Dusk felt his face turn red as Mirrah spoke and was immediately grateful that the girl's face was turned away. Owe him her life? Well, he did rescue her from drowning in the ocean. Truthfully, he had gotten to the point of wishing he had let her drown. At the very least, he could've still been with his crew, wouldn't be tortured by thoughts of what might've happened to them. He turned his face away, almost afraid that she might read straight past his mask and pick up those thoughts on his mind. Still, the moment proved so awkward to Dusk that he couldn't help but divert the topic.

"Y-Yeah? Well, don't think that I'm lettin' you off so easily."

Mirrah lifted her head, looking up at him with a cautious look. "What?"

Dusk looked at Mirrah from the corner of his eye, keeping his face turned away in case there was still a hint of red in his cheeks. "'Don't think that a lil' apology's gonna get rid of me's what I'm sayin'."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look here." Dusk put his hands on his knees, looking down on the girl. "The Cap'n gave me orders to not let you outta my sight. So I ain't planning on lettin' you go off by yourself just yet."

Mirrah's face was gradually turning just as red as Dusk's was, except for far different reasons. She pushed herself up off the ground, her hands balled into fists. "What the hell for?! I'm not Victoria! For Gaea's sake!"

"Don't matter who you are. For all I know, you might still be lyin' to me." To tell the truth, Dusk had no idea what he was supposed to do from now. He had figured that he at least get the girl, Victoria or not, to Gunner's Point like Gerald had planned. He pushed off of the bed, walking past her. "First we gotta figure out where the rendezvous point is, and I'm gonna get you there."

"No! We aren't going anywhere! What... What makes you think that even if I were her, I'd just sit here and let you take me anywhere you want?!" Mirrah slapped her chest, waving her hand at the boy laid out on the table, already stirring from all the commotion. "I've already got a charge to deal with! I gotta be where he's gotta be!"

