Uban gave another one of his half smiles, half winces and glanced between his mentor and the rising sea as if he wondered, [I]Do you not see this?[/I]. He let the question hang for a moment as his mind raced. This wasn't mermaids. So then...what could it be?  He was clearly nervous, but his curiosity was stronger and eventually he asked with a little nervous laughter, "So uh, Pieter...what did you just summon, exactly? Because uh...heh, That's not mermaids is it?" He leaned over the gunnel as much as it would allow without tipping the small boat and peered down into the sapphire depths.

--

"Oh, I see," Berlin said with a nod, his tone indicating that he guessed his vision was too good to be true and he was now coming back to reality. But it was still a reality that pleased him. Fire was the fear of every ship's captain, and Berlin in his youth once barely escaped a flaming ship with his life as it plunged into the deep. A lantern had been broken and the whaling ship's tarred timbers went up like a bobbing torch, and twenty souls went into the sea, with only half of them making it back out. 

"I think the sails," he said after a moment. "If I were to cripple a ship, I'd take her sails first, so we'll protect ours. And if you have anything left, is it possible to protect specifically the barrels of our powder hold?" And, thinking of his own experience with ship fires, he said, "The other day you were teaching Rheoaan to read, and you created a little light...if given the right materials and equipment, could you eventually make some deck lamps without flames? Is that possible? Forgive me," he laughed a bit, "I've never met a mage before, so I don't know what's possible." Berlin's eyes were kept on the knife fighting lesson now and not Hana; after Rohaan's quick shift into his favorite form (which was often an indication of heightened defense or offense on his part) his heart had skipped a beat in fear that the training had gone sour, but the boy quickly mastered himself and the skirmish stayed civil. Perhaps he hadn't been giving Rohaan that much credit for his control, but he couldn't totally forget his worry either.

--

Acceptable! Rohaan beamed with pride at that, his focused battle-rage dissolving just as soon as Wheel called a halt. His anger, after all, had not been true rage but the kind of intense zeal that comes with tackling a challenge. This was a game, and it was one he liked quite well. "Ta'neia, Estehan." ((Thank you, teacher)) Rohaan touched his fist to his forehead and it left a wet silvery blotch of blood from the tiny nick on his finger, which he then brought to his mouth and sucked. It was no deeper than any cut he ever got chopping food in the galley, but it stung a little. The lad trotted off to one of the rain barrels, picked up a tin mug that hung on a makeshift hook beside the barrel, and scooped up some cool water. 

Berlin looked down at him, noting the silver blood on his face. "How...how'd it go?"
Rohaan, midway through chugging water, merely gave an affirmative "mm" that resonated in the tin mug. 
"Yeah? Your face alright?"
Rohaan nodded and held up his nicked knuckle; it had stopped bleeding but it left a little line of dull silver tinged with red. "He owes me blood now!" He grinned wickedly. "I'll get him. I'm getting better Ca-mm." 
"If you manage to mark Wheel, I'll be truly impressed, Rheoaan. I wonder if I can. One of these days you'll have to show me just how good you're getting." 
Rohaan brightened at this; Berlin was quite good with a blade and he was eager to show off his new skills. But for now, he had more things to learn from Wheel, and he hung up the tin mug and bounded back to Wheel, his cobalt eyes fixed on the larger man. "What next?"