covenant.” Prilu replied, glancing over at the thing’s downturned face. “To ensure the Others bear theirs, as well. To be Justice, in an unjust world. To be Honor, where beings are dishonorable. To be the Rock on which the caverns rest. To do this and live, as long as Saellya remains Oracle of the Deep.” 

“And thus far, you have failed.” The thing frowned. “We were willing to wait, for a time. But before any lesser duties, you are obliged to uphold the Covenants.” 

Prilu felt her lip curling back from her tusks. “I have-” 

“You have upheld your own.” The thing snapped, and its gaze left the levers before it to meet Pri’s. “But you are not a mortal, your responsibility does not extend to the borders of your flesh and no further. You are Covenant. You take the guilt of the other three upon yourself.” 

“... Saellya and Arga have not broken any-” 

“Not the Oracles.” The thing’s eyes were fire. They were script and searing light, and every bone in Pri’s body cried out at the brush of the power that once branded them. “The Powers themselves.” 

Pri shuddered as their gaze left hers, returning to the levers. “... I don’t understand.” 

“Where is the Star?” The thing’s voice hummed like an infinitely great brass bell, struck at an unimaginable distance, shuddering through stone and sea to hum against Pri’s throat. Its form shook slightly, flesh melting and sloughing away from the white-hot form beneath. “Where is the Soul? When the tunnels collapsed, where did Destiny go? Only a coward hides behind lies. Where is His Hand? Where is His Eye?” 

Pri had screwed her eyes shut against the light, and now clapped her hands over her ears, pressing them down flat against her skull. “I don’t understand what you mean!” She roared, and the heat against her skin grew nigh unbearable. 

“You must Leave. You must find Him. Bind Him. Open the Way.” 

. 

.

When Pri opened her eyes, she knew she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep for this. 

The ceiling of her cabin of the Wanderlust rocked gently back and forth above her head, worn wood cast warm in the light of the local sunstripes. They’d been awake far too late last night pouring over battle maps, and now, rolling over to press her face into a pillow, Pri wished for the sweet release of death.

Unfortunately, the pillow she chose wasn’t hers, and was therefore covered in long, scratchy hair. Pri’s head snapped up almost the moment it went down, spluttering as she pulled the hair from her tusks. 

“Hmmmnngggh.” Pri rolled her eyes as Sae’s hand emerged from the huddle of blankets to swat at her head. It was rare nowadays that Pri and Sae got to use the nest they’d built into the cabin of the Wanderlust. Pri had missed it, key word being ‘had.’ Now, a wickedly clawed hand swatting absently at her face as Sae rolled over, taking the blankets with her, Pri really just wanted to go back to sleep. 

“Come on.” Pri patted at the lump of disgruntled bird and began rolling, feet and fingers curled into careful balls to keep from snagging the blankets. “Big day. Up.” 

“Nnnnnhhhhhmmmm!” The Lump replied, significantly more distressed as Pri left the nest, taking her body heat with her. It shuffled about for a moment, searching with one hand for its missing heater, then sighed in surrender. Sae’s bottlebrush head emerged from the pile moments later, just in time to grab the offered tin of water Pri handed her. 

“Caffe?” Pri asked, and Sae nodded, still half-asleep. 

For what it was, it was a quiet morning. The Wanderlust was small enough to hitch behind one of the larger Watcher galleons, so they didn’t need to worry about the travel. Pri could take the time to pull the caffe down from the top shelf and brew a disgustingly strong pot, just to water it down again in Sae’s mug. 

“Your hair needs preening.” Sae muttered, still slumped over against the high rim of the nest. Pri had tried, once, to buy a couch and fit it into their space, delineate between ‘sleeping’ and ‘eating’ space. They’d never once managed to actually use it. Pri was pretty sure it was somewhere in the Whalefall’s hold now, gathering barnacles. 

Nodding, Pri downed the dregs of her mug and poured another, settling into the lower part of the nest so Sae was perched above her. Sae’s claws ran gently through her snarled curls and Pri felt something thrum to life in her chest, the steady rhythm of magic in her bones stoked to something brighter, louder. Faintly, Pri could remember purring as a child, before she knew it would only get her in trouble. She couldn’t purr anymore. As far as she could tell, she didnt have the organs for it. But this felt something like that.

