A lamp on the wall flickered in the breeze of a half-opened window. Shadows danced across the room and the wind caressed Tristan’s skin, drawing him out of unconsciousness. 

“You’re awake,” said Luna.

Luna looked down on Tristan who was stretched out on a bed that smelt of honey and garlic.

He hadn't seen her since the day he arrived in town. She looked tired and worried. Her skin was pale with dark rings around her eyes and her hair was sweaty and clung to her face. 

“I thought you were avoiding me?” he asked.

She smiled and her worried expression softened.

“Is this your way of getting to see me?” she asked as she pushed wet hair out of her face.

“It worked,” he said.

She laughed softly. “It cost you two cracked ribs and more bruises than you will ever count. I don't think it was worth it.”

Tristan started to laugh but the twinges from his ribs stopped him short. 

He looked down at his hand but the draconian scales had vanished. He figured it must have been a hallucination caused by him suffocating.

“How’s Scarlet?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“She arrived at my hut late last night dragging you along the ground like a sack of potatoes and complaining all the while about how heavy you were. She just said help him and then she left.”

Tristan sighed in relief and gave Luna the smallest of nods.

“She's been around three times already to check on you but she hasn't spoken a word about what happened. She did leave you that hideous trophy though.” 

Luna tilted her head towards the corner and Tristan strained to lift his head. He saw a tooth the length of his arm propped up against the wall. 

“She said she’d take the other one as payment.”

Tristan leaned back in the bed and grunted in pain. “Now I owe my life to two beautiful women.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” said Luna as she placed her hands on her hips in what was meant to be a serious pose but instead made her look even cuter than usual.

“Time will tell,” Tristan said.

“All you have right now is time. Rest up Tristan. I'll wake you later for dinner.”

***

Tristan woke up to the sound of Luna humming a lullaby. He kept his eyes shut as he walked over to the bed. His skin pricked as her fingers gently ran along his chest inspecting his bandages. It was ticklish. He resisted laughing as her fingers ran lower down his stomach. A shiver ran down his spine and his lip twitched in a smile. His eyes opened and Luna flushed in surprise.

“You’re awake?” she asked quickly.

Tristan faked a yawn and looked around as if he had just woken up.

Luna backed away from the room, her face still red. She crossed the room and poured him a glass of water.

Tristan took the glass from her, took a long refreshing sip and was surprised to feel no pain in his body. 

“Luna, you're a miracle worker,” he said as he prodded his wounds experimentally.

“Hardly,” she said. “I've never seen wounds heal this quickly. If I hadn't seen what condition your body was in when you arrived I wouldn't have believed you’d even been injured.”

“But you’ve been out for days. You must be starving.”

Luna brought him a bowl of steaming vegetable stew. The smells awakened a hunger inside of him and washed away all the questions he had. 

Tristan didn't even wait for it to cool. He didn't waste time blowing on it. He ladled steaming broth into his mouth and the juices ran down his chin as he devoured the bowl of stew as if his life depended on it.  

“The blacksmith came round this morning,” said Luna, with an amused grin on her face. “He took that giant serpent’s tooth.” 

“Aha,” Tristan mumbled around a mouthful of stew.

“He also said that he felt lower than a whale’s turd for sending you into those woods,” Luna cleared her throat as Tristan lifted the bowl to his mouth and swallowed the remainder of the stew. 

“Is that all?” Tristan asked.

Luna smiled. “Well, he also said that you are dumber than a barrel of hair for getting injured and if you don't get better soon he's going to find himself a new apprentice.”

“That weasley bastard,” Tristan muttered. 

Luna laughed and took the bowl from him.

“Am I better, doc?” asked Tristan. 

“Yes, just one last thing before you leave,” she said, as she walked to her table and mixed a small potion for him. 

“Drink this,” she said.

Tristan threw back the drink, his eyes watered, his cheeks ached and his nose began to run. It was the bitterest thing he’d ever had.

“What’s that for?” he asked when he had caught his breath again.

Luna laughed. “That's for pretending to be asleep,” she said.

