Sid rushed out into the pelting rain and howling winds, joining Jerral on the deck. When all were present to his summons, he pointed deep into the storm. It was hard to see in the grey and gloom, but there, in the distance, was a star.

"Lighthouse!" Jerral proclaimed. "The Stairway is there!"

Then he set them to man the ship. None, save the Guide, had experience on such a large vessel, so it was rough going.

"Don't worry, this is a weirdwrought ship!" Jerral explained, making his way to the wheel. "Even you amateurs will be fine! Just follow my orders!"

They obeyed and they pitched to port, cutting into the storm's fierce winds and toward the lighthouse.

Rain lashed wood and sail, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, rattling bones and planks.

Sid, along with the other Climbers, ran to and fro on the slippery deck, seeing to the tasks that needed to be done, hauling the ropes and lashing the sail, all while attempting not to be swept off the ship by the ever-growing waves. Even the nobles rushed around at the Guide's expert direction. His voice boomed over the roar of the storm with the help of some magic.

If Sid had to guess, the Ability was from a Treasure, likely the small bronze talisman in the shape of a horn that hung upon a thick bracelet of the same metal.

For nine brutal, cold minutes, they toiled through the squall and sheeting rain.

Sid was by the edge of the ship when she was struck in the small of the back. The sudden surprise and sheer impact drove the wind from her lungs and sent her toppling forward. She collided with the railing, and quickly she clung to it, arresting herself before she plunged into he violent waters below. On instinct, she cast her Wind Barrier, the rain spun around her, caught in the powerful surge of air.

She glared around, looking for what had hit her. There was no one close by and no object that had come loose. Then she saw Lord Ballast peek out from behind the mast and point an open palm at her. A bolt of water sped through the air, almost invisible in the grey of the rain. With a thump, it struck her protective dome of wind and was scattered. Sid snarled and reached for her bow, only to find she didn't have it as it lay below the deck with her pack, boots and blade.

Sid spat a curse and grabbed a dagger from her belt. She coated the blade in Wind Strike and hurled it at the nobleman. It spun end over end, but even covered in its own spinning air, the blade was blown off course by the storm. It wouldn't have mattered. Lord Ballast ducked into cover, and the dagger struck the mast, carving a groove in the wood.

A spike of stone ripped past the left side of Sid's head, narrowly missing her. It hadn't come from behind the mast, which meant another attacker. She activated her belt's Aspect of the Serpent Imbuement, and the world slowed around her. That was the telltale effect of the increased Reflex it conferred, she needed it if she were to face this new foe.

Lord Scarford, his scaled brow furrowed, pointed a foot-long wand of spiralling stone. Another spike of the same substance was summoned and hovered at the wand's tip for a moment before it soared towards Sid. The other Lord joined the offence, loosing another bolt of water.

Sid's Wind Barrier only lasted for moments and had already ceased swirling around her. She cast it again as she avoided the more deadly of the two spells, the spike streaked over her as she dropped into a crouch.

From there, she was forced to dodge another set of attacks, her back struck the railing behind her, and she almost fell overboard again. Furiously, Sid searched for the other members of the team. She saw that the Guide was distracted by the servant, who pointed into the distance fervently.

Lady Whitewater watched on with a worried look on her face, glancing between the fight and the faraway lighthouse. She didn't move to help either side, which could be considered a lucky break.

Mr. Seastone was busy with ropes, while the bodyguard was helping Ms. Cloudforth, who had seemingly almost been swept up by a wave and had almost been pulled off the ship's side.

Diving forward, Sid made for the mast and the man behind it. She hoped to be on him before he could react. Her Light Steps and Fleet passives let her dash across the deck with a speed that surprised even herself. The Lord's eyes went wide as another of his Water Bolts splashed harmlessly off the shield of wind she conjured between them.

Sid leapt, tackling the Lord around the waist. A hasty barrier shielded him from the brunt of the impact, but she brought him low, slamming him on the boards beneath. She crawled over him in an instant. He struggled to get free, but her skill in the Arte Pugilist let her overpower any attempts he made to slip out from under her.

Sid started raining punches on the noble's fearful face. One after the other. The satisfying cracks and thumps were a music to her ears. The skin on her knuckles broke, and her fists ached, but that pain was nothing compared to the brutal beating she was meting out. Red splattered the deck and was washed away by rain.

