1. Schism (1/2)

burgundy sails snapped in a fitful wind that set the sailors muttering. the sea-witch had her ways, they said, and owned both sea and sky. ships plied the waves by her permission, or not at all. there had been frost at sunrise, great spears of rime coating the rigging. the tropical sun had banished it quickly, but it was one more sign of sin's proximity. that, and the lightning's balefire dancing on the mast at midnight.

"land ho!"

the call was hardly needed. all eyes not bent to shipboard tasks were fixed on the wisps of smoke billowing on the horizon, fading now like the last

eath of a dying fire. the rising column veiled half the sky in a grayish-pink fume that stretched clear back to djose. for six disquieting days, the sskonna had sailed under that gray pall, seeing only an orange smudge where the sun should be. flecks of ash came fluttering down, dissolving to powder wherever they touched. a stark whiff of burning hung in the air.

one of the harpooners began to sing the hymn of the fayth. the subdued refrain spread out in ripples from the ship's bow as roughened sailors' voices took up the chorus. a squad of warrior monks, cleaning their weapons on the aft deck, added their voices in prayer. on the railing above them, a red-haired man in priestly robes smiled and cupped his hands in yevon's sign. neither he nor the pair of guards flanking him joined in the singing, however.

boots clattered up the ladder beside them. stepping onto the observation deck, the woman raised her arm in salute. "your grace. we'll make besaid by sunset."

"very good, captain. tell your crew the danger is past. sin is at least a day from here by now."

"with all due respect, milord—" she began. suddenly, she pivoted towards the man keeping watch. "tatts, what's that thing you're wearing around your neck?"

the sailor's hands flew to the bone pendant that had slipped out from the bib of his overalls. "it's, ah, it's nothing, cap'n. just a carving of a pretty lady, y'know, that caught me fancy." his cheeks reddened.

"sin!" she spat. heads turned as the woman stalked towards him, sea-boots hammering the deck. "the grand maester of yevon sails with us, and i have an idol-worshipper who wearssin over his heart! hand it over, or i'll throw you overboard with it."

the sailor blanched. torn between duty and devotion, the wretched man drew the thong over his neck and dropped the pendant into her waiting palm. raising her arm, the captain prepared to fling it into the waves.

"please. let me see it," the maester said.

for a moment it seemed she might feign deafness. grand maester isaaru was a soft-spoken man, and the sails boomed like a drum-head. however, his shorter bodyguard, a youth who looked too green for such an important post, was blocking her throw. scowling, the captain held out the necklace. "i'm sorry, your grace. sailors are too far from the temples, too close to the sea. and that one came close to meeting his unholy god six months ago. the toxin—"

"he survived a sin attack?" said the second guard, an older man with dark skin and a hawk's profile.

isaaru cupped the bone charm in his hand. at a distance, its triangular silhouette could easily be mistaken for a shark's tooth. closer inspection revealed a stylized carving of a woman's face and neck down to the collarbones, captured with an economy of line. there was a haughty arch to the

ows— or rather,

ow, since one side of the face was cut away at a slant. negative space showed where the hair should be.

"the same face," he mused. "always the same."

when he slipped the sacrilegious amulet into his robes, the captain stiffened. he chuckled at her expression. "have no fear, kiyuri. a scrap of whale-bone the size of a thumbnail is hardly likely to draw sin's attention...or mercy," he added to the anxious watchman. "if it returns, we are all in equal peril."

"but, your grace—"

"look after your ship, captain, and let the maesters look after yevon, no?"

"my lord." the woman gave a jerky salute, glared at tatts and went below.

"now," isaaru said, turning to him with a reassuring smile. "perhaps you can tell us what you saw. we need to know all we can, since sin has changed its ways."

"aye, it has, me lord," the sailor stammered. "that is, she don't bother any ship that leaves her waters in peace. stray not west o' besaid if ye sail under yevon's holy seal. the al bhed heathens live free of sin's wrath, they say, all around the western isles. me last ship, me captain tried to make the old run from luca to bevelle the short way 'round. three days northwest o' luca, the lady put the ice to us till every sail and line were coated with it and men couldna walk the deck. then the gale-winds came up and shattered the sheets. at the last, lightning struck the mast and split the hull right down into the water like roots o' tree."

isaaru nodded at a tale that could be heard in one form or another in every port. "how did you escape?"

"al bhed ship picked me up, then, didn't it? me and a few other souls. dropped us off near the ruins of old guadosalam."

"and you saw sin? what did it—"

"your grace," the younger guard interrupted, "can't we finish this later? you're too exposed up here. there may be sinspawn in the harbor."

"just a moment, pacce."

the second guard cut in. "no, isaaru, he's right. yevon's your job, but ours is keeping you safe. and you don't make it easy for us! get under cover. i'll stay up here with our sin-worshipper and find out what else he knows."

"all right, maroda, all right," isaaru shook his head. "tatts, for all of spira's sake—" he would have said yevon, but this man clearly followed a different allegiance— "please answer my

other's questions as well as you can. may high summoner yuna bless you."

"th-thank you, your grace."