***

Gabbro, Moh and Tana were working the forge when Tristan arrived at the blacksmiths lodge. Gabbro was hammering out steel spears for the fisherman. Tana was yelling at her father and Moh whistled a tune barely audible over the hammering. 

“Hey, it's the young warrior,” said Tana, seeing Tristan arrive. 

Moh nodded at Tristan and gave him a toothless grin.

Gabbro pointed one of his crutches at him. “Took you long enough,” he said. 

“You know I almost died?” Tristan said.

“Smooth seas don't make good sailors,” replied the blacksmith.

“And what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.”

“Now I wish that serpent had killed me,” said Tristan. “So I wouldn't have to hear your fortune cookie wisdom any longer.”

Gabbro laughed.

“It's good to have you back, boy. Now put on some work gloves. We don't have much time left to forge that sword of yours.”

“Really?” Tristan asked. “There’s a good four days left before the ship arrives.”

“That was true three days ago,” said Gabbro. “You were out of it so long I thought you’d moved in with the young healer.”   

“Wait,” Tristan stuttered. “You saying I only have a day left to forge my sword?”

“Not if you stand there looking at me this whole time.”

“Well let's get this sword made then, I didn't almost die for nothing.”

Tristan gripped the steel with a pair of tongs and heated it in the forge until the color of the steel turned yellow. Tana stood by his side through the whole process guiding him all the while he worked. 

Gabbro returned a while later with a roast bird, some potatoes and a herb salad. 

“Can't work on an empty stomach,” he said.

They ate and chatted and laughed, enjoying the company and the warmth of the forge.

Time passed quickly and Tristan’s hands worked tirelessly. Soon the sun disappeared and still they kept working. 

Moh hauled more coal for the fire and Gabbro sat close to the fire sculpting the serpent's tooth into a handle for the sword. Gabbro told stories of his time at sea, of sky pirates swooping onto their decks from kites attached to their backs and he told us about his wife and how she’d loved the ocean. 

As the sun began to rise on Tristan’s last day on Westwind the sword was done.

The blade was quenched in oil. Gabbro attached the handle and added his finishing touches to the weapon.

Despite their exhaustion, the excitement had captivated them and kept them working even when the light failed.

“Your sword is done,” said Gabbro as he handed the weapon to Tristan.

Tristan held the sword up to the morning light and they inspected it together. 

“We transformed the serpent's tooth into the handle,” said Gabbro. “The pommel is fashioned into the head of the serpent. As a sign of respect for the beast that gave its life for this weapon.”

“It is traditional to name your first weapon,” said Tana, as she stifled a yawn.

“What about Venom?” said Gabbro.

Tristan shook his head.

“Fang?” suggested Moe.

“I was thinking, something like Friendship,” said Tristan.

Gabbro snorted. “That's a boring ass name, you need something grand like Slayer or Tempest.”

Tristan smiled at the blacksmith and shook his head again.

“This was a team effort,” he said. “If it wasn't for Scarlet arrows or Luna's healing or your abilities and dedication this sword wouldn't exist. I want to name it something that honors that.”

“What about Unity?” said Luna, who had just stepped into the forge.

“Unity,” said Tristan as he raised the sword and swished it through the air, almost knocking over a vase in the process.

Gabbro groaned. “Do you even know how to use the blade?”

“I’ll learn,” Tristan said.

“We went through all that,” said Tana “And you don't even know how to use the thing. I could have been sleeping right now like a normal person.”

Luna walked up beside Tristan and laid a hand on his arm. “It's a great weapon.”

“Did you just come to see it?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I came for you.”

Tristan felt his cheeks going red.

“The ship has arrived,” she said. “If you are still coming, we need to get moving.”

“Oh,” he stammered. “Of course.”

Gabbro gave Tristan a coin purse for his work, minus the costs for making the sword of course and told Tristan that he always needed a good apprentice and was welcome back anytime.

Tristan told them he’d come back and see them once he’d visited the magi in Porthaven. He didn't know where the magi’s information would send him, but if the information led nowhere he would return to Westwind and start a new life there. 

***

Tristan had Luna's bags in his hands and his new sword strapped to his back with one of Luna's scarves.