"Stop," the man spat bloodily. "Get off me!"

Sid had no words to waste on him. Agony was all she would give him.

Both her arms were caught by an invisible binding, which stopped her strikes. As she fought the magic, the noble below her surged with strength and rolled atop her. She grunted, but kept the motion going, twisting in such a way as to remain in control of the grapple. Then they rolled again, viciously, getting ever closer to the ship's edge. Sid pushed against the magic holding her, and after a great mental shove, the binding finally broke. Her hands seized upon the nobleman's neck. She squeezed, strangling him.

His own hands found her wrists and, with terrible power, pulled them away. Sid couldn't match whatever magic had enhanced him, but she was far more adept at brawling. Her arms slithered from his grip. Dark green ooze swirled up her arm and lingered on her fingernails as she activated Venom Strike.

Sid clawed at him in a frenzied swipe, and the skin of his already bruised and bloody face split. He shrieked.

In that moment, she wished she had talons like the Nightshark possessed, fine, sharp and pointed; she could have done far more harm with razors like those. She could leave scars that he would remember forever.

The merfolk nobleman rushed them and aimed a hefty, water-wreathed kick at Sid's head. She ducked and pulled the still screaming Lord into the attack's path. It landed with a heavy thud, breaking his shoulder.

The Lord roared in new pain, scrabbling away from Sid as the other cursed. She took her chance to stand, swinging her arm with an uppercut that roiled with whipping wind.

Her fist bounced off Lord Scarford's barrier. It seemed like everyone had one of those damn rings. She activated her own, the one she had taken from a Browncoat's corpse, and she was lucky she did. The merfolk noble had drawn his rapier, wrapped it in water and thrust forward. The point impacted and the blade bent as the barrier dissipated.

Though the metal didn't touch her, the water did, slamming into her chest and making her stagger backwards. Not for the first time, she cursed the fact that her Wind Barrier Ability and the one Imbued in her Treasure ring interfered with each other. If not, she would have been able to block both the sword and the Water Strike.

"Stop fighting!" The Guide yelled through the storm. "Cease this foolishness right now!"

He'd finally noticed the battle, and he stared down darkly at the scene before him.

All stood still for a moment. The deck tilted under their feet and lightning flashed in the sky.

Lord Scarford moved first, sliding his rapier into its sheath. Then, just as Sid, who was panting, sucking in harsh breaths, began to turn, he charged her.

She activated her ring, but the noble wasn't trying to stab or punch her. Instead, he used every ounce of force to push her over the railing she had her back to. The shield took some of that force, though it wasn't nearly enough, not with the slant of the ship and the slippery wood.

Sid toppled over the edge and again found herself clutching to the railing for dear life. Lord Scarford was about to stomp on her hands, but met some unseen resistance, unable to move his leg.

"Don't you dare!" The Guide shouted.

Sid's eyes scanned for help, her arms ached badly, and she couldn't pull herself up without aid.

Both the bodyguard and Ms. Cloudford came rushing.

The bodyguard arrived first.

There was a scream and a shout of outrage as the bodyguard kicked the railing she was hanging onto. He struck with such might that the weirdwrought wood burst into kindling and splinters, throwing her from the ship.

Sid stomped the air, trying to find a footing with Wind Step, but that only caused her to tumble more eratically.

Spinning, she fell into the sea and was swallowed by the waves.

It was terribly cold in these waters, though it was nothing she hadn't endured before. Sid ignored the protests of her muscles and swam back to the surface. Her head breached the water and she stared around at the roiling sea and rampant rains. She searched for the ship and saw it sailing away with a surprising swiftness.

Sid swam, and when she found she couldn't fight the waves that tossed her, she dived. Beneath those waves, the currents still pushed and pulled with irresistible might. Sid only struggled harder; she wouldn't die to drowning, in a Spire or out. She wouldn't let that be her fate.

A blade, a bolt through the heart, burning to ash from a tongue of flame. Those were all ways to die right. Drowning. Drowning was nothing; it was common. Unremarkable. Sid couldn't take it if she died that way, as just another drowned gutter rat.

She sped to the surface again, popping up amongst the waves.

Sid despaired.

