The following text contains domestic abuse and references to suicide.

Everyone else mentioned but not named belongs to @thal-ent , @azeler and @soupedepates

Some post-session Leonova content uwu

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“Looks like someone’s in a good mood.”

If there is one thing I learned from being Leonova’s brother, it’s that when she comes back on the ship humming a tune and looking inexplicably cheerful, it’s usually a sign that things are about to go down very quickly. And the grin she flashes me doesn't reassure me in the slightest.

“Didn’t you leave with Brynja?”

They left alone, Leo pretexting that she needed Brynja’s eyes to find something she wanted to get, which sounded both like the truth and a lie.

“Well, Brynja finally found her long-lost first love, so I thought I’d let them have their little reunion in peace.”

Huh. Well that's certainly something.

“So… The famous Tyrfing whom she thought was dead is here, in this port, at the same time as us? What were the odds?”

The irony in my voice doesn't escape her, and her smile only widens. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew all along that we would cross paths with the Kraken’s King ship, but she looks so excited about it, it feels a little uncanny.

I can't remember the last time she was so happy.

“I've asked her to bring everyone at the tavern later tonight. Drinks will be on me, of course.”

I sigh. Deeply. From the bottom of my chest.

“And you want me to be there, don't you.”

“Of course I do! You're my second!”

Unfortunately, I am.

“You know I don't do well with strangers.”

“Oh, come on, you won’t even have to speak if you don’t want to! I just want you to see this! It’s a one-in-a-lifetime occasion, even for people like us. Kal, there’s an occultist rukkorn and a man with a Fol-Eye, even a fairy, can you believe it? And well, Tyrfing Harkyrsen, obviously. I’m sure there’s more people on their boat that I didn't get to meet, more very interesting people, you definitely want to be there.”

I smile abstently. Can't say I'm sharing her enthusiasm. Would it be interesting to meet those people? Certainly. Do I want to? Not really. I've seen rukkorns and fairies and mutilated men before. Brynja’s nice and of pleasant company on the ship, but I don't know any of the others.

Especially since I know all too well what Leo has in store for them.

But it doesn’t look like that's what's on her mind right now. She wants to know. To learn. She always does. And it's getting more and more rare for us to learn anything new with age.

I make the beginner mistake of thinking about the person she could have been if things had happened differently, and my chest starts aching a little. She's never looked more than my sister like she does right now.

A stupid part of me hopes that I might get that sister back. It knows I won't.

Yet she looks at me with the shiniest eyes and it’s all I can think about.

“So, will you be there?”

I huff, she grins.

“Pretty please.”

I sigh, I nod, and she knows she won this one. This is one of the few requests I could refuse without consequences, but I don't have the heart to do so.

“Right, for the negotiations… I'll handle the crew in the meantime.”

“Thank you."

“Stay safe, okay?”

I grin. Being safe isn't much of a concern after all these years.

The man I'm about to meet is a big name in the field. We both have a lot to gain from working more closely, but he’s a tough nut to crack and hard in business. From my sources, he's a hedonist, which is a good breach to exploit. A lot of his most precious acquisitions were bought only for his pleasure. I've dressed in clothes that are easier to take off than my usual. If I manage to secure a deal, I could also show him a good time. That'd be ideal.

“Don't worry. It’ll go just fine.”

…

It’s still night when I return to the ship. My brother is patroling around the deck and blinks in surprise when he notices me.

“Back already? I thought you’d only be here by morning.”

I shrug.

“Well, things went a little faster than expected.”

“Your deal would indeed be extremely profitable for both of us, miss Delavriskov, and your conditions are perfectly reasonable.”

Hm. And that only took an hour of talking over dinner. That's almost too perfect.

“I’m pleased to hear that. But it looks like there’s something else you want.”

His smile widens, revealing a few golden teeth. How very lavish.

“If you’re so well-informed, you’re not without knowing that I'm not above certain kinds of pleasure, are you?”

Kalerich walks over to me, worried eyes looking for any wound on my skin. He won’t find any.

“Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head. The only thing hurting is my shoulder, from carrying my suitcase all the way back.

“No. He didn't. But the negotiations were unsuccessful, either way.”

Astonishment covers his face. I rarely fail any negotiations.

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, if it’s me that you want, I’m all yours for tonight. It’s just us here, after all.”

He bursts out laughing, I raise an eyebrow.

“Miss Delavriskov, as lovely as you are, it’s not you I want.”

I’m almost offended. Almost.

“Really? Then what else do you want that I could possibly give you?”

His teeth shine in the dim light.

“You have a brother, don’t you?”

“I just didn't like his conditions.”

“Didn’t… Leo, I thought this was a huge deal. You went on and on about how you couldn't afford to nitpick on the terms.”

“I changed my mind.”

He stares at me in disbelief, but it's not like I need to tell him the truth, either way. He doesn’t have to know.

“Yes. I do. What about it?”

“Oh please, don’t act so oblivious. I saw him, you know. Quite the pretty face. One could mistake you two for twins.”

I smile politely.

“So I've been told. What do you want with him?”

“Oh, not much. Just lend him to me for, say, a night, and I'd accept your proposal. What do you say?”

“Kal, don’t make that face. There's hundreds like him, and we're not short on money.”

“... If you say so.”

His eyes go over my dress, searching for any kind of wrinkle or tear he could find, but there’s none.

Only a few stains, invisible on the black fabric.

“Hey, how about we get some food from the hold? I'm starving.”

“Alright. I'd say that we have reached a satisfying conclusion.”

His mouth gapes, then he laughs, incredulously.

“Well, color me surprised! Real pleasure to do business with you, miss Delavriskov.”

I slowly rise from my chair.

His eyes widen as it dawns on him that he's unable to do the same.