Dusk was already out the door. "Then ya better figure out somethin'."

~~~~~~~~~~

Wilhelm was having one of those queer dreams again. Well, given that all dreams were queer to begin with, but this particular dream was especially strange. In most cases, one would dream of things that one had experienced, and the strange quality that dreams were known for was simply the conglomeration of the known, presented in an unusual fashion. But what Wilhelm was seeing in his mind's eye was beyond his knowledge, and very strange. He was a disembodied conscious, drifting apart from the entire scene, and observing something high in the night sky. It was like the stars in the sky were moving, glowing a brilliant, soft green like fireflies, and flowing together to meld into a river. It was like the Orion's Belt, only flowing and organic. It's shape shifted and flowed, surging much like a stream, and possessed so much energy.

He couldn't see any of them, but he sensed figures were nearby, their bodies covered in so much shade that there were no discernible features. But the horns extending from their heads were unmistakable. They were of all shapes, all sizes. They seemed to behold the river above his head as well, worshiped it like a god. There was two other figures as well. A man and a woman. Both looked human and yet horns extended from their heads. They too were gazing up at the sky, but with feelings that were far darker than the ones of inspiration and awe from the unseen horned figures around him. He couldn't make out defining features, but recognized the horns on the woman's head, black and curled, like young ram's horns.

Then suddenly, the man and woman changed. A boy and a girl. At first, it was like the two had become younger, except Wilhelm had the inexplicable feeling that they weren't the same people. Replacing the woman was the young boy, yet the horns retained their place. Replacing the man, a young girl. A human girl. She did not look at the stream like the boy did, did not have horns on her head. Her hand was curled around the boy's, like an older sister would to a younger sibling.

But that was it. He could almost feel that the glowing river above his head was beginning to shift, that something incredible was about to happen, but it began to fade faster than he could perceive it. The gentle silence and the pulse of energy disappeared, replaced by shouts. Angry shouts. And if he wasn't mistaken, they were all in Mirrah's voice.

"I've already got it figured out! I'm not going anywhere! Did you hear me?!"

Thundering footsteps, a door slamming, and the shouting returned, muffled through walls of wood and stone. Wilhelm let out a groan, one of pure irritation. He pushed himself up off the table, feeling the blood return to his arms with an uncomfortable tingle. He began to rub his hands together, staring rather irritably at the objects laying before him. His magnifying lens contraption, vials and vials of solutions and chemicals, blades, small dishes filled with grindings, and the Watcher Horns sitting before him on their white cloth. Beside all these things was a candle burned down to the bronze dish it sat in and of his notebooks, scribbles and drawings filling the pages with it's pen still sitting on its pages. His eyes fell on the last thing written on the page, sloppy with exhaustion and exasperation: Nothing, Nothing, Nothing. He only felt all the frustration that he had forgotten by sleep return full force and let out another groan, putting his face in his hands.

How many hours had he spent last night conducting test after test on the horns? Trying to figure out something, trying to get some sort of reaction. The most he could conclude was that the horns was most certainly not from some sort of animal. There didn't seem to be any sort of marrow inside, and they didn't have any traces of the minerals all bones were known to have. Which answered his most important question of whether they were Watcher Horns or not with a shaky "I guess?" They weren't normal horns, or bones for that matter. He must've poured all the chemicals he had on the horns, even some of his rare powders, like pixie dust or mermaid tears. But the horns did not react. They didn't even burn. But really, without more information on the Watchers, he couldn't draw any more conclusions.

By the time he gave up on the horns for the night, the night had already passed. Dawn peaked on the horizon and Wilhelm gave in reluctantly to his fatigue. And then, of course, he woke up to shouting and screaming. And judging from the slant of the morning light streaming into his room, somewhere between nine and ten o'clock. His body shouted for more sleep, his mind shouted for more tests, but really, in the end, the gentle rumble of his stomach won out. Not to mention he felt disgusting.

The shouting escalated, this time, the male voice whom Wilhelm guessed was Dusk's voice, joining in. Wilhelm let out another sigh, pushing himself off of the desk and massaging his sore shoulders. He shrugged off his coat, despite the brisk morning air, more annoyed by the smell of chemicals that had been seeped into the fabric from last night alone. He swept the horns off the desk, sifting them into his pocket before trudging his way out of the room.

The door of the cottage had been flung open, letting some of the morning light into the living room. The darkness in the room wasn't as thick as it was last night, nor quite as unusually dark. He could even see into the corners of bookshelves and drawers, much like normal shadows. Phsara's bedroom, however, remained behind a solid wall of darkness. Wilhelm only guessed that the Phsara had sent away most of her servants, probably to keep them protected from the light. The shouting outside had died down a little bit.

Wilhelm stalked to the door way hands in his pocket, his mind still in a fog of annoyance of weariness. Mirrah and Dusk were standing in the little clearing in front of the cottage, Phsara seated on a wooden bench just outside her fenced garden, dressed in a simple dark-mottled robe with the sleeves tied back and her hair pulled up in a bun. She was watching the two with a frown on her face.

Mirrah immediately looked in Wilhelm's direction the second he stepped into the open air. "Wilhelm! Tell this jerk that I work for you! Tell him so he gets off my friggin' back!"

Wilhelm rubbed his face, attempting to massage the fatigue out of him. "This is what you were shouting for nine in the morning?"

Dusk crossed his arms, glancing over at Wilhelm. "Where do you plan on goin' after this?"

"I'm going where Wilhelm's going, which is NOT where you're going!"

"Where can I go to wash my face?" Wilhelm said, attempting to suppress the urge to yell himself. He just wanted to go some place quiet at this point.

Phsara looked at him, her voice pleasantly calm and courteous. "There is a stream behind my cottage. You may go wash up there."

"Goody."

"Hey, do we get breakfast or do we gotta go find somethin' ourselves?"

"I should hope you are well enough to leave today if you are well enough to shout so early."

"Don't ignore me, pirate! Wilhelm, tell him that I gotta stick with you since I'm your bodyguard!"

There were so many rebukes that swirled in Wilhelm's mind, so many angry shouts that he wanted to give to them, but the only thing that managed to come out of Wilhelm's mouth was shout of frustration. He trudged around the cottage, not even throwing a second look in Mirrah's direction.

"...What the hell's wrong with him?"