The ship was even further away and there was no way to catch it. And there, right at the railing, she could see the team all searching the sea with their eyes. Sid waved her arms. The Guide saw her, then grimaced and shook his head.

No salvation there.

Ms Cloudforth was weeping, the Lady Whitewater was aghast, one pale hand over her mouth. The Lords stared down at her smugly while the bodyguard grimly watched on.

The bruised but grinning face of Lord Ballast sparked a fire in her chest, and she decided right then that if she couldn't catch up, she would take him with her. She pointed her finger at the man and activated her goblin chief's ring.

The word she spoke was lost to the wind, and the magic wasted.

Desperately, Sid concentrated, focused on the swirling magic inside her. She guided its tempestuous power to her lungs and throat, filling the air within them with strength.

She activated the ring again, pointing at her foe.

"Dive!"

This time Essence of Air poured into her command, her lungs clenched as if squeezed by a titan, and the word tore out of her throat like it was loosed from a bow. It carried through the storm on an unassailable wind of its own.

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The order reached Lord Ballast in only moments. He stiffened, trembled, then obeyed. He leapt with all the grace of a duck and plunged into the sea.

Sid grinned savagely and laughed. It was a harsh sound, then she started to cough. Whatever she had done with her magic had left her throat raw. Her lungs ached with pinpricks of pain. It was like she'd breathed out a gust of broken glass.

The faces of those at the ship's edge twisted and paled further. The Guide commanded those around him, gesturing at the sail, the wheel and then pointing at the lighthouse whose dim outline had come into view.

"Now!" He shouted so loud that even Sid could hear him.

Jerral turned, searched the sea and pulled something the size of a coin from his small leather belt bag. It lit up like a lantern, shrieking, then it was as bright as a burning torch. He threw the cascading scarlet fire into the air and it sped into the sky, leaving a trail of red smoke. When it reached the apex of its arc, it hung there for a moment before streaking away with a scream.

The Guide watched it fly away, then turned his eyes back to the water, his gaze locking first on Sid before sliding onto the thrashing form of Lord Ballast. Jerral stepped back several feet, then leapt off the side of the ship with a running jump.

Sid came to the quick conclusion that the Guide would save the nobleman, though he wouldn't bother to rescue her. She swam towards the Lord, knowing that her only chance to survive in these open waters was to follow them as best she could.

She was swiftly proven right in her assumption. The Guide reached the Lord and forced a water-breathing potion on him. He choked it down as Sid grew closer and closer.

"Give me one!" She shouted hoarsely.

Jerral turned to her with a scowl of absolute annoyance and barely stifled hostility. Still, he reached into his coat and threw her a potion. He missed, deliberately, and it sank below the waters. Sid cursed, but dived for it. Even if it only lasted an hour, that was an hour of life.

It only took her thirty seconds to seize upon the glass bottle, and another fifteen to get back to the surface and drink it. She felt the warming liquid fill her chest, then spread to her lungs. It wasn't the foul mixture she herself had brought; it was a potion of far higher quality. It went down as smooth as whisky, tasting of sugar with a hint of a herb she couldn't name. If she could order it at a tavern, it could have become her favourite drink.

Sid didn't have time to enjoy it. The Guide had taken advantage of the minute she had wasted under the water. He was already many yards away, swimming and pulling along the injured, exhausted Lord.

While Jerral looked to be an expert swimmer, the same could not be said for his charge.

Sid, though she also wasn't a strong swimmer and her bones weighed her down, slowly caught up. It was wearisome, and more than once she was thrown about by a wave or was pushed off course by a current.

She swam, praying that the sea itself was all that she had to contend with. Soon she wondered where they were swimming to, the Guide wasn't making for the ship, as she had expected him to. Instead, he seemed to be heading towards a scarlet light in the distance, that same hue as the one he had thrown before. It was far closer than the lighthouse, and as they closed in on the flame, Sid saw that it was hovering above a sandy atoll.

Exhilarated and with hope reignited, Sid pushed herself harder and went so far as to speed herself along quicker with a swift series of Wind Steps. She had nearly reached the end of her Air Mana, but she found the sacrifice worth it. Especially as she felt something slimy brush her leg. Nearly screaming, she swam forward with all she had, thudding into the soft, silty shore, then staggering onto the sand and away from whatever followed.

