The sea-witch was gone.<br/><br/>Her little cabin was empty of all her belongings - not that she’d had many - and even the smell of the strange incenses she’d burned just wasn’t there.<br/><br/>The two men stood in silence. Each looked around the room with a very different expression.<br/><br/>“What do you make of it, Mr. Carraway?” The grizzled, older man spoke first. He held himself high, though his knitted brow betrayed his growing alarm. He rummaged through a pocket in his long black coat and eventually brought out an equally black pipe, which he lit on a candle.<br/><br/>“What is there to make of it?” replied the younger, darker man. His hands remained firmly in the pockets of his loose-fitting grey trousers. “I’m not a gods-fearing man, Captain, but a ship without her witch…”<br/><br/>“...ought to be fine,” finished the captain. “Though I admit, I’ve never had a witch disappear on me mid-voyage. This is a first.” He let out a thick ring of smoke. “You say Mr. Elridge saw her yesterday?”<br/><br/>“Aye. Was his turn to bring her meal. Says she seemed normal as can be - for a sea-witch, at any rate. And when I came to see her today…” he brought his hands together loudly. “Poof.”<br/><br/>“Mr. Carraway…” the captain drew a long puff from his pipe. “Do you any reason to suspect her departure… wasn’t of her own accord?”<br/><br/>Daniel Carraway clicked his tongue. “That a question or an accusation?”<br/><br/>The captain gave him a sidelong glance. “Yes.”<br/><br/>Daniel threw up his arms in mock surrender. “Don’t know of anyone who’d want her off the ship, specifically. Prefer good fortune on voyages, myself. Not much good to cross a sea-witch if you don’t care for curses. I don’t.” He stroked his beard. “Same time, don’t think she wanted off the ship, either. We’re a week away from Auravel; even for a mage, that’s a rutting long trip.”<br/><br/>“That’s what I thought too, Mr. Carraway. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you responsible. But I don’t like it in the least. Sea-witches may be a superstitious tradition, but with ours is missing, I’m uneasy.”<br/><br/>“Could ask the priest if he knows anything about witching wards, though he seems the type to explain away misfortune as ‘meant to be.’” Seeing the captain’s expression, he shrugged. “Maybe not, then. Could be those two godstouched in the brig know a thing or two about staying on the gods’ good side. Could ask them.”<br/><br/>“One of them looks wholly the part of a demon. I can’t believe the gods looked kindly on them.” The captain shook his head.<br/><br/>“For the best. Can’t imagine that conversation going well. ‘Don’t suppose either of you knows anything about sea-witchcraft? Still going to have to hand you over to the Watch when we arrive in Cane’s Anchor, but we’d<i>really</i>appreciate your help until then...’” He grinned. “Guess we really are without a witch, then.”<br/><br/>There came a sudden, insistent knock on the cabin door. A young sailor entered and saluted the two officers. “There a dense patch of fog ahead of us, sir. No way around it. We’ll be in deep within a few minutes.”<br/><br/>Captain Ingram took his pipe out of his mouth and frowned. “Fog this far out? That’s… rare.”<br/><br/>“Better have most hands on deck, then,” Daniel said. “Just in case.”<br/><br/>“Just in case,” Ingram agreed.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>The masked man’s lute flowed softly through the lounge, as it had for hours. The bard seemed tireless, but that was probably why he’d gotten the job in the first place. His music had a peaceful, if eerie tone to it - whether the music was actually good or whether Anaise was just bored out of her mind, she wasn’t sure. Gwen seemed to like it, at least, and that was good enough for her.<br/><br/>They’d been almost a week at sea already, and it was starting to wear on her. Neither she nor Gwen had ever been on a ship before, and certainly not for this long.<i>Lucky it was this one.</i>The<i>Queen of Mythril</i>was half passenger, half cargo ship, and almost as luxurious as its mythril-plated hull. Entertainment, individual passenger cabins, good food… she got the impression these were rare enough. They were lucky, then.<br/><br/>Anaise started when Gwen tapped her shoulder and gestured to the porthole behind her. The girl’s hazel eyes were even bigger than usual. Anaise smiled, glancing over her shoulder. “It’s just fog.” Oddly, Gwen didn’t seem satisfied by that. She was usually so blissfully unconcerned about everything. Anaise turned around completely in her chair and looked -<i>really</i>looked - out the window.<br/><br/>It was just fog, wasn’t it?<br/><br/>But the longer she looked, the more it looked like shadowy figures were moving about just behind the veil of fog. But that was impossible. They were in the middle of the ocean, and several decks up. But… it was there. And as she looked, she could just imagine a dark face coming up from beneath the window and staring in at her with empty, lifeless eyes.<br/><br/>She hastily drew the curtains over the small porthole and smiled shakily back at Gwen. “It’s late. The last light’s just... playing tricks on us.” She took a deep breath and brushed back her hair. The lute was still playing the same song, but it seemed more creepy than soothing now, even though she knew it hadn’t really changed at all.<br/><br/>Gwen shook her head and tugged on Anaise’s sleeve. “I know,” Anaise said. “Can’t really go to bed right after something like that. We can play a few rounds of Maker’s Dice, then? And maybe they’ll have seconds of that syrup cake if I ask<i>really</i>nicely.” Her smile was a bit more reassuring this time, though she was trying hard not to think about what might could be lurking in the fog.<br/><br/>Gwen nodded, smiling back. That made her feel a bit better, at least.<br/><br/>“Be right back, then. Tea and dice and syrup cake, coming right up.” She smoothed out the front of her tunic, teal eyes sweeping the lounge. She still didn’t entirely have her sea legs, but the ship wasn’t doing much swaying either, which helped.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, there was more than one porthole in the lounge.<i>I don’t envy the people on deck right now in that fog.</i>Good thing her and Gwen’s imaginations weren’t contagious. Because they were definitely imagining things. Maybe if the bard stopped playing for just a second… but then again, maybe the silence would be worse.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>