“Your braid’s a mess.” Sae muttered, picking at the gold cuff that held Pri’s Covenant weave in place. “What’d you do, take a walk in a wind-tunnel?” 

“Sat in the crows nest for a bit last night.” Pri muttered past the low rumbling in her throat, neck craning back to press her head into Sae’s hands. “Needed to think.” 

“You got a lot on your mind?” Sae asked, carefully unwinding the braid until the section of hair hung straight and loose, nearly twice as long as the hair around it. 

“Oh, you know. The caverns-spanning war is a big one. The casualty lists I keep getting. The fight for our world as we know it because our enemy has decided it’s ok to dig their fingers into the fabric of reality… my tusks kinda hurt after that one guy punched me.” Pri reached up to poke Sae in the side, who snorted, claws digging a little harder into Pri’s scalp. “Just, yknow. The usual worries.” 

“Oh yeah,” Sae grinned down at Pri, fingers still slowly reweaving her braid. “The average mortal worries. Rent, taxes, the fate of the halls. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” 

Pri laughed. “With what heart?” Her tusks flashed again, a low curl of smoke pouring from between her teeth, and Sae felt Pri’s back begin to burn against her legs. “You’re the one who’s still got organs.”

“You have organs! You do, they…” Sae paused. “They’re just… a little melty. And warm.”

There was a long silence as Pri stared up at her, blank-faced. But then Sae’s lip twitched, and Pri’s breathing stuttered, and they were both doubled over, cackling. 

“No, really,” Sae finally managed, after dropping the weave in her mirth and having to pull the whole thing apart and start again. “You need to take a break.” 

Pressing her head back into the sensation of claws tugging at her curls, Pri sighed. “I can take a break later, love. When we’ve finished this.” 

.

(Unwritten scene: Conversation between Sae, Pri, and the battle council in the planning room from Sae’s perspective: Pri seems Off. They’ve been running ragged, trying to take out the magical drains in the major slave caverns and supporting the war effort in each one. They’ve already had their big “Sae wants to take this slow, Pri wants to push forward” Conversation, but this one seems off. Pri seems distracted, pushing them forward without regard for their safety. This is the second-to-last cavern they need to fix: The assault on this city one and the slavers’ central headquarters is happening jointly, the Wayfarer crew attacking the headquarters while Pri, Sae, Arga, the Wanderlust, and the Whalefall take out the final magic sinkhole. Sae is gonna be seabound on the Whalefall, directing things until they can get through the city shield and Pri is gonna be piloting the Wayfarer in flight mode, directing the shieldbreaker mages and channeling the energy needed to take down the wall.) 

. 

(After the meeting, in the captain’s cabin of the Whalefall, Sae and Pri alone) 

“I still don’t like not being there with you.” Sae muttered, picking at the skin of her fingers as she flipped through the loose reports on the captain’s table. 

“I’ll be fine. As soon as the wall goes down, I’ll come back to get Kadon and Jago.” Pri’s voice swept back and forth behind Sae, cabinets and glass clattering. Sae was too focused on the battle map before her to notice the offered glass until Pri’s large hand slid over hers, thumb pressing firmly against the ragged tear she’d made in her own skin. A glass of ice and faintly glowing tchar’ii sat beside her elbow, well watered down. 

“...thanks.” Sae finally muttered, pressing her face to the base of Pri’s ribcage as she leaned over her. Snatching the glass, she pushed upward and around her friend, downing half the drink at once. “I’d watch the captain assigned to the western point, he seems twitchy. I don’t know how well he’ll handle having you in his head, no matter how skilled he is in shieldbreaking. Remember, I can’t get the boys off-water until the sink is destroyed, mortals are never great with frontal-” 

Pri’s arms settled around Sae’s shoulders, pulling her into a crushing hug. Stars, she was warm. Sae could hardly remember what having a heartbeat felt like, how the brush of the sunstripes’ light against her skin had stung when she’d stayed out too long. But even as the Deep had taken the life from her bones, it seemed Pri was all too ready to pour it right back in. Her palms burned like brands, one pressed to her back, the other holding the base of Sae’s skull, and in that hug, the caged beast in her mind quieted. For a minute, there was peace. 