When she reached a patch of thin grass, she collapsed. For a whole three minutes, she lay there heaving in enormous breaths, and trying not to spill the contents of her stomach. She was bone weary, but she was alive.

As she recovered the storm weakened with suspicious speed. The thunder rolled dully while the rain lightened to a drizzle.

She heard someone speaking and she turned her head and levelled her bleary eyes on Jerral. He was pacing and cursing.

"What?" She asked stupidly.

"I said you're a damn fool!" He said. "Why'd you go and start another fight?"

"They ambushed me!" Sid protested in a croak. "Used the damn servant to distract you."

The guide scowled and fiddled with the collar of his yellow coat.

"That's neither here nor there," he said.

Sid sat up and spat.

"Stop that," Jerral said. "It's disgusting."

She ignored him and began looking around. "Where's the Lord?"

"What, you want to finish him off?" The man scoffed.

"Yeah," Sid admitted easily.

The Guide's eyebrows rose at her statement.

"He and his friend hatched a scheme to kill me. Almost succeeded. I won't let that rest," Sid growled.

"Absolutely not! Do you know how much that will cost me? I'll be put on probation for a month," Jerral said. "A year and a day, if they decide it was proper negligence. I hate living in the Spire outposts and manning the stalls."

"I don't care," Sid said, staggering to her feet. She saw where the Lord lay; he was unconscious and easy pickings. She wobbled towards him on legs that felt as solid as a jellyfish's spine.

The Guide blocked her path.

"Move," she ordered.

Jerral rolled his eyes, strode right up to her and pushed her lightly on the chest. She fell right on her backside.

"Idiot, you can barely stand," he chided.

Sid spat again, and he turned away, looking at the lighthouse over the sea.

"At least the storm follows the ship, which will make getting to the Stairway easier," he said, speaking mostly to himself.

"How will we get there? More swimming?" Sid asked.

"Unless you also happen to have a rowboat in your pocket, we'll just have to use mine," Jerral stated.

Sid stared around stupidly, worried that she'd missed something obvious.

The Guide caught her doing so and winked. He pulled a small boat the size of his palm from his belt bag.

"Are you joking?" She asked, then decided to stop talking. Her throat felt worse by the moment and her mouth tasted of blood.

"Not all all. It grows to a proper size when Activated. Unfortunately, it's a one-use magical object. Cost me about two hundred gold, and that's with the Guild's discount. But it's better that than a swim in stormy or dreary seas."

Sid could only nod, rubbing at her throbbing throat.

"Rest up, you'll be the one rowing," The Guide said. "Oh, and I expect you to apologise to the Lord, once he's awoken."

Sid scowled and nearly shouted a string of curses.

"Don't give me that look. You know the way the world works," the Guide said. "The nobles piss on us and we say: My, what warm rain. It's just how it is, a little power doesn't solve it."

Sid wanted to argue that a lot of power would, but it seemed trite, and she didn't want to strain her voice further.

Jerral sat and sighed. "Wish I'd gone the Expeditious Escape route right about now. I could have just popped out with the Lord. But no, I just had to go for the more 'balanced' Path."

Sid raised an eyebrow.

"Nevermind. I'm just talking to myself and it's a Guild secret."

"What about the others?" Sid signed.

"Oh, they should be fine," he said. "As I told you, the ship is weirdwrought, which means it's magic and has some odd properties and doesn't necessarily adhere to proper logic. Like being able to be sailed by a small group. Normally, a ship of that size would need to be manned by at least twenty sailors. We managed it with far fewer."

"Is the wood valuable?"

"No, weirdwrought objects rely on the Spire's magic too heavily to work outside. It's worse than mundane materials, too, since it dissipates rapidly. Like Technique books."

Sid nodded her understanding.

The Guide took off his boots and shook out the sand that had been trapped within them, then he stood and walked around the tiny isle they were stranded upon. When he reached the centre, he noticed something odd and began stomping the ground.

"Wouldn't happen to have a shovel, would you?" The Guide called out.

Sid shook her head.

"Pity," he said, kneeling and beginning to dig with his hands.

After some minutes, he shouted again, "Come help!"

Sid did as she was bade, though not because he ordered her to; she was just interested in what he had found.

