Ron clung to the stern, face pale as paper. His throat burned like he had swallowed a pot of hellfire. The heat clawed down his chest and twisted through his stomach, a storm that flipped his insides again and again.
He coughed until his ribs ached. He retched until there was nothing left to give the sea. Only then did the fire ease, leaving him slumped against the rail and breathing like a fish dragged onto shore.
Nami pressed a cup into his hands.
He gulped without thinking and drained it in one go.
Her brow jumped. The navigator exploded.
"Do you think that is how people drink water? Why would you chug the entire cup in one breath?"
Ron tried to answer, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Even his eyes felt dizzy. He had not expected a single bottle to hit him like a cannon broadside. He was no lush in his previous life, but a few beers had never been a problem. Tonight, to unlock the Drunkard achievement, he had poured a whole bottle straight down his throat and nearly sent his soul sailing to the next world.
At least the chime had sounded. One hard earned point.
This point was bought with my life, he grumbled inwardly as the familiar light screen blinked before his eyes. He funneled the reward into Spirit. Cool clarity washed through his mind, loosening the last nails of the hangover. When he finally looked up, the sight in front of him knocked the breath right back out.
The girl's cheeks were touched by a peach pink glow. Maybe anger. Maybe that single rebellious sip she had insisted on taking during their toast. White blouse, sea breeze, fourteen years of spring light, a figure that hinted at the woman she would become. For a heartbeat she looked like trouble itself wearing a smile.
Ron opened his mouth to say something elegant and dashing. The world went black. He folded to the deck.
Nami stared at the fallen magician. At first she had pegged him as unreliable. Then he carved down Captain Klu with invisible blades and she admitted he had real strength. Now he had achieved a new level of foolishness. Partnering with this guy might be the smartest mistake she ever made, or the dumbest.
When Ron woke, the sun had climbed to its throne. Noon. Thanks to a soul stronger than most, there was no splitting headache, only the memory of shame.
He realized he had been moved under the small awning. Probably Nami's doing.
"Nami?" he called, pushing himself upright.
No answer. He stood quietly and stepped around the mast.
There she was, curled beneath the sail, arms wrapped around her knees, head tilted against the wood, a tiny crease between her brows as if some shadow had followed her even into dreams. Lashes fluttered like the wings of a resting butterfly. Even asleep she seemed ready to spring to her feet at the first whisper of danger.
She looked like a spirit fallen onto the deck. You would hesitate to touch such a thing.
Ron retreated on silent feet, found a blanket, and draped it gently over her shoulders. He settled a short distance away and simply watched the calm of her breathing.
It was not a waste of training time. Today he had a different goal. His system listed an achievement called Another Day as a Slacker, earned by doing no training at all for one full day. One point was one point. With how much his Spirit had risen, an entire day of practice might not even yield that much progress. He would let time do the lifting.
Besides, he had already slept half the clock. What was left could be spent in quiet company.
Other milestones ticked through his mind. Steady Progress at one hundred hours of practice was nearly in hand. The total point threshold for the next rune draw teased him. Perhaps the gate would open at ten total points. If so, he was close.
He remembered another hint during his first draw. The system had called Wind a basic rune. If Wind was basic, then Earth, Water, and Fire were also basic. If basic existed, then rare must exist too. He imagined space magic. A true magician should step where he pleased. He pictured ice, lightning, light, shadow. The thought alone made his fingers twitch with the urge to experiment right now.
No. Not today. He strangled the impulse and sighed.
Letting a diligent man act like a slacker for one whole day is a trial worthy of legends.
He turned his attention back to the navigator. Watching Nami sleep swept the restlessness away. His thoughts wandered, but stayed clean. In front of a girl who looked like a fairy from a tale, with skin like warm ivory and a delicate nose and brows that trembled once in a while, it was hard to think about anything wicked.
See, that proves I am not a fan of little girls, he told himself with a dry smile. Still, a gentleman paired with a younger lady, that old story can be strangely heartwarming. The killer is not cold at all when the killer is a mage.
Time passed like a soft tide. Nami's lashes flickered. Her eyes opened, clear and brown like polished chestnut. She blinked, sniffed as if testing the wind, and focused on the figure sitting nearby.
"I did not know when you fell asleep," Ron said in an easy voice that carried no hint of guilt. "So I let you rest. The heading should be fine. After I woke up the wind and current felt the same."
She glanced at the blanket, then at the sky, then unfolded a chart with practiced hands. The strange feeling of having been watched tugged at the edge of her thoughts, but the man's face showed nothing but calm.
"No problem," she said. "I know these currents. Unless the wind shifts too much we will stay true."
"Good." Ron nodded. "Food and water are barely enough if we make a round trip."
Nami gave him a crooked look. "Who said anything about turning back? The treasure site is near other islands. We will resupply there."
"Oh. I forgot about that." He rubbed the back of his head, sheepish.
She still felt that odd prickle, yet found no reason for it. She checked her clothes, her pockets, the set of the sail. Everything was in order. He did not look lecherous. Just a little awkward. She decided it was the sleep hangover talking.
The day rolled on, quiet and bright.
Ron kept his promise to laziness.
The sea breeze hummed.
The sail sang softly.
And the counter in his heart crept toward another chime.
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