“Alright.” She finally muttered into Pri’s shoulder. “What’s this about?” 

“... Nothing.” Pri whispered into Sae’s hair, and Sae snorted. 

“Please. You’re shaking - More than usual.” She cut off the snarky response she could feel coming. “We have a good plan. The mages are clever, and they have you. Once the wall is down and the drain is closed, it’s just a matter of evacuating the captives. What’s eating you?” 

There was a long moment where Pri just… held on. Her fingers dug a little tighter, like she was standing in a vicious gale no one else could feel, and was clawing at every hold she could reach. “I love you.” She finally whispered, still pressed to Sae’s hair. Then she pulled away, and she seemed… not encouraged. Settled, maybe. Like she’d stepped into the heart of whatever storm had been buffeting her and found a moment of silence. “And I’m ready for this to be over. I’m ready to be done.” 

Sae rolled her eyes, poking at Pri’s ribs. The draconian shrieked, smoke puffing from between her tusks as she shoved Sae. Sae laughed, ducking beneath the shove to dart away. “Well this was your idea, idiot. I was ready to be done months ago!” She sighed, shrugging her knife belt over one shoulder. She turned back to Pri, then hesitated. There was just… something bottomless in Pri’s eyes, and it wasn’t excitement, or nervousness, or pain. Sae was honestly unsure if Pri was even really present. 

“... you’re gonna be careful out there, right?” Sae finally managed, and Pri seemed to shake herself. 

“Yeah, of course.” She grinned, and Sae couldn’t help but wonder if it actually looked forced, or if her paranoia was talking. “Can’t die until you do, anyway. That’s the deal. As long as you don’t do something truly idiotic, like stealing Carl’s dinner, we should be fine.”

. 

(The Battle. Quickly jumps between Pri and Sae’s POV, Pri directing the mages as they try to break through the shield wall (Think giant orange hexagoned magical dome over the city) Eventually, Pri realizes that this wall isn’t going down without some serious firepower; the mages say they can probably get through with a few more hours of effort, but the slaver forces have almost pushed down to the shore, and she knows the Wayfarer She isn’t willing to risk losing everyone, and it’s kinda implied that she has been considering this from the beginning.) 

. 

The wall still wasn’t down. Sae knew it wasn’t Pri’s fault, but damn if she didn’t want to yell at her to hurry it up, even in the confines of her own mind. They’d been at this for over an hour; the forces at the western point had folded when a fresh wave of slaver scum had broken through their defensive line, and Sae was currently halfway up the Whalefall’s rigging, scanning the slope leading up to the city and the gleaming orange dome, praying she wouldn’t see any soldiers headed for the shore. 

“... scassa.” She swore as her eyes caught the crimson slash of a banner, and another, and another, pouring from another break in their line towards the ships. “JAGO! GET THE GUNS READY!” 

“AYE!” Jago cried from the deck, and that was when Sae felt it. Right behind her eyes, in that strange not-place where her bond with Pri sat, something yanked, forcing her gaze upward.

In the air above the city, she saw a shining gold point streaking across the sky. As it flew closer it grew brighter, until Sae could make out the faintest implication of the ship she knew like the back of her hand through the all-consuming light. Her ship, the closest thing she’d had to a home for nearly two centuries, swung in a wide arc over the open field. Sae had the strangest feeling that it had only sailed this far out because it needed to be seen before it turned around. Only after Sae had seen it did it turn, so high it was almost impossible to make out, and pointed its bow down. Down, at the great unbroken face of the city shield, and the light grew brighter still. 

It shot like a fiery arrow, straight and true, and Sae couldn’t even bring herself to scream. 

The explosion was so great, it ripped the fleet from their moorings and threw them into the bay. A few of the mortal vessels slammed against one another in the chaos and crumpled, their sailors tossed to the raging sea. Some of the Watchers dove overboard after them, not quite willing to sit idle while good men drowned like they once had. 

