It was the seventeenth day when Nikolas alerted the crew that the ocean's dangers would begin to reach us. Our calm nights of storytelling and drinking would no longer be coated in laughter and ease. However, the evidence of our smooth journey eased any worry the crewmen might have.
I had intended to speak with Nikolas early one morning, but a knock came at my door. Soft enough that it would not disturb me if I had been sleeping. With Aestos still asleep, it was Haris who walked in.
My room was dim. Barely coated in the brightness of candlelight. I still noticed how Haris' cheeks were developed with color as if he had run laps above deck. He briefly admired Aestos on the floor, then walked around him. And he perched with perceptible anxiety on my bed.
"Nevian, may I confide in you?" This way of asking was more nervous than the last. Haris would not look at me, instead patting nervousness into his thighs.
