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Without another word, and with only the slightest of nods, Khaldun gathered the documents from Victoria, and descended below to the comfort of his desk. Far too much had happened in one day. Sinking into his chair, he unfolded the letter from Cameraci and began to read, hoping the contents wouldn't turn the world further on its ear.

Khaldun folded the letter and placed it carefully back in the top-most drawer of the desk. It seemed Cameraci had the same idea as the sea itself, and if so, perhaps he could be trusted. He began to wonder who this man was that he had known ancient kings in his time, but his mind too tired to delve into the matter further, he pulled out a map of Kuzoth, layed it flat on the desk, and attempted to chart a course for the ruins. But it would have to wait for another day, as his eyelids fell shut and their gates were locked for the night.

The following morning promised much calmer seas and favorable winds. For once Morrigan found herself happy to be forced below deck. The endless view of the sea did little to ease her heart or her regrets for her family. Apollo's kind words were good to satisfy the surface pain, but she knew that unless she came to terms with being the last of her once extensive line she would live in misery until the end of her days. With her mind elsewhere she set about helping the cook with the morning meal.

Victoria seemed quite the opposite of the young princess. She knew she was in trouble, and although unsure of the cause or the effects of her late night walk, she thought it would be best to seek a friendly face and hide behind it for protection. At the crack of dawn, her tiny footsteps could be heard making their way into Apollo's room. Climbing into his bed and drawing her bare feet up from the floorboard, she leaned close and tapped his shoulder. "Are you dead yet?"

Daemon in the meanwhile had sought once again to be by himself. Leaving Khaldun a note expressing his whereabouts, Daemon took his journal to the deck for good light to write by. He saw the crew running about doing what was necessary to keep them presumably afloat and on track and felt a momentary stab of guilt that he could not help them with their chores. Feeling useless, he resigned himself to recording his thoughts and feelings into the well-loved bound book.

Only Dorian had not slept. After the others had retired for the night (and rightfully so) Dorian found himself with little to do. Knowing that the railing would need to be repaired, he took what little supplies could be procured in order to put up a makeshift boundary until a more permanent solution could be found. If another problem arose like last night, the flimsy wood would not stand to the beating of a crashing wave. It was mostly for his sense of aesthetics and perhaps to a lesser degree to keep the clumsy Daemon from falling into the sea. He had a strong feeling that the young bookworm had never seen the sea except on holiday and would have certainly done nothing more than look--let alone learn how to swim.

Dorian had finished his work and had been staring at the sea long before Daemon had joined him on deck. Well, to say join would imply that the boy acknowledged the other's existence, which would be entirely wrong. The two men shared a common space above the deck only out of necessity. If it had been up to either the other would be lost to the ocean.

Daemon's dislike of the showy composite was out of a lifetime of being pushed around by men of that very nature. By men who assumed that because they were wealthier or spoke with an easy wit that they were better than he. But Daemon knew that men like Dorian were only good for using their silver tongue and when the curtain fell those who seemed so good at promising results were never there to be part of the work.

Dorian's true problem was not with the boy himself. He had seen many young self-righteous men in his long day and knew that the only cure for such things was time--and lots of it. If he had only known the boy as Daemon Tomas, he would not have been bothered as he was. But that wasn't who the boy was to him. Perhaps it was the fact that Apollo was so often back in the old days, the good days, the days where there was a definite evil and all of those who resided their fate to good (whether by force of cause or coin) knew what they were up against. But no matter the explanation, Dorian could not help but doubt the boy's lineage. He had known the soldier Aryu as well as any (save the lovely Lobelia) and he was not impressed with the dissipation of the line.

Aryu had been a strong man from what he could recall, a loyal man and brave in the face of any danger. He had (foolishly in Dorian's opinion) given his life to protect a royal family of a land he did not belong to. He had even sent every spare coin to his family back home, something that ,while not unheard of, was very uncommon indeed. Aryu was a pillar that everyone could trust and when he was gone all felt the effects. But this boy... He was not stupid but insisted on only following orders. He seemed to stubbornly argue against things that were made plain before his face. It was as though he was purposely trying to make the journey more difficult. Dorian suspected that the boy had not really turned his loyalties away from the Cameraci Corporation. And while that was not a far cry from Aryu's loyalties, Dorian knew the man would never have so willingly placed his trust in anything he did not fully agree with. There were so many things with this boy that did not add up. He dearly wanted to speak to Khaldun about the matter, but knew it would be a waste. The two were in love... well, at least they thought they were. That would change soon if he had anything to do with it. But in the meantime, it caused only more trouble.

But he had been through worse Dorian supposed. Things would all work themselves out in the end. Smelling breakfast, he watched the young boy as he descended to the kitchens to see what had been prepared. Staying up all night had taken a toll only on his stomach, and it was asking to be filled.

"Not shirking!" Daemon had found a sort of playful mood since Dorian disappeared below deck (at least as near such a mood as he could manage). "I'll have you know I'm keeping detailed records of the happenings and whatnot of the ship." Momentarily looking confused, he turned his eyes to Khaldun's face for the first time. "That is part of my duties, is it not?" The serious set of Daemon's face threatened to come crashing down, but he held it off in hopes that Khaldun was merely teasing him again.

Daemon's nervous giggle confessed his inadequacy before his mouth even opened. "Well, no... But that's what a ship is for, yes? To stay between you and the water?" Looking towards the edge, Daemon only now began to think about last night's attack and what difference it could have made should he have fallen over the railing.

It took more than a moment for Khaldun's words to register meaning in Daemon's ears. "You want.... oh no! I'm not going in there!" Tucking his journal into his pocket, Daemon glanced at the sea with some hesitation. Sure looking at something was one thing, but to climb in--and willingly at that!

"If it was just the giant creatures that could gobble you up without a thought, the unexpected waves and pools that drag people under or even the fact that parts of the sea have been known to ice over and trap ships within until they tear them apart, that would be one thing. But as I'm sure you haven't forgotten, there was a giant HAND and a FACE in that thing yesterday! I think I'll take my chances and avoid it as I can!"

Daemon nodded, his good mood slipping away as quick and easy as he would during a storm. What had he been thinking? Of course. Just business. Nothing more.

With downcast eyes Daemon replied, "Yes, of course, sir."

Daemon glanced at Khaldun, unsure if the other man was being serious or not. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

Dorian watched the pair enter and for a moment felt as though he were looking into the past. The confident and cocky sought a response out of the quiet and brooding. "About time our captain saw the light. I thought you were going to sleep the day away, my boy."

Morrigan was quick to offer Daemon and Khaldun both a good bit of the remaining breakfast before returning to her chores.