His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to dimness.
He sat up. His body ached but in a normal way. The deep, fundamental pain was gone.
And he was crying.
He had tears running down his face like they had been waiting for permission and finally got it. His cheeks were wet. His eyes burned.
'What the hell.'
He wiped at his face with the back of his hand. The tears kept coming. Silent. Relentless.
"You are awake."
Ayame sat beside the bed. Close but not touching. Her dark eyes watched him with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if it were not so obviously concerned.
"I am fine," he said. His voice came out rough. Thick with emotion he could not name.
"You are crying."
"Tears are just water leaving my face. Very normal. Happens to everyone."
"Lucid."
"I said I am fine."
The door burst open. Arthur strode in looking like he had not slept in days. Relief flooded his face the moment he saw Lucid sitting up.
"Thank god," Arthur said. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled Lucid into a hug that was entirely unexpected and entirely genuine.
Lucid froze. Then slowly, awkwardly, hugged back.
"You scared the hell out of us," Arthur said into his shoulder.
"I scared myself," Lucid admitted. He laughed despite everything. The sound came out shaky but real. "What happened?"
"You collapsed. Bled everywhere. We found a healer who stabilized you but could not explain why." Arthur pulled back, hands on Lucid's shoulders. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got trampled by horses. Then the horses came back for round two."
"So normal."
"Exactly."
Arthur's expression softened. "Ayame would not leave your side. I had to physically drag her to the door just to get her to eat. She was very insistent about staying."
Lucid looked at Ayame. She met his gaze with that same unblinking intensity.
"I am sorry."
"Do not apologize. Just do not do it again."
"I will try."
***
Sometime later, he stood at the edge of the harbor district, watching the chaos unfold like a stage play where everyone had memorized their lines but nobody agreed on which play they were performing.
'This is where the queen sent us. To a smelling city. Fantastic.'
Port Vexis sprawled in every direction with the organic chaos of something that had grown rather than been planned. Buildings stacked on buildings. Merchant stalls erupted from spaces that should not have been able to hold them. Ships bobbed in water that looked questionable at best and actively hostile at worst.
Arthur stepped into the flow of foot traffic with the confidence of someone who had dealt with crowds before. Ayame followed like a shadow that had decided walking upright was more efficient. Lucid brought up the rear, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.
A hand grabbed his sleeve before he had taken three steps.
"Young master!"
The voice belonged to a man whose beard had clearly given up trying to coordinate with his face. Organized chaos had become just chaos. His eyes held the particular gleam of someone who had perfected the art of spotting marks.
'Oh no. Here we go.'
"Young man, please! I have exactly what you need!"
Lucid looked at the hand on his sleeve. Then at the man's face. Then at the table behind him covered in glass vials filled with liquid that looked like it had been filtered through someone's boot.
"I do not think you know what I need," Lucid said with as much politeness as he could muster.
"Healing potions! Genuine! Blessed by the Luminari Covenant itself!"
The liquid was brown. Murky. It had sediment floating in it that moved in ways sediment should not move.
'That is dishwater. That is literally dishwater and he wants me to drink it.'
"How much?" Lucid asked, genuinely curious about the economics of selling obvious garbage.
"Twenty gold per vial! Special price!"
"I will pass."
"Fifteen gold! Just for you!"
"Still no."
The merchant's enthusiasm did not waver. "Ten gold! Final offer! You will not find better quality anywhere in Port Vexis!"
'I could find better quality by dipping a cup in the harbor and that is saying something.'
Arthur appeared at Lucid's elbow with practiced timing. He placed a hand on Lucid's shoulder and steered him away from the merchant with the smooth efficiency of someone who had rescued people from scams before.
"You are too polite," Arthur said once they were out of earshot.
"I was perfectly appropriately polite."
"You engaged with him. That was the mistake."
"He grabbed my arm! What was I supposed to do, ignore him?"
"Yes. Exactly that." Arthur navigated through the crowd with the confidence of someone who knew how bodies moved and where gaps would appear. "You engage, they think you are interested. You think you are interested, they have already won."
'Is this the culture here? Is scamming just accepted? Should I be scamming people? Do I need to start lying professionally to fit in?'
After the seventh attempted scam, Arthur changed direction. Away from the merchant chaos. Toward open air and the promise of water.
The beach was not beautiful in any traditional sense. Grey sand stretched along the harbor like an apology. Stained by industry. Marked by commerce. But the water was clearer than it had any right to be. The air was cooler. The sound of waves drowned out the merchant voices.
"We should rest," Arthur announced with the tone of someone who was not making a suggestion.
"I am fine," Lucid said automatically.
"You collapsed two days ago."
"And I am fine now."
"Humor me."
They found a spot where the sand was less aggressively grey. Arthur crouched and began building something with geometric precision. A sandcastle.
Ayame stood at the water's edge. Looking out at the harbor. Then her hands moved to the clasp at her shoulder.
The robe fell away.
Lucid very deliberately looked at the sky.
'Do not look. That is rude. That is incredibly rude. Look at clouds. Clouds are safe.'
