It had been two weeks since they defeated the Deep.
The memories of the battle still clung to them like sea salt in their lungs, but the tides had not waited.
The merchant vessel that had rescued them ferried them part of the way, before they transferred to a Tidecaller ship bound for the archipelago.
The ship now creaked gently beneath them, sails catching the wind. It was one of the older elegant Tidecaller models. It glided like a spirit fish through the water, quiet and swift.
The hull had been repaired in places with resin sealed driftwood, and its figurehead was that of a twin-tailed dolphin entwined with silver kelp.
Ren stood alone on the deck, leaning against the rail. The sea stretched out before him, broken only by the outline of a distant island.
Seta.
The familiar scent of salt and jungle reached his nose on the wind, blending with the scent of fish oil and dried fruit that clung to the ship.
It had been months since they entered the Deep.
