Hanabaptiste felt like she was trapped in a strange time curse- the walk to the ship, her and Uban humming and singing in harmony seemed to last an eternity. The sand crunching beneath their feet providing tempo, the hiss of the waves working itself into the music. Hana had listened to Uban sing and play the lute plenty of times since joining the [i]Borealis[/i], but it would have been a tad too familiar of her to join and sing with him. Neither of them were married, and while she liked the man, she didn't think of him as a brother. But she'd needed to calm Rio down, and in her panic driven rationality, she'd asked for Uban's help. And now they were singing together. It was strange, everything seemed to be disconnected from one another, the hot sun on her scalp, the light breeze that pushed Rio's hair into her eyes. They were happening to different people, who all shared the same body. And so she thought deeply- or what passed for deeply in this state- about the implications of her singing with an unmarried yokel turned pirate. She also was absorbed in trying to remember which note came next, unable to contemplate anything else. Another, distant thought idly played with the thought of her leaving the pirates and making the most of it on this island. She dismissed this, it wasn't an option. She didn't have an answer she could put into words for why she had to stay with the [i]Borealis[/i], but it was compelling and the idea of staying on shore didn't carry much weight. She still walked, still sang. The world was walking and singing and holding a motionless boy who was growing heavier and heavier in her arms. He had gotten so heavy she didn't know if she could put him down. So she didn't. She walked and sang. All of a sudden she was below decks, setting Rio down on her bed in her chambers. She couldn't say when she had arrived in her room, or just how she got there. The change had been so abrupt compared to the lifetime on the beach that she hadn't realized she could stop. She stood over the boy and hummed. What was she here for? Oh, right. Reading books to Rio. Breathing in, Hana shook her head like she had just woken up. The curse had ended. But she still had a job to do. "Okay, if you'd like I'll read you the [i]Midengarium.[/i] It's the old story I had told you about. In Elbar you'd be considered a little young to read the full text.. But, things will be fine. Okay. Um. I'll just." Hana lurched to the small shelf built into the wall that served as her bookcase. Scanning the titles dumbly, it took her three times to read through every title before realizing the book was right in front of her. Taking it, Hana went back and sat on the chest at the foot of her bed. "Well, uh. Okay. There's an introduction, but it's really just about how the translator ignored the preexisting notions for how Aa script related to Old Tilnish and could actually be seen in the modern day by high country shepherds carving prayers into their walking sticks. Um. That's important to know, but ummm. Let's just start on chapter one. Hana carefully turned the pages, coughed. "Okay." "When Bilen, son of Bifor, declared to the village that his ten by tenth birthday would be celebrated with great celebrations, there was much excitement and speculation to what would occur. Bithdo, nephew of Bilen, went to his uncle...." Hana read the old story. The words didn't stick in her mind, and on occasion she stumbled over her words, but it was fine. She continued to read, letting her lips go numb and her throat scratchy. It was a good story, and she wondered if Rio understood what she was saying. Even if he didn't, she hoped the act of being read to would soothe him and still his heart. ---- By the time Berlin gravely put his hand on the ugly village leaders shoulder, Wheel had already pulled out his baccy pouch and was rolling himself a cigarette. He smiled at the foresight he'd had to buy a package of [i]matches[/i] when he had been in port. They were interesting little things, bits of wood that had been enchanted so all one had to do to make them flare up was scratch them. He wasn't sure how they worked, but he liked them. Lighting the match, he held the flame to his cigarette, making sure it lit before tossing the match on the ground. They probably could have been made to last more than once, but merchants were bastards. He watched as Berlin gave away enough gold to buy all the girls in a cathouse for a week. To some fucking idiot who couldn't stop a single galley of Barizians. They were obviously going to get rolled again, and he figured that money wouldn't stay in the fishermen's hands for long. Not his problem, of course. "Wheel. Back to the ship." He fell in line next to the captain, a spear ready to be launched. There was no blood to be spilt here today. The curse began to scream, howling and biting Wheel's veins and guts, angry and hungry. He sucked on the cigarette and tried to ignore the need as they walked through the ruined town. That money Berlin gave them would help, but this town wasn't coming back to how it was before for a long time. And even when the houses were rebuilt and the population returned, he doubted they would plant as many flowers as they had before. He was saddened that the thought of it didn't sadden him. He needed to draw blood. "Any plans on finding these slavers?" He asked, as they reached the beach.