(Year 0)

The small boat jerks violently as waves bash its sturdy hull. The girl perched on the bow gives a catlike yowl as her bare feet slip from the rail, and she falls back to land on the deck, fluffy blonde hair covering her face. As the boat continues to sway, her claws slide neatly out of her toes to grip the soft wood, and she manages to stand, anchored in place, and brush her hair out of her eyes.

“Kessiel,” Doro huffs, “I've told you several times: no claws in the deck!” His voice is slightly slurred, which probably has something to do with the several empty bottles that litter the floor by the door that leads belowdecks.

Kessiel shies back guiltily, and her claws retract into her toes. She crosses her arms and turns around, then jumps up and lands in a crouch on the bow. Her blonde-furred tail flicks crossly, but she doesn't glance back.

He didn't say no claws in the rail, she realizes triumphantly. Deliberately holding her hands out so Doro can see them, she extends the claws in her fingers and sinks them into the wood.

Doro grumbles, but Kessiel hears his footsteps retreat belowdecks. Finally, she thinks, relishing her small victory. He's been watching me all morning, and I've finally gotten rid of him!

Another violent wave shakes the boat, but this time Kessiel waves her tail to steady herself and manages to balance on the railing. Didn't he say this passage was supposed to be smooth? she worries. For the first time, she frets about not having Doro on deck with her. As the appointed warrior in their small crew, he's usually on deck to guard the scout. But how is he supposed to protect me when he's drunk? And how am I supposed to scout with him nagging me? she thinks in annoyance. I can protect myself, thanks!

A tint of green colors the water to her left, and she turns to glance at it, pointed ears stretching to catch any sign of an abnormality. She just catches a deep rumbling sound below the roaring of the waves, accented by a faint hissing. Jumping from the rail and backing toward the center of the boat, she thinks, no wonder the waves are so bad, then reaches toward the door handle to call down for Doro.

A spray of cold, salty water accompanies the sharp jerk that sends Kessiel rolling. She quickly jumps to her feet, her claws embedded firmly in the deck to steady herself. Her tail lashes behind her, more out of agitation than for balance. Her eyes dart around, instinctively making sure nothing is behind her, before focusing on the thing that knocked into the boat.

It looks like a green noodle. About six inches thick and with stocky legs that seem too short for its length, it coils with lithe power as it pulls itself onto the deck. It’s perhaps twenty feet long, and its weight causes the boat to creak dangerously. It has shining, metallic green scales, gleaming in the sunlight as water runs in rivulets between them. A juvenile dragon, then. It doesn’t even have its wings yet.

Clenching her fists, Kessiel looks the dragon in the eye. I know I’m not supposed to be in this realm, she wants to tell it, knowing that even if she could speak, it couldn’t understand her.

She feels her heartbeat in her temples, distracting her as the dragon lunges forward with no warning. With a startled yelp, she jumps straight up as the fanged head passes beneath her and lands with all four sets of claws extended toward the creature’s back. Her claws slide off of the hard scales, but one manages to catch a groove between the plate-like armor and cut into the soft skin beneath. A squealing hiss escapes the creature as electric green blood dribbles from the wound and colors Kessiel’s hand.

She hisses in disgust, shaking her hand vigorously as she jumps back from the dragon and crouches warily on the deck.

It lunges for her again. She flinches, raising her arms, and its nose smashes into her forearms, sending her sprawling. Ow, ow, ow, ow. Hissing defiantly, she jumps to her feet.

The dragon rears back for another strike, but this time, Kessiel remembers not to flinch. She darts to the side, then changes direction and leaps at its neck. Her claws slide harmlessly off of the scales, and she loses her balance, barely twisting to land on her feet.

Fangs bite the air inches from her hair, and she covers her head, crouching down. Move, move, move, she tells herself, forcing the “hide” instinct to shut off. She scurries to the side before the dragon can hit her again, running toward the mast of the boat. Taking a flying leap, she catches the mast, all four sets of claws digging into the wood. That’s what Doro gets for not coming to help.

The boat rocks, the wind whipping through Kessiel’s hair and fur, but she holds on, glancing down at the dragon and sticking her tongue out. It stares at her for a second, looking confused, then begins to wind its way up the mast, clawed feet assisting it.

Eyes widening, Kessiel looks around for anywhere to jump down. The dragon’s body takes up the larger part of the boat, and anywhere else is within its attack range. Beyond them, endless water stretches out to the horizon, gentle waves pushing in unknown directions.

The dragon snaps at her heels, and she yelps, climbing higher up the mast. What can I do that’ll injure it through its scales? As it rears to bite at her again, she spots a patch of thinner scales on its neck. They still look hard, but the gaps between them are wider.

