Aboard the Burning Whore

When the last stomp concluded Obara's song, an almost eerie calm took hold of the Burning Whore, only disturbed by the ever so gentle sloshing of the waves against the hull and the odd screech of the gulls.

The Sisters all  stood in silence and took a moment to contemplate the past day and its commotions, and Doreah was sure most of them also thought about what destiny might bring for their new.. friends.

The captain didn't yet know what exactly these misfits were, but they were decent people for sure, and that alone was a welcome oddity among the usual folks her and her sisters came upon normally. 
Just being reminded of the fanatics they had crossed paths with last month made her skin crawl.

The Mariposa set sail and slowly picked up speed, and Doreah turned around and took a last long look at the stony plateau that had almost claimed Yylia's life. 

Time to get away from this damn place. 

"Ladies!" she barked, and followed it up by bringing her hands together in an audible clap. "Let's get moving. The air reeks of bird shit, and I'd like to sleep without a perfumed cloth above my nose tonight."

That earned her a chuckle from An'Shuk and Trystana, and the crew scrambled to carry out her order. 

"Sarella! My cabin in five." 

"It did what exactly?" 

"Told you already. Storm of leaves, so solid I couldn't see past it. Only a few seconds though, and since then it's almost like I can.. feel the thing? Not like I feel these beauties..", Sarella's hand quickly stroked the knives at her thighs, "but like it's part of my body. Hard to explain, really. But it's like it's connected to me, an extension of myself, and at the same time something completely different.. Old, ancient almost. Scares me, but at the same time it's calming.

Fuck, I've had enough of these ancient artifacts. Every time we get hired to acquire one, shit goes south. Remember that time we stole that cloaking sphere? Holy smokes.."

"I do." Doreah replied. In truth, every time she took a commission of that sort for her crew, every part of her wanted to decline and walk away instead. But such was life. 

The most dangerous and perilous adventures paid best, plus they had a reputation to uphold.

"But now that we have it" she said and shot the priceless, ornamented dagger on the table a glance "We can maybe pay off some of that debt." She frowned. 

"If not the whole bunch. If half of what they tell about this blacksmith guy is true, that blade alone is worth a duchy."

And with a faint smirk the captain added: "Don't lose it."

"Not sure if I could." Sarella retorted. "Like I said, grown together at the wrists. Literally."

"Hm." Doreah was already lost in thoughts again, looking at the stylized flower of the pommel. "Maybe we.." 

The cabin door flew open and crashed against the wall. 

The captain's head turned. Within the time she had taken for that small movement, Sarella had already unsheathed her knives and gotten down low, holding her weapons close like a scorpion ready to strike. 

Doreah would never stop marvelling at the swashbuckler's prowess.

They were greeted with an unsettling, but unfortunately not unfamiliar sight.

The door frame was occupied by Yylia. But of course it wasn't really her.

Her face was expressionless, her one good eye closed like she was sleeping. If she really was in these moments, Doreah had never dared to ask.

But her other eye, the one she had lost all these years ago, was wide open.

The eyeball was replaced by heatless fire, glowing maliciously, and the pitch black pupil amidst it scanned the room restlessly, moving around faster than even Sarella could.

"I see you acquired the blade. Good." The voice, coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, filling the room with its booming presence, sounded like it was composed of a hundred single voices culminating in one, as usual. 

"It was about time. Bring it to me, and fast. You will sail through the nights and rest no sooner than you will have delivered it to me. Time flies."

Doreah took the order without batting an eye, despite everything inside of her cramping painfully. 

But her own discomfort could wait. As soon as the voice had stopped speaking, Yylia's other eye closed and she collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Sarella was at her side before she hit the ground and caught her head, sparing her from a concussion.

Of course this had been bound to happen. 

Doreah had already suspected last night. Headache. Just an ordinary headache. Sure.

Stupid Yylia, brave Yylia. The captain herself had no idea of the torments she must have endured just to make that one evening of revels and celebration possible for them, even if they had celebrated her being alive.

"She's not breathing." Sarella said it calmly, but that didn't change the message.

Panicked, Doreah hurried over. "Hey!" 

She lightly slapped her unconscious sister in the face. "Are you with me?" 

She felt her pulse and was beyond relieved when she noticed Yylia's heart was still beating. Weakly, but beating. Suddenly, the woman on the ground spluttered. With a deep inhale she snapped into a sitting position, her lungs trying to fill themselves with as much air as they could get hold of. 

Then she fell into a violent cough when her lungs noticed they had overworked themselves. 

Doreah grabbed her shoulder and tried to radiate strength. That was the only thing she could do for her younger sister in such moments.

She waited until Yylia's body had mostly recovered. "Ordinary headache, hm?"

Yylia looked at her, her good eye bloodshot. "Ordinary headache." She confirmed.

Then she laughed. Only a little, but it was enough to show she was still there, unchanged. 

Doreah embraced her in a rough hug. A little too rough maybe, but to both of them that said more than a thousand words. She held her sister until her heart rate had gone back to normal, and then another minute for good measure. 

Then she got up and nodded towards Sarella who was waiting at the door, but really speaking to Yylia. 

"I'll give the order. Let's get this shit over with."

And so they sailed.