Within his dreams, Darma found himself aboard a ship once more.
Purple lightning split the heavens behind him, while waves rose like towering walls of water. The crew was terrified. The deck reeked of vomit, and at night Darma listened to the men's whispered prayers—the very prayers they would deny uttering when morning came.
Notza burst into the cabin, his face as pale as a sail.
"Darma... I don't think we're surviving this storm."
"We don't have a choice. Either we outlast it, or it outlasts us. Pull yourself together, man. We've weathered worse."
Notza tried to steady himself.
"Maybe we have. This ship hasn't."
"Those purple bolts are getting closer. The timbers are groaning. The rigging's stretched to its limit."
"The oysters are glowing and the mermaids are singing," Darma replied dryly. "Do you actually have something useful to contribute, or have you decided to become a bard at the end of your life?"
"There's a ship on the horizon."
"A ship?"
"Here?"
"In the Vespian Sea?"
"Besides us?"
"Yes."
"It flies no flag."
"It's neither from the Hidden Lands nor the Trident."
"Pirates?"
"Maybe."
"It's a small vessel."
"A military ship?"
"Hardly."
Darma frowned.
"What do you mean, hardly? How is that possible? And if it's truly unguarded, then it isn't carrying anything worth taking. Why risk it?"
"For the ship itself, Kraken."
"The ship?"
"The smaller vessel is riding out the storm much better than ours. This one is falling apart. If we stay aboard much longer, we'll end up at the bottom of the Vespian."
"I hate whining, Notza."
"It's a smaller ship."
"Can we catch it?"
"Easily."
"It doesn't seem to be heading anywhere."
"It looks more like it's searching for something."
"Searching for what? There's no land for miles beyond rocks and little islands crawling with monsters."
"I don't know."
"Maybe everyone aboard is dead."
"Maybe it's simply drifting."
"Nonsense."
"It would've sunk—or smashed itself against the rocks."
"Don't expect easy prey."
"If only a handful of people are sailing her, they're capable sailors. They wouldn't have made it this far otherwise."
"Ready the men."
"Get the grappling hooks."
"And tell them to take this seriously."
"Our lives depend on it."
From the very beginning, Darma had felt uneasy.
His instincts warned him.
He chose to ignore them.
Moments later, the two ships collided.
The battle was fierce.
The opposing crew really was small.
Three humans.
An elven woman.
And a Sarkanta from the Isle of Dragons.
The last fought Darma himself like a wild beast.
He failed to seize their ship...
...but he refused to let them escape.
If the Vespian claimed them...
...then it would claim everyone.
In one final flight, back when his wings still carried him, Darma soared high into the storm until both ships looked like tiny rafts upon the sea.
Then...
...he became stone.
He fell with terrifying weight.
The impact shattered the enemy deck before driving him straight through it and into the seabed below.
The fall cost him his wings.
Encased in stone, he heard the screams of drowning men—his own crew and the strangers alike—as the black waters of the Vespian swallowed them all.
If I die...
...none of you will live either.
That was Darma.
The Stone Kraken.
He felt no pity.
Not even for his own men.
They had all drowned that day.
He simply refused to lose.
Nothing else mattered.
Of all the monstrous things he had done...
...that was perhaps the vilest.
It burned within him with unbearable shame.
Its weight had become an anchor chained to his soul.
He knew that something had changed that night.
When the sand rose from the seabed after his fall...
...something had awakened.
Within the silent darkness, where everything was black and still...
...a silver line tore across the horizon.
Half-asleep within his stone prison, Darma had ignored it.
Now...
Within the dream...
Within the memory...
...he finally understood.
The old legend had been true.
Whenever mortals committed terrible sins...
Whenever they performed acts so cruel and wicked that they stained their souls...
...a gateway opened from the Abyss.
And from beyond it...
...a demon watched.
Sin created a bridge to the mortal world.
A bridge built from human weakness...
...from evil...
...from corruption.
Across that bridge...
...demons walked.
Such a bridge had been born that night.
And through it...
...she had been watching him.
Now he finally recognized her gaze.
Piercing.
Intoxicating.
Sinfully beautiful.
It burned inside him like black fire.
Whatever price it demanded...
...he no longer cared.
He only wanted to smell her skin once more.
The thought alone intoxicated him, both within the dream...
...and after waking.
For the first time in many years, however...
...the anchor chained to Darma's soul had returned.
And it showed no sign of ever leaving.
"I'm waiting for you."
The voice echoed inside his mind.
"I'm coming..."
"That isn't enough, my dear."
"Coming isn't enough."
"What else do you want me to do?"
"I want you to kill him."
"Who?"
"Arsik."
"Because if you don't..."
"He'll kill me."