The area where the stars aligned with the map that Nana drew wasn’t any different from the rest of their journey, water and only water occupied the end of their sight. They’d beelined for this area, but beyond this, they were clueless. Nyte’s database marked five major islands and multiple isles in the region that Stefan circled on the map, accounting for the margin of error in his calculation. And since they had no information to point them in the right direction, they could only divide the region into grids with the major islands as their central nodes and start searching one by one—once they cleared a couple of search areas, Stefan could narrow the scope.

  Luckily, Kidd broke through before coming here and was now a Step-1 Nightwalker, rivaling Ewan. Thus, the two maintained a fixed radius from the Stormfalcon and covered one neighboring grid each, sending updates back to Stefan frequently for him to adjust the search area.

  The first two grids took them a week to cover, and they came out empty handed, albeit with sparked hostility from the natives. Ewan encountered the humanoid-reptilians on the major island of his search area—Sisadger, a thorny tailed humanoid Staron covered in sea-green scales with extraordinary physical strength and vitality.

  When he landed on their beach unannounced, they branded him as their enemy and came at him with their makeshift weapons. Even the common language between them—Kaaleria—couldn’t contain their anger. Because he backed off without showing aggression though, and with some words of amity sprinkled on top, the conflict didn’t escalate to Step-1, and they only yelled and screamed and hurled their weapons at him in vain as he flew around for the last confirmation before leaving.

  Kidd too encountered something similar and triggered the native living on the second major island—Seroyote, a winged-humanoid Staron with a small and declining population. Their shrinking numbers made them highly aware and sensitive about their territorial boundaries, and the species once hailed for their peaceful nature had now become feral for survival. And because of the lack of a language they shared, Kidd became the target of their surging aggression and flew for kilometers beyond the island before the Seroyotes chasing after him backed off.

  …

  Stormfalcon, top deck.

  “They’re all lunatics in this area,” Kidd said, panting with his hands on his knees as the Stormfalcon swayed with the waves, its anchors holding it in place.

  “That’s why I keep telling you to learn Kaaleria,” Ewan said.

  “They were like mad dogs, Boss, they won't care about the same language,” Kidd said, calming his breath and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

  “Say that when you learn it,” Ewan said, then turned to Stefan. “Stefan, two grids are done, did you adjust the range?”

  “Yeah, of the three left, she’s most likely in the southeast grid,” Stefan said from under Ewan’s protective shield, keeping away from the dangerous flares of the capricious sun.

  “I’ll start searching there then,” Ewan said, then turned to Kidd. “You wait for nightfall then take the northeast grid. Don’t land on the islands this time, just make a round at a peaceful distance. Nana should be on the beach, so you’ll be able to find her without landing.”

  “Got it, Boss,” Kidd said. “I’ll bring the Kaaleria dictionary with me too this time.”

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  “Just run away if they come at you, don’t blabber nonsense and make things worse. And lose them before coming back, don’t lead them to our ship,” Ewan said. “Lance, you’re good here?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lance said, donning his recently polished but dented chromed breastplate, and gripping his scythe and his shield.

  “Okay then, keep the channel open and communicate even the tiniest details,” Ewan said and hovered off towards the southeast grid, shooting off with the spell after a distance.

  ….

  Days and nights of sweeping through the isles finally led Ewan to the main island of the grid, Bexthon Haven. And his instincts tingled and sounded off an orange alert by the time the strip of the island cleared the horizon against the starry night. The dim circle of water around it lay dead and flat without a twitch of a wave, the scattered bits of light bent around the area and twisted the reality, and even the wind sank into the water when it approached this part of the ocean, the depth smothering the bubbles.

  An invisible barrier divided the normal from the abnormal. The waves outside crashed into the invisible wall with the wind egging them on, lost a chunk of their size to the abnormality, then backed off. And the water inside the circle darkened even more.

  But regardless of the strange phenomenon, Ewan only stared at the crude hut on the beach with his heart racing. The weirdness around the island warped its image by the time it reached him, but he still recognized it from her words. She created the walls with reinforced sand, a flapping bedsheet hung for the door, and the dead barks formed her roof—leaky, but at least it was a livable home. The campfire that she always kept alive was on it last flickers, and before the firewood died into embers, a familiar figured pushed aside the bedsheet flap, stepped out of the hut, and rekindled the blaze. The distorted image couldn’t give Ewan a confirmation, but he knew it was her. She’d thinned a lot, but it was her.

  “Come to me,” Ewan said on the remote-bracelet with trembling hands and an uncontrolled grin on his face. “I found her.”

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