“What’s in these bags?” he complained as they made their way to the docks.

“A few odds and ends I’ll need at the academy,” she said.

“You mean a stack of books and a few cauldrons,” Tristan said. 

She laughed and then, noticing the time, she started walking faster. 

“Can you pick up the pace a bit?” she asked.

“Really? Why didn't you fetch me sooner?” Tristan asked.

“I arrived an hour before you finished your sword. I could tell you were all exhausted and had worked all night on it. I couldn't take that from you all. So I waited and watched until you were done but now we need to run.”

“What about Jayce and Scarlet? I never got to thank them for everything.”

“Don't worry,” said Luna. “They’ll be waiting for us at the docks. If our ship hasn't already set sail.”

The docks were alive with activity when they arrived. Seagulls squawked. The smell of week old fish guts filled the air and shipmasters bellowed orders. Fishermen hauled their catch into carts and merchants shouted out their wares to every passerby.

They passed a group of fishermen singing as they unloaded their catch but beyond all the noise and all the business the shining bay came into view.

Their ship, the Hippogriff, was anchored at the docks. It was a sleek vessel with white sails and a dark wooden hull. A lamp hung from the rear of the ship and the bust of a horse made up the figurehead. It was a merchant ship, but they had space for a few passengers.

The captain of the ship, a small man named Grewal Bastion, was waiting for them when they arrived on the pier. He stood alone, scrunching up a small bowler hat and twitching his enormous mastache. He looked harassed and impatient. 

“You’re passengers?” he asked, as they strode up to him. Luna wiped sweat from her forehead and nodded. Tristan put down Luna's bags and his sword strapped and panted heavily. Tristan was exhausted and ready to collapse, the injury and sleepless night was finally catching up to him.

“Yes, that's us,” said Luna in a cheerful voice.

The small man put the bowler hat on his head and blew out his mustache.

“You late,” he growled as he ushered them up the plank and onto the ship. “Would have left you behind if your companion hadn't stopped me.”

“Well thank you for waiting, good captain,” said Luna in an overly patient voice.

Tristan wanted to tell the man to stick his hat where the sun doesn't shine, but Luna, sensing Tristan’s mood, gripped his arm and pulled him along before he could say a word.

They boarded the ship and Tristan set their luggage and looked around. Large wooden crates were strapped onto the deck and he imagined there were even more below.

“What do you trade?” he asked the captain.

The man puffed out his chest. “These crates are full of spices, glass and jewelry we’ve bought from the islands,” he said. “We sell only the finest quality you see.”

“Where do you sell them?” Tristan asked.

“Well Aressea of course, we sometimes stop in Hento too, even Ralo if the winds are good.”

Luna listened but she looked distracted. 

“Should be here already,” she muttered.

“Raise the sails,” shouted the captain as he strode past them. “Time to leave this light forsaken place.” 

“But my companions,” said Luna.

The ship slowly turned out to sea and as if on cue a voice shouted from the docks. “Wait for me, hoa.”

“It's Jayce,” Tristan cried as he saw the orange mohawked man running alongside the ship with his luggage in hand. 

“Stop the ship.”

The captain eyed Tristan’s hair. “Wouldn't stop for the High Lord himself,” said the captain. He waved his hat at Tristan. “The lad’s just gonna have to wait for the next ship. Should be one in a few weeks time.”

“He's not stopping,” Tristan said, as Jayce continued his mad sprint along the docks.

“You might want to move away from the side,” Luna said as she stepped back herself.

“What? What?” said the captain.

By that time Jayce was sprinting faster than a horse. The air around him shimmered. He tossed his bag of luggage at us and while it was still flying through the air he leaped and launched himself straight at Tristan. 

He’s not going to make it, thought Tristan.

Without giving it a second thought Tristan dived forward and caught Jayces outstretched hands which had missed the sides of the ship by a few inches. His weight dragged Tristan to the edge but just before they both went over the side. Something slammed into Tristan’s legs and he felt shackles fastening around his ankles and to the ship’s railings.

Tristan groaned as they went over the edge and dangled from the shackles. Jayce swung from his hands and his feet dragged in the ocean.