The silence of the open ocean was the loudest thing Aarav had ever heard. For weeks, his life had been filled with the screech of metal, the roar of magic, and the screams of the dying. Now, there was only the rhythmic slap-slap of water against the hull and the creaking of the ship's timbers.
Night had fallen. The stars above were unfamiliar constellations, bright and untainted by smog or shadow.
On the deck, Mara sat with her back against the mast, a bottle of rum in her good hand. She took a long swig and hissed as the alcohol burned her throat.
"We look like a shipwreck that forgot to sink," she muttered, looking at Kael.
The swordsman was lying on a pile of blankets nearby, his broken leg elevated on a crate. Liora had done what she could to knit the bone with her remaining energy, but he would need weeks of rest.
"Pain is a reminder," Kael said, staring up at the stars. "It reminds us that we are still flesh, not stone."
"You're too philosophical for a man who can't walk to the bathroom," Mara quipped, tossing him the bottle.
Kael caught it. A faint smile touched his lips. "And you are too drunk for a captain."
"I earned it," Mara said, closing her eyes. "We all did."
Below deck, in the captain's quarters—which Mara had graciously ceded to Aarav and Liora for the night—the air was heavy with steam and the scent of lavender oil.
A large wooden tub had been filled with hot water heated by the ship's boiler. Aarav sat in it, the water turning slightly grey as it washed away the dust of Antima.
The door clicked shut. Liora stood there. She had shed her tattered silver robe. She wore nothing but the moonlight filtering through the porthole. Her body was a map of their journey—bruises on her arms, a scrape on her thigh, the faint lines of exhaustion on her face. But to Aarav, she was the most breathtaking sight in the universe.
She walked over to the tub and stepped in, straddling his lap, the water rising to cover them.
"You're staring," she whispered, her hands resting on his shoulders.
"I'm memorizing," Aarav replied, his voice husky. He ran his soapy hands down her back, over the curve of her spine. "I was afraid... back in the cavern. I thought I'd never see this again."
Liora leaned her forehead against his. "We're past the fear now, Aarav. Now comes the hard part."
"The hard part?"
"Living," she said softly. "Surviving is instinct. Living... living takes work."
Aarav kissed her neck, right below the ear, eliciting a soft moan from her. "Then let's start working."
He kissed her deeply, tasting the lingering sweetness of the wine they had shared earlier. The bathwater sloshed as she adjusted her position, pressing herself harder against him. The buoyancy of the water made her light, but the weight of her desire was heavy, grounding him.
Liora pulled back, her eyes dark and focused. She reached for a sponge and began to wash his chest. She scrubbed gently over the fading white scar on his palm—the ghost of the Blade Sigil.
"Do you miss it?" she asked quietly. "The power?"
Aarav covered her hand with his. "No. It was borrowed. This..." he moved her hand to his beating heart. "...this is mine. And yours."
Liora dropped the sponge. She didn't want to wash him anymore. She wanted to feel him.
She rose slightly, positioning herself, and then slowly sank down onto him. The water created a slick, warm friction that made every movement intense. Aarav groaned, his head falling back against the rim of the tub as she sheathed him completely.
"Liora..."
"Shh," she commanded softly, setting a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm. She moved up and down, her eyes locked on his.
It was different from the frantic, desperate encounters in the forest or the storm. This was slow. Deliberate. It was an act of worship. Every touch was a reassurance that they were whole.
Aarav's hands gripped her hips, guiding her, his thumbs digging into her soft flesh. The sensation of her wet skin sliding against his, the heat of the water, the rocking of the ship—it was overwhelming sensory overload.
"I love you," the words slipped out of Aarav's mouth, unbidden, natural.
Liora froze for a second, her breath catching. Tears welled in her eyes. "Say it again."
"I love you," Aarav said, reaching up to cup her face. "I love you, Liora."
She let out a sob that turned into a cry of pleasure as she began to move faster, harder. "I love you too... gods, Aarav..."
The water splashed violently over the rim of the tub. The room filled with the sounds of their wet skin slapping together, their gasps, their names being whispered like prayers.
Aarav sat up, wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her flush against him. He drove into her, matching her intensity. They were fusing together, body and soul, washing away the trauma of the war with the purity of their connection.
When the release came, it was blinding. Liora shuddered in his arms, her nails raking down his back, crying out his name into the damp air. Aarav followed her seconds later, emptying himself into her, his body trembling with the force of it.
They stayed like that for a long time, the water cooling around them, hearts beating in sync.
Eventually, they dried off and moved to the bed. The sheets were rough, the mattress thin, but it felt like a cloud.
Liora curled up against Aarav's chest, her leg thrown over his. Aarav traced patterns on her arm with his fingertips.
"What you said earlier," Aarav whispered into the darkness. "About building a house."
"Mmm?" Liora murmured, half-asleep.
"I meant it," Aarav said. "We're not just sailing 'anywhere'. We need a home."
Liora opened one eye. "Do you have a place in mind?"
Aarav thought about the map he had seen in the Warden's Vault—the layout of the world before the corruption.
"There's an archipelago," Aarav said softly. "Far to the east. beyond the trade routes. The 'Isles of Mist'. It's supposed to be uninhabited, wild. Safe."
Liora smiled against his skin. "Isles of Mist. Sounds mysterious."
"It sounds like a blank canvas," Aarav corrected. "A place where no one knows the name 'Tideborne'. Where we can just be Aarav and Liora."
"And Mara and Kael?" Liora asked.
"They're family," Aarav said. "Whether they admit it or not. We're a pack now."
Liora kissed his chest. "Then take us there, Captain."
She fell asleep within minutes, her breathing soft and steady.
Aarav lay awake for a while longer, listening to the ocean. The nightmares of Elara and the Spire tried to creep into his mind, but the warmth of Liora's body chased them away.
He looked at his hand in the moonlight. The scar was faint, but it was there. He wasn't the powerful Breaker anymore. He was just a man.
And for the first time in his life, that was enough.
He closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep, the first true rest he had had since falling into the pond.