Salt spray soaked their faces as Vale conjured swift ocean swells to carry their sloop north from the shard columns and whatever sinister pursuit Lord Xanthos sent in wake of their trail. Eira ran her fingers over the crystal fragments stowed safely below deck, mind churning.
“The shards alone won’t reveal Silva’s location,” she said. “Their elements must somehow converge to show the path.”
Arlo nodded thoughtfully, waving his hand above a glowing red shard that grew hotter. “Like metals in an alloy, magic magnifies when combined.”
“We should journey to Pyra next,” suggested Vale from her wind-woven perch atop the mast. “Its fires will further empower any shards attuned to flame.”
Eira considered it studying the map’s shifting symbols. “First we sail for the Sky Falls - its waters grant clarity to all who meditate there. I must reflect on my vision’s meaning to understand how to proceed.”
The course decided, Eira leaned into the sea spray eager for revelation. She worried over the shadowed glimpse of herself and implications that the islands’ fate pivot upon her choices ahead. But the sound of wind whistling through mast and rigging lifted her up. Though Storms raged in their wake, she would stay this destined course.