* * *
The warmth of the Zephyrus’galley wrapped around them with the rich scent of spiced stew and salted sea. Around a battered wooden table, the group devoured their first real meal in days. Cookie seemed almost happy to see them. Almost. He hovered nearby, ladling additional portions into their tin plates with a grunt of finality.
It wasn’t until they had washed the blood and dirt from their skin and changed into clean clothes that the gravity of everything they’d endured settled in. They found themselves gathered in the captain’s quarters, where Garrett sat behind his desk, his eyes studying them with expectation.
The captain’s mouth lifted in an affectionate grin. "What have I missed?
The group exchanged hesitant glances.Where could we even begin?
Vivienne inhaled deeply, steadied her hands, and reached into her tote. A hush fell over the cabin as she slowly withdrew a single, silver-petaled bloom. The Noctilum’s pulsing blue glow cast ethereal streaks of light across the cabin walls.
Garrett leaned forward in his chair, his sea-green eyes darkening with intrigue. "What in the name of the gods…?" he murmured.
"This is a Noctilum," Lewis began, his voice conveying his expertise. "It only blooms under the full moon's light."
"Since we didn’t have one," Florence added, "Banner here had the brilliant idea to make our own—with mirrors."
Garrett’s eyes darted to Vivienne, his expression unreadable.
Vivienne nodded, her fingers curling protectively around the flower’s fragile stem. "Its petals healed Owen from the venomous bite of a Zhalak," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it's the tribute from Verdance we need to bring to Velorien—to break the curse."
A beat of charged silence filled the room.
Garrett exhaled sharply. His roughened fingers drummed against the desk’s surface as his gaze swept across their faces, taking in every bruise, every shadow of exhaustion, every scar of their ordeal. "Tell me everything."
And so, they did.
Time blurred as they recounted every trial they had faced since their separation. The narrow escapes, the impossible odds, the horrors lurking in Verdance’s depths. They told him of the Apocrita, of the way the canyon crumbled around them, of the hallucinations brought on by the cursed flowers.
They described the monstrous Zhalak, its rows of jagged teeth, the way it had nearly taken Owen’s life. They detailed Enyo’s relentless pursuit, the Arachsylphs with their magical silk, the goddess’ cave, and the mysterious carvings whispering secrets of a forgotten past.
When they spoke of Florence’s captivity, her forced hand in detonating explosives to clear Enyo’s path to the cave, the room darkened with a collective, simmering fury.
"Every time I refused to help him," Florence said, her voice raw, "he killed another of our crew."
The air grew heavy. The cold, invisible weight of loss settled in their bones. Then, they reached the hardest truth of all.
Vivienne hesitated before speaking, but she felt Cirrus’ hand brush against hers beneath the table, encouraging her. She met the captain’s gaze, her words carefully measured.
"Fendwyr is responsible for destroying the civilization on Verdance."
The room stilled. All of the oxygen seemingly extracted.
"The murals. The carvings. The mass graves. The remains. Every piece of evidence points to the same conclusion," she continued, her voice tight. "Fendwyr slaughtered these people. Burned their elders at the ruins. Set fire to their children while they were still alive."
The captain sat motionless, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t interrupted once. Instead, he absorbed every word, every devastating truth, until at last, he leaned back in his chair and let out a slow, composing breath.
"After you’ve rested," he said finally, his voice measured, deliberate, "I want every detail captured in our field logs. I’ll place them under lock and key in my quarters—away from prying eyes."
His next words were scarcely above a whisper. "Blume, find a way to preserve the Noctilum. And for now, this information stays between the six of us."
They understood. If the wrong person got word of this, the consequences could be catastrophic. Fendwyr’s allies would crumble. Its kingdom could fall into chaos. And King Berius? He wouldn’t let a truth like this see the light of day. He would permanently silence those who knew his secrets.
The captain dismissed them one by one, insisting they rest—but just as Vivienne turned to leave, his voice stopped her. "Banner, stay a moment."
She sank back into a chair across from him.
Garrett stared at her, his usual gruffness making way for something gentler, something unspoken. "My girl," he said quietly, his sea-green eyes searching hers. "I know this journey has been hard on you. You didn’t choose this life at sea. You didn’t choose any of this."