Just before its head snaps forward, she summons her courage and lets go. She falls down, claws hitting the dragon’s neck. A few hit scales painfully, but she succeeds in drawing several gashes down the dragon’s neck. Blood wells out, and she cringes but holds on.

I’m a demigod, she mentally tells the dragon as she heaves in a breath. Don’t mess with me. She hisses, more to distract herself from the pain than because she wants the creature to listen.

The dragon writhes beneath her, and she yelps, scampering around its neck for a better hold. Her tail lashes as she scrapes her claws down its neck again. Finally, it spasms once, then topples over the rail and into the water.

“Ctai!” a voice calls. “Tal vpetlan dù gà xofra?” After a moment, Kessiel realizes it came from the water. Still breathing hard, she peeks over the rail cautiously, looking down to see a girl waving at her. She has medium auburn hair framing her face, getting darker toward the back so that it’s almost black on the back of her head. The skin on her face is a bit lighter than Kessiel’s, accenting her turquoise eyes, and turns to dark brown on her back and the backs of her arms.

A mermaid? Didn’t mother tell me about them once? Her “brother’s” people, I think. Warily, Kessiel peeks over, waving slightly.

“Are you the daughter of Dasaria?” the girl calls, this time in the common tongue.

Kessiel nods, surprised. Despite her obvious feline attributes, few people have connected her to the god. Maybe the idea of one of their precious deities having a half-human child is too unbelievable.

Smiling, the mermaid swims closer to the boat. “Mind if I come up?”

Taken aback, Kessiel furrows her brow. How exactly does she plan to get up?

In answer, the mermaid jumps out of the water. As she reaches the air, she continues to push her mottled black and brown tail back and forth, and somehow, she starts swimming through the air. It’s an odd sight, water spraying off of her as she bends back and forth. 

Kessiel bristles in surprise, her hair puffing up slightly as she takes a step back. The mermaid stops in front of and above her, tail slowly moving back and forth to keep her airborne. She holds out a hand. “St’irian.” She pronounces it like “ss-tsee-ree-an”, with a harsh roll on the r.

Kessiel takes her hand hesitantly, shaking it. She points to her throat and shrugs, making a quiet meow.

“That’s alright,” St’irian says. “I’ve been told your name’s Kessiel. From the dead dragon, I take it you can fight?”

Blushing, Kessiel nods shyly.

“Good. There’s something I really need your help with.” She sighs heavily. “There’s no easy way to present this: I need you to help me stop the Dragon Eternal from being freed. I trust you know what it is?”

Eyes wide, Kessiel pauses, then nods. Who could possibly be trying to free it?

“Will you help me?”

She pauses again, thinking. What are we even going to do about it?

“Why not?”

Kessiel taps her wrist, then points at the boat and brings her finger up to point at the horizon.

“It’ll take time to get back?” St’irian translates.

Kessiel nods, eyes lighting up as the communication goes easier than she expected.

“Do you know how to shortcut through the spectral realm?”

She goes stricken, hair puffing up at the base and tail flicking in agitation.

“Okay, that’s alright,” the mermaid says comfortingly. “We don’t have to do that. But we have to do something. I know you don’t have any part in this, and you did nothing wrong, but I still need you. The whole planet of Cadiir bb needs you… maybe even the rest of the universe.” She looks down. “Cù sg’etlanuzt-jà d’esd cù saristanuzt,” she murmurs to herself, though the percussive nature of the language causes her words to still ring sharply.

Kessiel nods again, frustrated, and not just because she can’t understand St’irian’s language. I never said I didn’t want to go! She gives the mermaid a thumbs-up, then pauses, letting the message be as clear as possible. Then, as if a thought just occurred to her, she points at the door belowdecks.

St’irian looks at it, confused. “You want to go belowdecks?”

Kessiel rolls her eyes, making a meow of exasperation. Thinking of something else, she points at herself, holding up the number one. She points at St’irian, holding up two. Then she points at the door again, holding up three.

“There’s another person on the boat? I should have figured; I don’t think one person could run this boat on their own, demigod or no.”

Kessiel nods happily. It’s not exactly true… the fishermen are below too, on break, but she decides that the message is as clear as it needs to be.

“But why didn’t they come help you fight the dragon?”

She makes a disgusted face and gives an exaggerated shrug.

“Oh. They’re that type, then. Should we consult them, or just turn the boat around and wait until they come up to see what happened?”

Kessiel grins at the second option. Then a thought occurs to her. She taps St’irian before she can turn away, then lets her claws slide out of her fingers and mimics slashing something.

“Yes, we’ll have to fight.”

Kessiel nods quickly, then points at the two of them again, holding up the number two.

“I know there’s only two of us.”

She motions toward where the continent is and holds up three.

“You know someone on land who could help?”

She nods excitedly.

“Who?”

Kessiel pauses, thinking. She starts to motion, but stops, not quite sure how to say ‘My brother.’