There, buried under only three feet of sand, was a chest. One with silver banding. She almost danced with joy.

She helped the Guide dig out the hole and lift the chest.

"Well, at least we have something to show for this... detour," Jerral mused. "What do you say we open it while the Lord sleeps? We'll split it down the middle, it can be our secret."

It was a surprisingly generous offer, one that made her suspicious, but she could hardly turn it down.

"The only choice is whether to open it here or at the precipice," he continued.

"What is the difference?" She signed.

"Hmm? Oh, chests tend to give you what it thinks you may need at the time. Though not always, you can't make precise predictions about such things without a polished Treasure Sense. Which I lack, due to bad fortune, I suspect."

The Lord groaned, and both Sid and Jerral eyed him with wary disdain.

"He'll be up soon, best make a decision quick."

Sid nodded, signed an agreement and they opened the chest together.

Light spilled out, and they split the items without much bickering or bargaining. They hadn't long to inspect and identify the objects, and the Guide was loath to use his Know-notes. The Guild had an Appraiser; it would be cheaper and more thorough to take his half of the Treasures to her, or so he said.

Sid found herself liking the Guide more when he wasn't beholden to the nobles; he was actually quite genial and pragmatic. Both traits Sid could appreciate. Even if he had left her to drown.

Sid stuffed the small collection of Treasures, potions and baubles under her shirt and armour, or in her pockets if they fit.

Then, finally, just as the chest faded away from sight, the Lord woke and with slurring speech he spoke. "What's going on?"

---

Sid rowed the boat over rough water. The nobleman and the Guide lazed as she did all the work. Lord Ballast glowered, glared and grumbled, but the Guide ignored him. Sid just stared back, bloody murder in her eyes. If there were a way to get rid of the nobleman, she would have taken it in a second.

Still, Jerral had said to get along for now and take it up with the law later. They all knew who the law favoured, but Sid hoped to flee into the gutters and have the Nightshark deal with this minor Lord.

They slowly approached the lighthouse and a long grey shore, upon which was the wreck of their ship.

Sid prayed to Hargott that in their panic to get to the stairway, the team hadn't stolen her pack, quiver and bow from where they were stashed below her hammock. She didn't think it likely that her things remained, as she would have looted every inch of the ship herself before leaving.

Closer and closer. The waves weren't gentle, but the storm had broken some time ago, probably when the ship had.

A shudder ran down the wood of the rowboat and something thumped the bottom. A shadow of slimy, orange flesh slid under them. Startled, the Lord gripped the boat's edge and drew his sword. Similarly, the Guide hefted a walking stick. Sid had no such weapons, so she continued to row. While she did, she considered her Essence of Air and waited for an opportunity.

"It's that bloody beast you riled up earlier!" Lord Ballast quaked.

"Unlikely," the Guide said. "There's plenty of fish in the sea, you know."

The nobleman didn't listen. "This is all your fault! Everything is your fault!"

A thick rubbery tentacle reached out from the depths, and was fended off by a slash. The foul limb retreated, and for a minute they went undisturbed.

"Is it gone?" The Lord asked.

"No."

The half-blinded squid surfaced, and it whipped and grasped with its tentacles. The Guide had little in the way of offensive Powers himself, but he threw a glowing glass bead at the beast's long body. The bead flashed when it broke. A crack rang through the air. Smoke and steam rose from where it struck the slimy hide, and the beast writhed and flailed, nearly capsizing the boat.

Another glowing bead and another flash and crack. Sid acted this time, again infusing her throat and lungs with her Air Mana. Instead of trying to make her word carry far, she attempted to shape the wind so the Guide wouldn't hear her. A risk, but one she had to take. She used her ring, draining it completely.

"Fall."

Lord Ballast fell, right into the tide of writhing tentacles. Then he was pulled under. He barely had time to scream, but he did anyway. Soon, only bubbles were left, that and blood, both human and beast. The Guide looked on grimly, then turned a suspicious stare on Sid.

She smiled sweetly, or a sweetly as she knew how.

It didn't convince him, but he made no comment. He sat heavily and motioned for her to continue rowing. She did.

He sighed and shook his head wearily. "At least him dying foolishly to a beast won't have me on probation too long. Still, what a mess. Let's hope we make it to the shore before the Spite sets in."

