Fisher stood atop the Cruciger's aftcastle, the sea's mist cool against his face. He'd delayed as long as possible before leaving port, hoping that his lunar companion would return, but it was not to be. Perhaps she'd exaggerated the bond between them. Perhaps she's seen him bed the dragon blooded, and was hurt. Perhaps she'd been caught by a wild hunt and killed. He didn't know, and the not knowing was the part that ate at him, stealing his sleep.<br/><br/>And yet, he wasn't some mere mortal, destined to mope around because his love had left him. There was work to be done, legends to be made, and he'd been chosen by the Unconquered Sun to do both, and while his companions might be a touch too amoral for his level of comfort, they were the companions he'd cast his lot with, and perhaps he could mitigate some of their more extreme impulses.<br/><br/>He watched his men clean and service the flame cannon, knowing that some of them probably wouldn't survive the coming battle. Such was their lot and he just hoped they found a bit of immortality in attaching themselves to his legend. Of course, there was a slim chance he could die in the coming battle. That would just be embarrassing, but the world had a knack for humbling the proud even as it loved it's heroes. Was hubris his sin, or was it something else altogether? All he knew is the ocean gave a man plenty of time to think, and right now his thoughts were unsettled and unfocused. He'd need to calm and focus himself before battle, if he could.