The brig was a dark and cramped room, deep within the hold of the warship, and as the door slammed shut behind them Vivi couldn't help but feel a bit claustrophobic. Myrin and Owen had both been imprisoned together with her—a stroke of sheer luck, according to Myrin, who said he had heard the crew discussing splitting the prisoners between the two warships. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't long before two other prisoners were thrown into the brig with them: Morwen, the little raven-haired girl—Vivi couldn't recall ever having heard her talk at all, and she spent most of her time just glowering at anyone who came near her—and the Crow.

"Great. Of course we get stuck with you," Vivi growled, glaring at the wounded assassin—he was sitting hunched over on the empty crate that served as the brig's only bench, with a mess of bloody bandages around his waist. "Murderer."

"I've killed very many people," the Crow mumbled. "You'll have to be more specific."

Vivi's eyes narrowed. "You killed Kharis and Ardreth."

"What's it to you?" the Crow grunted, not even bothering to look up. "Were they part of your crew?" He shook his head, confidently answering his own question without waiting for a response. "I know their type. They wander around, looking for trouble... in other words, they died as they lived."

Vivi clenched her fists, feeling her anger boiling over as the memories of the battle finally started to sink in. It was true, Kharis and Ardreth didn't always travel with them—but that didn't mean they weren't part of Aenwyn's crew. She stared furiously at the Crow for a moment—and then, in a rush of grief-stricken anger, swung around and punched him in the side of his head, her knuckles cracking against the moon elf's skull.

Initially, the Crow didn't react in the slightest—he simply slumped against the wall, staying in the position he had been punched into. Soon, however, he seemed to wake up as if from a dream, and a malicious sneer slowly crept onto his face.

"You know," he said, his voice clear and calm, "I'm having a really bad day."

Suddenly, without warning, the elf jumped to his feet and lunged towards Vivi. As if he had been expecting exactly this, Myrin sprung to his feet as well and grabbed hold of the assassin, holding him back. Owen, meanwhile, got up to stand next to Vivi—perhaps thinking he'd have to hold her back as well.

"Please, sir, none of this," Myrin said as he struggled against his opponent. "I don't think any of us have had the best of days today."

"He killed our crewmates!" Vivi spat, shoving Owen away from her. "He killed them, and you're defending him?!"

Myrin grunted as the Crow struggled against his grip; although he was clearly weakened by whatever injury he had sustained, he was still a formidable fighter. "Not defending him," he hissed as the assassin landed an elbow strike in his midsection. "I'm trying to stop him from strangling you."

Seething with rage, Vivi only replied with a furious glare. Meanwhile, Myrin managed to at least partially subdue the Crow and, with some assistance from Owen, wrestled him back onto the crate where he had been sitting earlier.

"Now, sir," Myrin said sternly, "we have some things to say to you, and you will listen whether you'd like to or not."

The Crow grunted, leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes. "I'm sure I will," he replied haughtily.

Myrin took a deep breath, trying to mask his frustration. "We both need each other to get out of this alive," he said, crossing his arms as well. "With that bad of a wound in your side, you won't get far on your own... and we'll need someone to guide us to a safe house."

The assassin sighed, eyes still closed. "And why should I help you with that?" he mused. "Please. Enlighten me." He smiled mirthlessly.

"To put it bluntly, sir," Myrin replied sourly, "you are at our mercy. I'm sure we understand each other."

The Crow grimaced, clearly disgusted at the idea of being at anyone's mercy, but he didn't argue any further. "I can pick the lock," he grumbled after a few moments of silence. "And I can direct you to a safe house west of Nar Badhir if that's where we end up. But getting past the crew of a ship this size might prove... difficult."

"If they do make landfall in Nar Badhir, we stand a decent chance," Myrin replied. "I just hope they don't intend to return to Eskiholt immediately."

"What difference does it make?" Morwen piped up from where she sat in the corner. Vivi turned to look at her, forgetting to be angry for a moment from the sheer surprise of actually hearing her speak—her voice was bright and airy, but it had a sickly rattle to it.

The elf's purple eyes finally snapped open again. "You people and your small minds," he snarled, seemingly delighted at the prospect of having someone else on whom he could unleash his frustration. "It'll be much easier to hide if we can escape here; we'll gain at least a slight advantage by having someone who knows the area—myself—and it'll make it easier to evade them as well. That's what difference it makes."

"If we can escape," the girl muttered, looking down at her hands. "You fools are acting like everything's gonna turn out fine just because you have some fancy hideout."

"Ah yes," Vivi scoffed. "Emo child one and emo child two, a match made in heaven."

The girl rolled her eyes in response, turning around to face away from Vivi. The Crow, meanwhile, looked as if he was about to protest, but Myrin cut him off.

"Enough bickering," he said, glaring sternly at Vivi for a moment before turning to face the little girl. "And as for you, Morwen... if you can't think of anything helpful to say, just be quiet."

Morwen evidently had nothing helpful to say, but for the first time since they had been thrown into the hold she lifted her head to glare at Myrin—Vivi was taken aback by the intensity of her bright amber eyes; they had a look in them that was truly withering.