Sid nodded.

---

They made it to the shore and then to the shipwreck without any trouble. It seemed that even with the Spite this floor had nothing left to throw at them. Or rather nothing left nearby.

Sid had to crawl through rickety, broken wood to find her way to where she had left her things, but find them she did. She thanked all the Gods as she pulled free her traveller's pack, her quiver and her bow. Her shortsword was nowhere to be found and her boots had been swept away, but she didn't care much about that.

All the important things were safe.

She left the creaking wreck behind and followed the Guide, who had also recovered his own equipment. Together, they made their way to the tall, shining lighthouse and the stairs up. It wasn't far, and soon they were climbing to the tenth and last Well Room.

When Sid reached the Precipice she looked about in wonder. All around, there was a view of Rain City, like the walls were made of glass. It was a humbling sight, one that reminded her just how small she was. She could only just make out her territory, that small section of the drowned district that made up the Refuge.

It wasn't on fire, which was a relief.

The Well was a large fountain, within which was a statue of a tall merfolk man, with a staff and crown, and clad in fine robes.

Apart from that, the room was empty.

The team had succeeded in their Climb and left without waiting longer than a couple of hours. Sid had expected that from the nobles, but had thought that maybe one of the commoners had stayed, if only just to see if anyone else returned safely.

Jerral looked around and sighed. He turned to Sid and said, "This is where I leave you. I can't say it was a pleasure to guide you, but I can say I wish you the best. And a piece of advice: when the Guard come for you, stick to the truth of what you saw. Don't state outright falsehoods, if you do that will activate any Lie Sense."

Sid nodded, but wondered what she'd done to receive such an amiable goodbye.

He answered her thoughts only a second later. "When you saw an injustice, you fought it. It's... admirable. The world can always use more of your kind. The stubborn and the righteous. Much more. Though I hope it doesn't lead you down too bloody a path. It would be a sad road for a woman of your potential."

Jerral gave her a gentle smile, scooped water from the Well and drank.

After a dull glow, a chest banded with steel appeared in his arms and he packed it away. With that, he waved one hand and walked down the stairs at the opposite end of the room, leaving her alone.

Sid slumped, sat and wept for a while as the weeks' events washed over her.

Eventually, she pushed down her emotions and stopped her crying. They were no good for anyone, and tears only helped you drown.

She made her way to the Well and drank a mouthful of the roaring Power. It blew in and around her chest in wonderful spirals. She dropped into her Sanctum as the magic restored her. She had the choice of her last Trait and an Evolution for her Path ability, Conjure Arrow. There were also the Awards, but she didn't know what they would be until she chose her other Powers.

Although it was probably best that she rest at the Precipice for a time, so she could make her choices with a clearer head and more consideration, Sid couldn't let herself do so.

The Refuge needed her. At best, it was still under siege, and at worst, Fritz had abandoned them so he could continue to gather his own strength and enjoy his own wealth. She wouldn't blame him if he did. It was the way of things.

Even now, after all they'd been through together, done together, she believed, deep down, that she'd be betrayed. That he couldn't possibly keep to his word or to the heroic image he painted. No, it was just a matter of time before he showed his true colours and she'd be alone again. That's how it was. How she was fated to be.

Sid sniffled. The great winds of her Sanctum blew bleakly, cold and callous. Like she should be.

She scanned her offerings and made her choices. She wasn't truly satisfied with any save her Trait: Rising Tempest. Sid felt it suited her at this moment, and would for years to come. She selected the Ability to be stored in the Golden Seed, one she had regretted not being able to take earlier, Sure Hands.

Her Awards came in, one by one, but she barely paid attention, they were all worse for her than her current ones. Her golden Climb Chest dropped into her lap and she was blown back into the waking world. She packed away the chest, hiding its gleaming bands. She stood, most of the aches were gone, her fatigue had been remedied and any minor injury she had taken had been healed. Such was the power of the Well.

Sid stretched, twisting this way and that before donning her cloak, then picking up her pack, her bow and her quiver.

She made her way to the stairs, preparing her mind and heart for what horrors she would see down in the drowned district. Yet still, somewhere even deeper than her fear, there was a hope. A hope that there was a home still there.

"To the Refuge."

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