Tomgrin didn’t move. Neither did Sae. They stood at the edge of the Whalefall in silent horror as the fireball that once was the Wayfarer seared through air and shield and eye. They stood as the orange light of the shield flickered and died. They stood as the blinding point of light that was their friend flickered, then fell. 

Then, as one, they moved. Sae lurched forward, to throw herself overboard or out onto the nearest ship, it was unclear, but Tomgrin was faster. He hooked his arms around her shoulders, hauling her back. “Don’t!” He yelled, and Sae snarled in fury. 

“She’s not gone!” She spat, air curdling around her like milk, and from the bones of her wings dripped black ichor. 

“Lass, there’s nothin you can -” Tomgrin tried, and was pushed back for his trouble. 

“I’d know!” Sae’s fingers twisted into black claws, then loosened, then tightened again. “I’d… I’d know, Tom.”

“... ok. Go.” 

Sae blinked in surprise. The raised ridge of black, razor-sharp spines at her back retracted. “What?” 

“I believe you.” Tomgrin pointed, hands steady, eyes warm. “Go get her, Bird. Break that damn drain so the mortals can land, get us in so we can help her. Go!” 

Sae was gone before he finished talking. 

. 

(The battle finishes. Sae is mowing thru combatants, indiscriminate in her pursuit of victory. If they can win, they can get men into the rubble of the like, thirty city blocks Pri destroyed with her big move. Finally, they win, and Sae doesn’t even take a second. She’s crawling over the rubble looking for clues when a first responder team shouts that they’ve found something.)

. 

Sae dove, jumping from the roof of a half-destroyed five-story building to slam against the ground beside the man who’d flagged her down. “What?” 

He flinched back, gulped, then took a breath. “Ma’am, we found something. There’s a ring of melted stone over thataway,” He gestured up a slight incline, towards a block that still held a few haphazard two-story structures. “We can’t get through the rubble to the center, but-” 

He trailed off as Sae darted away. 

The ringing in her ears was loud enough to deafen. Sae couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She caught sight of the ring of stone almost immediately, a blackened line half-hidden beneath piles of rubble, like something had seared itself into the ground just before the buildings had collapsed. 

“Please. Please. Please.” She whispered, ducking through a doorway that destabilized right behind her, stone crumbling to cut off her exit. The room she found herself was still and dusty, open to the sky, and piled high with rock and rubble. 

At the top of the pile, Sae could see a scrap of orange cloth. 

She was halfway up the pile before she caught the smell of blood. 

“Please.” She whispered, pushing herself up further, and stopped. 

Pri was in one piece. That was really all that could be said for her. She was draped over an angled stone, likely a capstone from an archway, arm wrapped tightly around it to keep herself from slipping off. Black, cooled slag caked the entire thing, trickling down into the rubble around her, cutting trails through the dust. Sae listened for a long, desperate moment, waiting for that low rhythmic hum that always emanated from Pri’s body, even in sleep. 

It didn’t come. 

Shaking, Sae stepped forward, almost close enough to reach out and touch, and that was when Pri moved. Her shoulders shuddered, fingers clawing at the rock as she whined in agony, and Sae scrambled to grab her, pulling her up and off the rock. Pri screamed, and Sae almost dropped her when she saw what had caused the molten blood.

Pri hadn’t leaned against the stone; she’d fallen on it. A short, viciously edged protrusion rose from the top of the rock, glistening black. She must have dropped from the altitude of the explosion directly onto it. 

Pri’s chest was… open. It was completely open. Sae pressed her hands lightly over exposed ribs and shredded intestines, all faintly glowing, completely at a loss for what to do. When Pri was hurt like this before, she’d always gone supernova; burst into flame like some mythical thing and come back singed but whole. This was… this wasn’t fixable. 

“Please, Pri.” Sae choked, kneeling beside her head, hands searching for a place to press, a wound to cover. “Please. What do I do, how do I-” 

Pri’s hand, soaked black with the inky substance she’d bled since her ascension, fumbled for Sae’s face, and Sae doubled over to help her reach, sliding forward to bracket Pri’s head with her knees. Her ribs shuddered, flaring like some gruesome flower as Pri fought for breath. 

“... Hhey, y-.... y-ou.” She finally managed, and Sae choked on a sob.  

