The waters at the end of the world rolled and crashed against one another with dispassionate dreariness, all the while reflecting the charcoal gray malaise overhead all its thunderous gloom.
They made an easy home in Seraphimus' eyes.
The griffon stared and stared, watching as the waves shifted and undulated for miles on end. A hint of moisture collected in the corner of her sockets... but she calmly blinked it away—just in time to reflect a few armored bodies gliding towards her.
Several breathless members of the Central Guard returned from their reconaissance, perching on the furthest bow of the first of the three steamships in Chandler's armada. They saluted Seraphimus and exchanged some breathy, unenthusiastic words. After digesting the information—or lack thereof—Seraphimus quietly dismissed them, then turned tail.
Spreading her wings, the former Commander of the Talon swiftly flew towards the centermost ship. She passed Chandler's empty chariot that was parked near the starboard side and made her way down into the lower cabin. Steam and red mist bathed her figure as she ducked through a compartment or two, finally approaching the single air-conditioned chamber of the boat. She wrapped her claws against the doorframe.
Chandler jolted. Visibly. A sweaty mane of matted helmet-hair clung to his neck as he looked up from a chaotically strewn assortment of maps that the Minister had been obsessively pouring over for hours.
"Any luck?" he stammered, leaning off of a weathered cot.
Seraphimus took a breath. "The fourth detachment returned." She slowly shook her head. "There's no sign of the Rainbow Rogue or her midnighter allies."
Chandler sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Could... they have passed under us?"
"In their submersibles, you mean?"
"Precisely."
Seraphimus shook her head. "I imagine our observers along the outer decks would have detected their magic. Besides... at this current juncture..." Her feathery brow furrowed. "...I would not expect the Rainbow Rogue to go anywhere but east... and unto the edge."
"So you would rule out some... wild attempt to circumnagivate us underwater?"
"Precisely."
"We're getting so close to the brink..." Chandler stared at his maps, grimacing. "Where are they?"
"Do you want to know my theory, Defense Minister?"
Chandler flashed her a look. "Always." He nodded.
"They're staging an attack," Seraphimus said. "It's inconceivable that the Rainbow Rogue and her allies would not know of our presence by now." Her beak muscles tightened. "If the Seventh Tribe is assisting her, then they'll be lending their knowledge of the surrounding waterscape."
Chandler dragged a sweaty hoof over the parchments stretched out on the cot beneath him. "I've been studying the crudely-drawn maps left here in the smugglers' hold..."
"Do they provide any useful information?" Seraphimus asked.
"Yes... and no." Chandler exhaled. "There are... notations written here suggesting that a slew of physical hazards form up along the very edge of the world."
"Like what kind of hazards?"
"Shallow bluffs. Crashed ships." Chandler gulped. "Considering all of the world's detritus that's carried along these currents... it would be no major surprise."
Seraphimus leaned back from the doorframe. "That could very well be our enemy's edge."
"Commander?"
Seraphimus ignored the Minister's improper address. "If there are multiple obstructions... then that means multiple opportunities for the Rainbow Rogue to stage an ambush."
"An ambush?"
"Indeed."
"But..." Chandler trembled slightly. "...to what end?"
Seraphimus' charcoal eyes narrowed. "To finish what she started in Frostknife."
Chandler squirmed beside the bed. With the shifting of his weight, the stallion's bulky breastplate dug into his chin. He didn't fight it. "What... would you suggest in this scenario, Seraphimus?"
"We perform a naval sweep."
"A... naval... sweep..."
Seraphimus gestured. "We strip one of the ships of all crew—save for essential personnel. We then position this ship several hundred meters before the rest."
"You suggest we have one vessel take point?"
"Affirmative." Seraphimus spoke calmly: "If there is any ambush—underwater or above—this front vessel could be used to draw them out. It's all a matter of positioning." She pointed. "The moment we detect any sort of attack, we can send the fliers from the two rear ships to pounce right away. So long as we position the vessels far enough from one another, we should remain in control of the situation."
Chandler nodded, his eyes searching the rusted rivets of the chamber walls. "Considering our current resources, it sounds like the most logical plan." Silence. He whipped out a blank piece of parchment, scribbled an order on it, and hoofed it to the griffon. "Hand this out above deck. Start selecting crew members to take point. We need keen eyes who can detect movement underwater."
Seraphimus bowed slightly. "Permission to be stationed on the frontmost ship, sir."
Chandler leaned back. "Granted. Of course."
Seraphimus saluted.
Clutching the scroll tightly, she turned tail and trotted back up the way she came.
She was halfway through the engine room when she heard a calm voice issuing from behind:
"It doesn't matter what formation we use."
Seraphimus scuffled to a stop, sighing.
Keris emerged from the steam. His eyes narrowed. "Rainbow Dash will still find a way to outsmart us. You know this." He shook his head. "Don't put more soldiers' lives needlessly in danger. Rainbow certainly isn't wanting to."
Seraphimus grumbled, "If you're so certain about what the Rainbow Rogue wants and desires..." She turned to glare at him. "...then perhaps you should be performing reconaissance to drag her out."
"You know why I can't do that, Seraphimus," he said. "What I told you back in Frostknife—"
"I think the Defense Minister has been more than gracious in allowing you and the Talon to join us on this hunt," Seraphimus said firmly.
"The Defense Minister should be back home, protecting our populace from the windigoes that have been unleashed," Keris spoke louder. "Instead, he's out here trying to start a new race war with the midnighters and you're falling right into his hooves."
"If the Seventh Tribe harbors a Goddess-killer, then they have brought the reckoning upon themselves," Seraphimus sneered.
"Do you even hear yourself anymore?!" Keris took a bold step towards her. "You were once a member of the Talon! You were a guardian of peace."
"I was a guardian of Verlaxion's peace," Seraphimus calmly retorted. "But the monster from the Blight took all of that when she murdered our Queen." She swallowed. "And then some."
"It wasn't Rainbow Dash who took your family, Seraphimus," Keris said. "It was Verlaxion."
She did not reply. Her eyes fluttered shut as she weathered a deep breath.
Keris cocked his head to the side. "And even after all you did... after all the things we sacrificed... you... me... Jordan..." He waved a talon. "...she gave us nothing more than an apocalypse to further her mad agenda. And being out here—chasing demons... her demons—isn't going to undo the damage that's been done."
Seraphimus stood in silence.
"I know that you feel as though you've got nothing left," Keris said. "So why surrender to that void?" He closed the distance between the two of them. "It was never the plight of your family that carried you so far, Seraphimus. It was your honor." He slowly shook his head. "You've still got the memory of your husband and child. Don't disgrace all of that here and now."
Seraphimus' eyes shot open. Piercing.
Keris leaned back.
She was already growling into his face: "I know enough about honor, Keris... which is precisely why I've chosen not to murder you for what you just said." With an angry flick of her tail, she turned and marched for the stairs leading above deck. "I must take point. Do not speak to me ever again unless it's to assist me with our cause."
Keris boldly rasped, "And what about once we've returned home, Seraphimus? What will we speak of after the vengeance?"
Seraphimus was gone.
And Keris hung his head.