Her tone put an end to Trent's arguing. He sighed and followed her into the racks of books and weathered magazines. Most of the magazines looked like the conspiracy tabloids with their grainy, black-and-white reprinted illustrations on the covers, accompanying lurid headlines like FISH GODDESS SIGHTED IN THE SEARING SEA and RETIRED BLACK SUSAN SPEAKS TO SEA MONSTERS IN HER DREAMS. Wynona lingered, looking at the magazines. She flipped through a few, compelled by curiosity, but didn't find anything about returning a sea monster to sleep. 

She walked on, scanning the shelves for more substantial books. As she moved, one title in particular caught her eye. The Legend of Yura. She snatched it off the shelf. The cover was worn, but well-made, leather, and the title had been branded into the material in elegant lettering. She let the book drop open in her hand, paging through it a bit frantically. 

Mostly it read like a studiously compiled journal of history and the natural world, complete with delicate ink illustrations of the flora and fauna of Tephra. Here and there, Wynona found full-page narrative spreads, illustrating specific moments in Tephran history, the long-gone monsters in the surrounding sea, and— 

Wynona's heart skipped a beat. 

A page detailed the history of ancient Tephran records about the sea monsters, and its accompanying illustration pictured a giant, crab-like creature waving its claws high while a small crowd of people — who looked like dolls in comparison — scrambled away into the surrounding foliage. 

"Trent," she hissed, her eyes landing on one specific sentence in the history passage. "Look!" She pointed. "It says it right here: Yura's presence is often foretold by excessive amounts of steam — allegedly from the geothermal vents in its back — and sometimes the scattering of other wildlife as they seek to hide from the monster'."

Trent took the book, reading over the page with an expression of increasing concern. "Okay, but Wyn. Maybe you didn't wake Yura. Maybe it just…woke up on its own?"

"You think HQ will believe that?" Wynona wanted to shake him. "If they think I woke a sea monster, I'm never getting my license. I'll probably have to go back to Claybay." She leaned back against the shelves, covering her face with her hands. Saying it out loud made it so much worse — and that much more real. "I'll just…" 

Her hands shook. She didn't know what she'd do if she had to go home. She wished that book had said something about how you put a sea monster back to sleep. 

"Okay, Wyn," Trent reassured. "That's not going to happen. Loch likes you, he wouldn't let HQ revoke your license. And, anyway…uh. We can fix this before he finds out anything's wrong."

Wynona peeked through her fingers in disbelief. "Fix it?"

"Yeah, totally. We can handle this." Trent did not sound confident that they could handle anything. But he grinned and, even though it looked forced, Wynona appreciated that he was at least trying to bolster her mood. "C'mon," he said. "Let's check out a few more books. Maybe there's something in there about how to get Yura to go back to sleep." 

He still sounded unsure, which wasn't all that inspiring — but Wynona couldn't think of anything better to do. They picked up a few more books here and there about myths and legends on the island. Most agreed that Yura was asleep under the hot springs, but there wasn't much written about how to get rid of a sea monster once you'd summoned it.

One book in particular had an illustration of Tephra taking up most of the page, with a sidebar set of panels displaying the crablike creature in one panel and another sea monster the other. A label under the crab read YURA, and the other sea monster's label said GELATA in elegant lettering. For one moment, a glimmer of curiosity kept her lingering over the illustrations. Gelata was what she'd so hoped they'd come here to defeat. Her first real mission could have ended in triumph — and proof that she was a capable and worthy Slayer. 

Then her gaze drifted back to the drawing of Tephra, and she felt guilty for being so worried about her license. People made their homes here, had whole, full, lives here. Clearly much more was on the line than her career.

She turned her attention to the text on the page adjacent to the illustration. Scanning the paragraphs gave her some information about Yura, but nothing that made her feel much better. 

Yura is an integral part of the culture to the Village of the Springs, though researchers have wondered why no one has observed the sea monster for over a century.

I would argue that the reason Yura has never emerged is, in fact, due to the presence of another sea monster — Gelata.

Gelata's body temperature is quite cool. Dwelling under the island, Gelata even kept the volcano, Magmathalos, dormant through cooling. Given this, I propose that Gelata has also kept all the magma of the volcano underground — thereby creating the perfect environment for Yura to live in, given that it prefers to make its home in molten material.

In short, if Gelata did not exist, more eruptions would likely occur on Tephra. Magma would be purged from underground, and the loss of its preferred habitat would leave Yura cold, which it dislikes. It would likely come out from underground in search of a warmer climate – perhaps on the island itself.

Wynona frowned at the text. It was perhaps good to know that Gelata maybe had some kind of symbiotic relationship with Yura, at least in the abstract, but it didn't help her right in this moment. Even as she flipped through the next few pages, there was no mention of what to do if Yura woke. 

"Did you find anything?" Trent asked, watching her pour over the book. 

"No, it's just more history. What about you?" 

Trent's face went pink with a sheepish blush. He had a few conspiracy magazines in hand, the title of one which read YURA? A MONSTER OR A GIFT??

Wynona snatched the magazine out of his hand, irritated. 

"Trent, are you serious?" 

"You never know!" Trent protested. "There might be something helpful in there—"

Before he could finish, a violent rumble shook the gift shop. Wynona nearly dropped the book and the magazine. Eyes wide, she glanced around, then looked back to Trent. 

"That was just another tremor," Trent said. "...Right?" 

"I think so?" Wynona had barely finished her sentence when the ground rattled again, hard enough this time that the book and the conspiracy magazine both slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a clap. 

When it stopped, she and Trent looked at each other, blood draining from their faces. 

"Uh. Okay," Trent bent to scoop up the magazine. He tucked it into his jacket. "C'mon. We'll pay for this later."