They wound their way back through the ship to the upper decks. Xasan went to a doorway that was nestled between the stairs that went up to where the wheel of the ship was located. It probably had a name.

Xasan left the door open behind him as they entered a small waiting area lined with comfortable looking benches. He went through another door which entered into some sort of meeting place. Brysys glanced behind herself and noted how normal the doors looked, no heavy locks, possibly none at all. That struck her as very trusting for a pirate captain.

“I can leave the doors open,” Xasan offered, when he noticed her inspecting the latches.

“No, that’s alright. I was just wondering if this room was secure? Aren’t you attacked sometimes?”

Xasan chuckled and went to pull a large notebook out of a cupboard. “They’re magically sealed. Too many lockpicks around to bother with normal locks.” That made some sense. Pirates were thieves in their way, so there were probably plenty who knew how to pick a lock. “Have a seat wherever you like.”

Brysys took a look around, noticing the large table that was presently empty, the fireplace with some seating in front, but that felt too cozy for what they’d be doing here. She pulled out a chair from the table that backed onto the wall. It felt strange to be the only one sitting at a table intended for eight, but a moment later Xasan joined her, notebook and charcoal in hand.

He sat several spaces away, but not on the opposite side of the circle. Close enough that it wasn’t awkward, but far enough away to be comfortable. Brysys already knew he must be better with people than her, but moments like this highlighted her own failings. How did he just know without her having to say anything? It was like each person was their own lock and she had to try every key before anything clicked.

Perhaps Xasan just used lockpicks.

Maybe she was still fixated on locks.

“So,” his deep, smooth voice pulled her from her revelry. “You’re looking for someone? What can you tell me about them?” He kicked his feet up, like he had in the bar, just as comfortable in his home as a saloon. 

Just past him Brysys saw an elaborate stained glass room divider depicting a shipwreck, but the ocean looked like desert dunes. What was behind it? But his question prompted her to focus on her own mission. “Yes, a man. He’s a Wyld Elf.”

She began to describe the man: approximate height, red hair, red and orange eyes, small scar across one eyebrow. Xasan paid attention, although he knew from the start that he’d never encountered the person, or at least that version of him. Wyld elves changed, most of them didn’t change as much as Deelah’s mother, but none of them stayed entirely the same all the time. They were as ephemeral as the plane in which they lived.

“Where was he last seen?” It seemed like an easy place to begin. Trove was  a central hub, but some ships traveled farther away from it than his. There were some who only stopped back into port every few years, preferring to do most of their work on other oceans. 

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. She seemed more at ease now that they were talking about her interests. It wasn’t that Xasan hadn’t been keen to before, it just seemed a little pointless without his supplies. Better to get her input as he drew than to check in once he was done. “He might not even be on this plane. He travels between them, through the Wyldlands, so I’m not sure.”

Xasan nodded. This was sounding like a fool's errand, but that wasn’t the sort of thing people enjoyed hearing. “There are ways to check. Do you have something personal to him?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Right. So you probably don’t have a lock of hair either? Blood? Semen?”

“No. None of those.”

Figured. “Alright, well with a good enough description and his name I can-”

“I don’t actually know his name either.” The words came in a rush, like a confession, and the blush on her cheeks told him that it wasn’t something she admitted often. 

“I see.” The silence that lapsed was unbearable. Brysys kept watching her new Captain as he focused on his notepad, not looking up at her as he had done before. 

She was such a fool. She knew she should have evaded the question, but how was she supposed to find him if she didn’t tell the truth about it? People would just keep expecting things that she couldn’t give them until the truth came out.

“Do you know this man?” There wasn't an accusation in his voice, but she still felt it. Still felt guilt over dedicating herself so fully to an idea she was so unsure about. 

“I- it’s complicated.” How could she tell him more of the truth? That he was just a dream that she woke up with one morning, that he was feeling that she hadn’t ever experienced before, and the fact that she dreamed him up had to mean something. There was too much to it to be just her own mind.

“Hmm, we may need to start over, but have a look at this first,” he sighed, turning around his notebook to reveal a work of art. 

Brysys assumed that he’d just been taking notes, but no. It was the two of them, him and her together, gazing into one another’s eyes. It was stunning, breathtaking in a way so literal that she needed to look back up at him to give her opinion. “How did you do that?”

There was a sparkle in his golden eyes, a gleam of smug satisfaction. “Years of practice.” He looked around the picture and then shrugged. “Is it accurate? I can do another. It will  help to have something visual when we show the bounty hunters in Trove.”

Brysys gave some small corrections, length of hair, shape of nose, size of scar. It was difficult without color, but Xasan had managed to capture the essence of the man she sought even with her scattered description.

They looked nice together. She had always imagined that they might, but seeing it now- “Can I have that?”

He tore out the sheet and handed it over. “I’ll leave you out of the next one.” He didn’t start on the next portrait right away, instead placing the charcoal and pad on the table and pulling out a knife to clean his claws. “Why do you want to find him? Are you going to want him hurt? Because that costs extra-”

“No! No, not hurt. I just- I think he’s looking for me too.” She shooked her head. “It’s a long story. I don’t want to talk about it right now, but-” She pulled her eyes away from the portrait long enough to meet Xasan’s and offered him a smile. “Thank you, for this, and for helping me.”

He smiled back, maybe in the softest way she’d seen so far. “It’s good to have you Bryn.”

Brysys blinked. “What?”

“Hmm?” He blinked too, clever. His demeanor shifted immediately, covering for his mistake, but Brysys knew what she heard.

“Brysys.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“No, it isn’t.” It didn’t matter, though. She didn’t care what she was called. She just wanted to find him. “Whatever. Call me what you like, but may I ask you a question?”

Xasan opened his arms, dagger still in hand, “Please do.” 

“You mentioned that you’re,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “pirates.” Xasan grinned widely at her discretion, and she returned to a normal speaking voice as she continued, “is that safe to talk about here?”

“If we can’t discuss it here, in my chambers, then there probably isn’t anywhere we should.” He made a good point. She probably should have worked that out herself, but she didn’t want to overstep and get herself in trouble. She hadn’t always been so cautious, but that was before she’d been run out of several towns.