But peripheral vision was a traitor.
She was tall. Taller than he had realized with the robe hiding her proportions. Her skin was pale. Not sickly pale but luminous. Like moonlight had decided to take physical form. Slight muscle definition traced her shoulders and arms. Not bulky but present a reminder that this body was built for function.
The bandages wrapped her chest where the chains sat beneath. White fabric against pale skin. Her form beneath them curved in ways that suggested softness despite the warrior build. Her thighs were what generous people would call athletic and honest people would call dangerously distracting.
Her hair, freed from the robe, cascaded down her back in inky black waves that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
'Oh. Oh no. Do not stare. Staring is bad. Staring is how you get killed.'
She dove into the water without hesitation.
Arthur appeared beside Lucid holding something aggressively orange.
"No," Lucid said.
"Yes."
"Absolutely not."
"You are wearing the life jacket."
"I can swim!"
"You can also bleed from your eyes randomly." Arthur's voice was patient. "Life jacket is non negotiable."
"And where the hell did you even get that from?!" Lucid eyed the orange thing it clearly looked something that was modern.
The thing was bright orange. Bulky. Designed for maximum visibility and minimum dignity.
'I hate this. I hate everything about this.'
Arthur helped him into it. The straps were tight. The whole contraption made him feel like a child being prepared for their first swimming lesson by overly cautious parents.
He waded into the water feeling every bit as ridiculous as he looked.
Ayame surfaced nearby. Water streamed from her hair. Droplets caught sunlight and scattered it like tiny prisms across her shoulders.
She looked at the life jacket. Her expression did not change but something flickered in her dark eyes.
"Not a word," Lucid said.
"I said nothing."
"You were thinking it loud enough."
She swam past him. Graceful. Fluid. Completely at ease in water in ways that made Lucid feel even more awkward bobbing in his orange safety device.
He floated. The life jacket kept him embarrassingly buoyant. Like a cork. Like a particularly useless piece of human shaped driftwood.
'This is humiliating on levels I did not know existed.'
But Ayame swam circles around him. Slow. Lazy. Her movements created small currents that rocked him gently. Her pale skin seemed to swallow sunlight. Her tall form cut through water with practiced ease. Droplets clung to her shoulders, her collarbone, the bandages wrapped around her chest.
'Stop looking. You are being creepy. Focus on literally anything else.'
She surfaced directly in front of him. Close enough that he could see water droplets on her eyelashes.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
Lucid's brain scrambled. "Your bandages."
"My bandages?"
"They are getting soaked. That cannot be comfortable."
She looked down at herself. Considered the observation with the same seriousness she brought to tracking threats.
"I suppose so," she said.
They floated in silence. Just water and sunlight and the distant sound of Arthur engineering perfection out of sand.
Arthur had removed his shirt at some point. Scars crossed his back in patterns that told stories Lucid did not know how to read. Slight muscle definition traced his shoulders and arms. Athletic. Built from daily training rather than vanity.
Lucid looked down at himself. Scars on his arms from chains and fights and things he tried not to remember. Slight muscle definition that felt pathetic compared to the two people flanking him. A tan from sun exposure that did nothing to hide how much smaller his frame was.
'I look like someone's younger brother who got dragged to the beach out of obligation. They are warriors. I am a guy who's not only inexperienced... but apparently someone who also needs a life jacket.'
He sighed
***
Sometime later, they hauled themselves back to shore eventually. Arthur had acquired fish from somewhere. He grilled them over a small fire built with the same precision he brought to everything. The smell made Lucid's stomach remind him that eating was important.
They sat in a rough circle. Eating grilled fish that tasted like salt and smoke. Not speaking much. Just existing together without urgency.
"This is nice," Lucid said.
Arthur nodded. "It is."
The sun descended. Orange. Pink. Purple. Harbor lights flickered on one by one.
Arthur stood eventually. "I need to register us at the courthouse. Official business."
"Bureaucracy even during crisis," Lucid muttered.
"Should not take long."
Lucid looked at the harbor. At lights reflecting on dark water. "I heard a name. While we were in the market. Jing Xiu. A medic. Practices in the merchant district somewhere."
"You want to find them?"
"Might be useful. Given my tendency to collapse."
Ayame stood immediately. "I will go with you."
"No," Lucid said.
She looked at him. Searching.
"I need to do this alone," he continued. Gentle but firm. "Just for a bit."
"You collapsed."
"And I am fine now."
"Lucid." Her voice carried vulnerability. "I do not want you to get hurt."
He met her eyes. Let her see this was important.
"Go back to the tavern. Rest. I will be back before you know it."
She opened her mouth. Saw something in his expression. Nodded slowly.
"The tavern. But if you are not back by nightfall, I am coming to find you."
"Deal."
They parted ways.
Lucid stood alone on the beach.
'Alright. Time to find a medic in a city I do not know while recovering from mysteriously bleeding from my eyes. This is either very productive or very stupid.'
The odds were honestly even.
He walked into Port Vexis proper. Alone. Determined. Only slightly terrified.
The city swallowed him whole.