Eyes closed, mind opened.

I awake on top of the hill, ash still falling as it was before; coating the earth. I look towards the tree, the box of memories still in it's branches. The box has been cracked, and threatens to burst into pieces.

"Oh no."

I rush over to it, climbing the tree, trying to see if I can somehow mend it, but then... I see it.

Me, or, another Me, behind the tree; not as Damian, but as Monster.

It lunges at me, armed with a copy of my hook and blade, yelling. "THERE! THE TRAITOR!"

I duck out of the way of its swing, falling from the tree, shouting out. "What?! What do you mean, traitor?!"

"FOR THE SHE WHO HIDES!" It howls, slashing and chopping towards me with the blade.

The blade makes contact with my flesh, and shatters alongside the body of my double... is that?

Now floating, a monster core bobs back and forth in the air... voices come from it...

"Please..." A familiar snoody voice begs.

"Help..." The slurred words of a drunkard cries.

"Us..."

I awake, cold sweat caking my body. I'm back in my hammock, with Cilla waiting by my side; sat atop a barrel... where did that small satchel on her hip come from?

And why is it jingling.

"Oh good, your awake." She says. "The captain sends her deepest apologies for sending you into another of your fits, in the form of gold."

She pulls the fist sized satchel from her hip, tossing it onto my lap. I stare at it for a long time, as one would a cake they weren't sure they had permission to eat or not.

"Nine gold. Maybe you should have these fits more often, they're quite profitable." Says Cilla, her voice quite tired.

"How long was I out again?" I ask, finally opening the satchel, and getting a good look at my newest shiny objects.

"You had a full nights rest. More than I had, what with making sure you weren't dead, or dying." She pulls from her cloak the book from yesterday on strange forms of magic, showing the bookmark at the end of the book. "A productive night, but mostly worrying. These fits, what causes them."

I pause, seeing her seriousness had returned, then respond. "Memories; of who I was, and what happened before I came to Ruyanei."

Cilla stands, pacing out of sight towards the other side of the room, then returning with a wooden tray of food, which she hands to me. "Hmm... That's going to be an issue, what with you actively searching out this hunch that Tomoko is your lost love."

"It's not just a hunch." I say, ignoring the food for now. "I've seen her symbol of arms... it was the engagement ring I gave her."

Cilla seems... conflicted over this information. Why? It's proof that this hasn't all been for nothing!

"Well then." She says, her voice being its usual blank tone, but... off, somehow. "I do believe you can eat without assistance. Have a good morning, Monster."

Not saying another word, Cilla stands, taking her leave as swiftly as can be. Confused, but hungry, I shrug off what I can of this conversation, and begin to eat my breakfast. Peering over to where Cilla had obtained the food, a foamy mug awaited as well. As I stand, walking to grab it, the beer reminds me of one of the voices I heard just before I awoke... but they're dead. That must have been a bad dream while I slept after my 'fit' as Cilla put it. As well, what's going on with her?

Wanting fresh air after my meal, I place my coins back into my satchel; but keep my first in my pocket, as it felt... special. I take the now empty mug and dirty tray up towards the loud kitchens; filled with day crew having their breakfast before swapping out with their nightly brethren. I see Ashes chatting with that woman from last night, the other Mohun. To Ashes side was Anaz... no, her blouse is re-buttoned, and her hat now points the other way; this is Zana. Gabriella is sitting by none other than the captain, their conversation audible from where I stand, despite the roar of the crew.

"Oh, you don't have too..."

"Oh, I will, little priestess. My next addition to my escorts will be named after your Ariel..."

Wouldn't Mortigan just love to ride that ship...

I walk towards the kitchens, handing the crew manning them my tray and mug. Its then I hear my name being called out by Ashes, somehow managing to be louder than the entire ship.

"Monster! Come over here!" She calls out.

Some of the crew seem confused by someone shouting 'Monster', especially as a few of them are (like their captain) ex-runacathy, but that is of little importance.

I walk over, asking. "Do you need something, Ashes?"

"Come meet Marrow! She's great! And she has a really good idea." She says, bouncing up and down on her seat in excitement.

Marrow is a dark skinned woman, with the sides of her head shaved bare of hair, with what remains of it being bone-white, frizzy; short enough to not fall under its own weight, but long enough to be visible in a crowd. Her height was above Ashes by a few inches, and she was clearly more mature as well, most likely five or six years older.

"Oh, Hello again." Marrow says, waving gently. "And it's less of an idea, more of a proposition."

"You've met already?" Asks Ashes.

"Oh yes, last night he came up on deck, and was splashed by sea spray. I dried him off with a spell." Explains the woman with the strange tattoo.

"What's this proposition?" I ask, hoping to the gods its not like the last two 'propositions' I've received.

"Well, I'm told you use a horde hook, correct?"

I nod.

Marrow explains. "One of the crew, a... 'friend' of mine, has experience fighting against those hooks. He has the day shift, but his job is as a deck guard. Uneventful. So, I was thinking of setting you two up to spar. According to my kin here, you're going to need the practice."

Perfect! Now I can actually get some experience in combat with my weapons.

"Whats his name?" I ask.

She replies. "Darrin Hoffman."

I nearly fall out of my chair.

Regaining balance, trying (and failing) to keep calm, I ask. "Hoffman....would he by any chance be related to a man named Sarmenti Hoffman?

"Oh, have you had a bad run in with one of his other House members?" Marrow asks, confused as to my reaction.

"You could say that..." I reply, a shiver going up and down my spine, the fire...

Trying to inform and comfort me, she says. "Well, the Hoffman House isn't a 'family' anymore. So they probably aren't related. Could be, but I doubt it; not enough Hoffman's of the old bloodline remain for much blood to be shared in the House.."

Wait, this is a chance to learn more about Him, directly from someone of the same 'House', whatever that means...

"Alright, I'd like to spar with him."

"Darrin! Get over here!"