“Oh, pardon me,” I giggle. “When I said “we”, I wasn’t talking about you.”

I can see how much he wants to scream when a black, viscous matter starts pulling at his limbs. A shame that he can't do that either.

“A little advice, from one trader to another… You should hold your tongue better.”

I snap my fingers, and I grin from ear to ear. My turn to bear my teeth.

It’ll be the last thing he sees.

“Before someone tears it off your mouth.”

Kalerich shoots me a disapproving look.

“Didn’t you just have dinner?”

“Yes, but he was a terrible host. The meat wasn’t even worth touching.”

I walk over to the boat guardrail, and throw my suitcase in the water below. The fishes will have a great feast tonight.

Kalerich frowns.

“Leo? What was in that?”

“Oh, this?”

I smile.

Dream (the goddess) belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author

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Love isn't a gentle thing.

It’s something that, if twisted enough, loses itself into violence. I witnessed that with my own eyes. The scars on my cheek remind me of it every day, should I forget. I don't know what love is if not violence.

I don't believe in love at first sight, either.

Yet love starts with the scratching.

I don’t understand how the elf and my sister got this close, this fast, but what does it matter? Soon enough, she'll be gone. Just like the others.

Or so I thought, because a month goes by. Then three. Nepheli’s still there. She even becomes the ship’s official doctor.

What on earth is Leonova thinking?

She’s useful, is the only explanation she gives when I raise my concerns.

Useful? No, she’s not.

She's in the way. Reckless and stubborn and stupidly hopeful and I have to be there to make sure she doesn't get herself killed. I need to keep her safe. Or Leo will have my head.

So I'm the one using my corrupted form to fight until I collapse.

Either I'm brought back and then I'll keep enduring it all, or no one reaches me in time and it’s probably for the better.

I open my eyes. I’m back.

The one staring at me is not Leo. It's her. Covered in sweat and blood and grime and looking relieved. She brought me back. I didn't think someone other than my sister could.

I don't understand why she would do this. Everyone is afraid of what I could do to them in this form. No one wants to touch me when I'm corrupted. No one. And I was hoping it would stay that way. She should have left me there. She shouldn’t have brought me back. She… gets closer to my face and she looks like she’s going to cry or slap me or both.

Don't you dare look at me like that.

Then I hear it.

The scratching.

Barely noticeable. Like nails on wood.

I ignore it.

She’s always the one who revives me after battle now. She hates it, I can tell, but I'm not going to complain. A doctor must do their job, after all.

But she doesn’t just do her job. Every time, she stays with me until the corruption is healed. She makes sure I'm comfortable, never leaves my side before I’m back to normal.

And every time, the scratching gets a little louder.

When I teach her how to swim and she looks at the stars and asks all the right questions and my answers come as easy as breathing.

Scratching, peeling at something, frenetically.

When I sit next to her at dinner and she's fiddling with her fish and picking out the parts she doesn’t like. It’s kind of endearing to watch.

Scratching, trying to feel the sun, hungering for it.

When she goes out at night to do little dances on the deck because she can't sleep. She’s good, but I feel like this isn't something for other eyes to see, so I stay hidden. And I try not to stare.

Scratching, reaching out through the hole in the clouds, like a moth to a flame.

I always caught myself before stepping over the ledge before. I thought that's how it worked. That if I was careful enough, if I moved with caution, it could be avoided like you avoid a blade in battle.

But it can’t.

Because the blade is already there, right in the middle of your ribcage, the beast is already sleeping in the hole carved under your heart. With one eye open. Waiting. Scratching.

Until she’s next to me on the pier and we drank too much wine and her head’s on my shoulder and the scratching gets so loud and it finally breaks through and suddenly I understand why they say “fall” in love

Because the realization makes me topple over into myself, right into the thought

I’m in love with Ether.

And the feeling turns me into a raw wound.

It claws at my insides and bites my lungs and bangs against my ribs and stretches my stomach and itches the inside of my mouth like it's too big for my body to contain like it wants to unravel my skin and make it so that I'm nothing but a vulnerable exposed beating heart

But it doesn't want to attack

It wants to be taken care of

It wants to speak

It wants to be loved back

But it can't, it can't

It can’t be loved how it loves her

It shouldn't love her

And I hate it, the way it longs to touch her hair and hold her tight and take her hand and run far, far away from all of this, the way it yearns for her presence and how it wants to make her smile, the way it would do anything for her, not because it’s forced to but because it wants to and it burns, it burns

But she laughs and teases me and it feels like cool water and the beast calms down, it’s soothed, content, only I know it's going to tear me apart as soon as she’s gone.

Love isn’t gentle. But Ether is.

Only a kind person would cry this much upon the perfectly reasonable gesture that is stabbing me.

I take the scissors out. Blood spills out on the floor but the beast isn’t dead. It’s never scratched this strong. It's never cried this loud.

The only thing louder are the silent sobs wrecking Ether’s shoulders.

Run.

Please.

Don't go down with me.

And she does and she escaped and I hope a part of me left with her before I pass out.

But I wake up. Again. Leonova hurls profanities at me, for not stopping Ether, for going down so easily, that she thought me more loyal, I don’t even bat an eye.

We both know we didn’t deserve her.

The years after this are cold, lonely, just how they should be.

Until we get hurt and someone else arrives to help. Says she’s the goddess of Dreams. I thought a goddess would look less frail. I thought that if goddesses had a draconic form, it wouldn’t be this small and adorable.

My sister avoids her, all the more reason for me to spend time with her. She’s nice to be around. It feels nice to talk to somebody that isn’t a prison wall or a sister who's slowly going insane or the mediocre company in my own head.

She’s kind, and I missed kindness. She's warm, and I missed warmth.

I missed it. That's all.

…

There’s a tiny, scratching sound at the back of my head.