“Tell me how to fix this, please, Pri? Pri, talk to me. We can fix this, we can get you to Arga we- How. Pri, please-” 

Ash-grey spit frothed at the corners of her mouth as Pri smiled, throat working, but nothing came out. Slowly, the bottomless inky black of Pri’s eyes seemed to drain away, pooling in the corners of her eyes and running down her face in thin dark rivulets. Sae absently moved her hands from the open cavity of Pri’s chest to the sides of her face, wiping at the streaks with blood-caked fingers. For the first time in nearly a century, Pri’s eyes were gold and clear as the day, and Sae knew she could see again. 

They never faltered, never left Sae’s face. Her smile widened, and her hand fell to rest against Sae’s neck. “... I-hh… I… I lo-ve yo…” 

She stopped. Her throat paused its struggle again, as if to fight for another breath, but this time it didn’t pick up again. Her ribs fell back to their concave position, her eyes stilled their flickering between Sae’s. Everything just… stopped. 

Very suddenly, between one moment and the next, the warmth Sae could feel leaking from Pri’s body vanished. Some part of her knew, intellectually, that that didn’t make sense. It took hours for a body to lose its heat. But what mattered wasn’t the heat, it was Pri. 

Try as she might, Sae couldn’t feel Pri.

Then the noise in her ears rushed back in and Sae threw her head back to scream. 

The shockwave leveled half the city.

.

It took three days. After the second explosion, it took three days. 

Kadon watched his captain, the closest man he had to a father, walk the shoreline like a caged man, for three days. It was killing him.

They hadn’t heard much from the survivors. Well, they had. But it was frantic pleas for news of families, children, friends. No one wanted to talk about what happened in the city after the ground shook and the sun stripes dimmed. Tomgrin and the crew were the only ones desperate to get in, to find out what had happened, what had become of their Bird and their General. 

Eventually, the rescue workers started trickling down the slope too. They came to the Whalefall first, the only ship not overrun with refugees. Few families with children wanted to be on board with walking deadmen after finding out they knew as little as the rest. 

It’s odd, Kadon thought. He knew they looked abnormal, but last he checked, they weren't that terrifying. Many of these were faces he recognized, faces from the few Deadman Landings held past the Chain. Sure, they had never been quite happy to see them, but they'd never been terrified. They shied away from the crew with haunted looks, now, as though they were remembering something. He didn’t like the pit it opened in his stomach, or the things it implied.

"CAPTAIN" Matty screamed from the crows nest, and Kadon whipped around fast enough to break a living man’s neck. The crew looked up as one to see him pointing starboard, towards the shore. 

Jago spotted them next, crossing the deck quicker than Kadon had ever seen him move before. He stopped a step to the right and two steps back from Tomgrin, the position a good first mate always holds. Jago had only ever held that position twice. The first was the wedding. The second was right before the battle.

Kadon knew then, without looking, that this was bad. He screwed his eyes shut for a long moment, but then Paul gave a choked-off gasp, and Kadon had to look. 

It was a group of rescue workers, and they had Pri.

They… they had Pri?

Kadon watched in a black daze as the workers carried a long wooden stretcher-like contraption up the gangplank. Pri was laid out on it, legs straight, arms folded. Sae was on it too, curled around her head. Pri’s clothes were torn, her skirt filthy, and her chest… gods. Her chest. 

Her chest was torn and shattered like a peeled orange and those- those were ribs and lungs and- 

Gods, Kadon wanted to wretch. But what tipped him over the edge was her eyes. 

Pri’s eyes had always been dark. They were the first thing most people saw of her, past the height and the tattoos. They were featureless, oily black pits set deep beneath her brows. But, the few times he’d managed to truly meet them, it’d always seemed to Kadon that they were full. Full of joy and fire and cutting wit. Full of the ink of covenant words, swirling with promise. Unbending. Unbreakable.

Now, they were gold. Bright glittering irises, black pupils, the white of the eye clear and clean and empty.

Kadon crumpled halfway over the rail of the deck, choking as he vomited. 

It took him a long, painful, ringing minute to catch his breath, to look back. Sae was hunched over in what he could now clearly see was agony, clutching Pri’s face in bloodstained hands. Her hair had fallen to cover her face. 

