Harlin squinted against the harsh sunlight, his weathered hand shading his eyes as he stared out at the horizon. The spyglass in his other hand was cold against his palm, an old relic from his Navy days that still worked better than any modern contraption he'd tried. What he saw didn't make sense.The waters stretching toward the Giant Highlands should have been clear today. Weather reports had promised calm seas and blue skies for at least the next three days. Perfect conditions for the kid's return journey.Instead, a wall of darkness loomed in the distance, churning clouds that didn't move like natural formations. Lightning flashed within them, but it was wrong somehow—too purple, too persistent, like veins pulsing through a massive, living thing."You worried about that kid too, huh?"Harlin lowered his spyglass and glanced over his shoulder. Willem stood a few feet away, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers. His eyes were bloodshot, his normally neat beard unkempt."Didn't take you for the drinking type, Willem," Harlin said, avoiding the question.Willem snorted and took another swig. "Didn't take myself for the 'deliver a bunch of academy brats to their deaths' type either, but here we are.""You took some kids to the Highlands?" Harlin's stomach clenched. "Same day I took the Ghost?""Ghost?" Willem frowned, then his eyes widened. "Wait, that championship kid? With the white streak? That's who you ferried over?""He dyed his hair," Harlin muttered. "But yeah."Willem dropped heavily onto a nearby crate, the wood creaking under his sudden weight. "Fuck me. If I'd known who those kids were...""What kids exactly?"Willem took another long pull from his bottle. "Bunch of students. Looking for their friend, they said. One of them was a Dimitry. Another was the daughter of the Tirajin ambassador. A Lightbringer too, I think." (...)