Kadon spun, fast enough to risk a crick in his neck, as the deck railing crunched. His captain’s fingers were dug into the wood of the ship’s rail, splinters jutting up around them. His free hand was shaking. Kadon couldn’t find it in himself to look at the captain’s face as his wife and her closest friend were lowered to the planks of the deck and left. He needed the Captain to be strong enough for this. He needed that, even if it was a lie.. Some part of him knew if he saw the look on the captain’s face right now, he’d break beneath the truth of it. 

"How?" The Captain finally rasped, and one of the rescue workers shook their head. 

“We don’t know. We think the General held out until the Commander found her, despite her injuries. Their… positioning. Doesn’t make sense otherwise. Then the General…” The worker’s hands flex as they search for the right words. “Passed. The Commander was close enough to the Well when she… when she reacted.. It broke. The Well. In the resulting blast. Along with at least a fourth of the city. We were picking through more mushrooms than rubble when we finally found them.” 

The deck gave a muffled thunk as the Captain… as Tomgrin lowered himself to his knees next to his wife. Kadon pushed himself closer, and saw the moment Tomgrin noticed Pri’s cleared eyes. Slowly, like he was trying to touch a frightened animal, he reached forward to rest a hand on his wife’s shoulder. 

"Sae?... Saeylla? Little bird?" he asked, the soft desperation in his tone twisting in Kadon's gut. He wanted to look away, almost felt like he ought to look away, but he couldn't. He could see Matty out of the corner of his eye, and past him, Jago. They couldn’t seem to move either. 

"Lass? Can-" Tom’s voice cracked. "Can you look at me?"

It clicked, suddenly, what the Captain was trying to do, why he was so carefully pushing at Sae’s shoulders. Kadon felt his gut clench again. An Oracle’s eyes changed when they Ascended, but when they died… apparently, when they died, they returned to their original color. Pri’s had. 

Tomgrin was checking. 

.

His Bird had told him, once, that her eyes had been blue. It’d been a quiet evening, near the beginning, when their alliance was still uneasy and Tom was still uncertain as to the relationship between the crew’s two new partners. Surely, he’d thought, rolling the words over his mind like rum over his tongue, surely they are more than friends. Look at the way they dance together. Like Fire and Water. 

But then again, he remembered thinking. Look at the way she looks at me. 

“I like your eyes,” Sae had said, giddy and laugh-drunk and probably also rum-drunk considering the half-empty bottle Prilu had snatched from her hands a half-hour before. “They’re the sea.” 

He’d laughed, knowing that if he were even slightly less tipsy, he’d have melted into a nervous puddle at the complement. As it was, it seemed only natural to return it. 

“I like yours.” He’d replied, and she’d grinned. 

“Y’know, mine used to be blue, too. Like yours.” Something had crossed her face at that, and she’d turned to look down over the rail of the ship, into the sea. “I.. I miss it, sometimes. The blue. I’m glad you like them now, even though they’re freaky.” 

He’d snorted. Something about the ridiculousness of the comment had struck him, and an impression of Pri’s exasperated expression flashed behind his eyes. This woman, really. 

“Well. Doesn’t matter, really. If they’d stayed blue, I never would’ve met you.” She’d smiled again, and oh, dear, that really was the deepest cut to Tomgrin’s heart he’d ever felt. And she knew it, too. She saw it in him as it hit, and threw her head back to laugh and laugh.

“You won’t ever see them blue,” she’d leaned in once she’d caught her breath, like it was a secret for only the two of them to keep. She’d meant it as a mocking sort of joke, a childish jab at an insecurity she knew he didn’t have. But something about it rang in his mind, even after the party was over. Even after the years had turned on, and he’d learned how blind he’d been to her affections, and he’d found himself standing before a wedding board with her on the other side. “You’re stuck with gross corpse eyeballs. You will never see them blue.” Like a promise. She’d promised. 

She promised, he begged in the silence of his own mind, half a century later. She promised me. 

Beneath them both, just in his line of sight, Pri’s cold, empty eyes glinted with what little light made its way through Sae’s curtained hair. From their angle, Tom could guess what she had held onto, as she died. He could guess how bitterly she had clung to consciousness until she’d seen it. It was a blessing few received, to see the face of their beloved as they died. 

 Some part of Tom’s mind was weeping, behind the grey fog of terror that drove him onward. That was the other half of his wife’s soul lying there, pried open like an oyster on the deck. That was one of his closest, oldest friends, dead and grey and chill to the touch. That was Prilu, his Covenant, his General, his drinking buddy and the officiator of his wedding, leaking viscera onto the deck of his ship, and he could not handle that yet. Not until he knew. 

“Little bird, can you… can you show me your face, please?” He muttered, low enough that he wasn’t sure Sae would have heard him if she were listening. 

“Captain.” Jago’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. His voice was empty, a blank word said to fill the silence when he had nothing else to say. Tom shook his head in response. 

Tom’s hands found their place at the sides of Sae’s face, fingers itching at the dried flakes of black ichor left there, by Pri’s hands or Sae’s or both. Her flesh was cold, as it had always been. He’d long become comfortable with the touch of the living dead, the press of a cold hand to his shoulder or the muted pressure of arms around his chest. His crew were as dead as their captain, as dead as his wife. But there was a difference between cold and frozen, between dead and unmoving. It felt less like her usual chill, and more like the stiffness of rigor mortis. It felt like she hadn't moved in days. 

He realized, with a roiling lurch in his stomach, that she likely hadn’t.

"Love?" He tried again, pushing her hair to the side and craning his neck to see - 

Her eyes were white. White as the shells hanging from her braid, glassy as a blind man, they sat motionless in dead sockets, but they were white. They were still white. Still his Sae's.

He shuddered in relief, shoulders slumping as he dropped his head against her side. 

"She's-" His voice grated, and he hesitated. Alive was the wrong word for what they are, but he could not say dead, either. “Not gone. She’s still here, I think.” He finally finished, and heard the rest of the crew sigh in tandem. 

Then, as the grey terror abated and the vice around his lungs abated, he looked down. 

Pri’s cheeks were streaked with oily tears. Her veins stood out against her skin, seared like brands into the now-ashen flesh. Dried spittle encrusted her lips, spread in a soft smile, and there were flecks of something dark caught in the gaps beneath her tusks. The rich black of her Covenant markings had faded to a blurred greenish-blue, as if they’d only ever been amateur stick-and-poke tattoos. The finer ones along her wrists and neck were so pale and faded as to be illegible now, the familiar glyphs for ‘Fire’ and ‘Justice’ and ‘Peace’ blotted out into nothingness. Tom felt a flash of rage at that, at the callous disregard the Covenant had so clearly shown to the body of its champion. How dare it take the marks of her office from her, now that she was no longer there to defend her title? How dare it be so selfish? 

“Captain.” Jago said again, and this time it was not to fill space. It was a plea for help, in that steady, quiet way only Jago could manage. To anyone else, it would have sounded like a report, or like encouragement. To Tomgrin? 

“I need you and Paul to carry them below.” Tom turned to his first mate, hoisting himself up and away from the bodies. His hand found Jago’s shoulder and squeezed. “I have to organize the survivors. We need to get the wounded to Arga, they’ve waited here long enough.” 

Tom had to fight to catch Jago’s eyes, but once he did, he hoped his gaze said what he could not. “Could you sit the first watch with them, Jago?” 

He could grieve there, Tom knew, in the way his oldest friend needed to grieve. The crew would not disturb him. They’d all known, in some way or another, of the quiet, warm, unspoken candle Jago had let burn for their General for decades now. Pri was-... Pri had been wise beyond her many years, and though she’d been nearly blind she’d seen, deep into the hearts of those around her. But she wasn’t omnipotent. There were things she’d missed. 

Jago was one of them. Tom wasn’t sure why he’d waited to tell her, but it was too late now, and the best thing he could give his first mate was time. Time and space and a place to put his grief. 

“Send word to the Coelacanth and the Nautilus, tell them to open their holds to the wounded, both living and dead. I want the Xiphias on strike patrol, nothing gets near the medical transports. We’re taking the western trench to the Quatturis. Let’s see if our sacrifices have won us this war.”