They have spent three days at Sea now.
Three more days in a tiny, cramped skiff because two idiots didn’t think to bring a map with them on their drunk escapade.
And they dragged Rubio along with them.
“I think we may have made a grave mistake,” Thalia admits.
“You think!?” Rubio explodes.
“Hey, you can’t blame this on me; I have no memory of that night after a certain point.” Astra defends.
“That’s not how this works.
I can blame anyone here that I want, considering you two dragged me here.” He seethes.
“This is a kidnapping!
If they weren’t going to arrest me as well, I’d have already called the Navy on you two, sent you back to prison.”
“Oh, just quit whining; it’s getting old already.
It’s been three days.
You’re a petty bastard.” Thalia rolls her eyes in annoyance.
“I think I have a right to be petty here,” Rubio grumbles.
“What’s done is done; we need to focus on getting to another island.
Then we can separate.” Astra states.
A drop of sweat drips down Rubio’s neck, and he shifts uncomfortably in place.
It had been getting hotter; it wasn’t as noticeable earlier in the day…but now?
The sun beamed down on them, hot enough that Astra could see heat lines on the water.
Speaking of the water…he dipped a hand in, checking the temperature.
The water did little to cool the temperature of the air.
In fact, it felt like a pleasantly warm shower.
Rubio felt his heart sink in despair.
“I think we’ve crossed into the Arid Sea.” He mumbles.
“What!?” Thalia and Astra squawk.
“The Arid Sea, you know, the one next to the Royal Sea.
Super hot desert environment?
I thought they taught this stuff to toddlers?” He explains, giving them pitying looks.
“No, of course we know what the Arid Sea is!
But isn’t it dangerous if you don’t have the right supplies?
I don’t think we packed for a desert!” Astra frets.
“Yeah, I don’t want to become fried fish out here!” Thalia squeaks.
“The Arid Sea isn’t that bad; a lot of that is exaggerated for stories.
So long as we can find an island within the next…hm, two or three weeks, we should be fine.” Rubio says flippantly.
“I don’t know if you’ve looked around recently, but we are in the middle of the Sea!
Do you see any islands!?
We got insanely lucky last time; finding an island with no map is impossible!” Thalia groans, falling backward.
“And whose fault is this in the first place!?” Rubio exclaims, glaring.
“We’ll be fine; I’m sure an island will appear eventually.
There are islands everywhere.” Astra huffs.
“I don’t think you understand; the ratio of Sea to land in the Ten Seas is infinitely more skewed in the Sea direction.
There’s a reason trade routes exist.
Without a map, our chances of coming across an island are lower than low.
Not only that, but we could run into any number of disasters, like a storm or a whirlpool.” As he explains, Rubio sees flashes of every weather event he can think of, and he begins to hyperventilate a bit.
“Still, I’m sure we’ll make it to an island,” Astra states, a weird amount of confidence in his voice.
“Whatever you say.” Rubio sighs, forcing himself to calm down a bit.
The next few days are gruesome to say the least.
It only gets hotter during the day, but when night hits, they’re suddenly plunged into a cold that leaves them shivering.
They can’t even cool off in the water during the day, as the temperature of it rose along with everything else.
It wasn’t boiling or anything, but certainly too warm to do anything of note.
It certainly didn’t help that he kept all the layers of his overcoat and long-sleeve shirt on.
But he was unwilling to strip down into his underclothes.
Firstly, because he barely knew the two people he was on the skiff with, and secondly…he didn’t want them seeing his scars.
He didn’t want to see them either.
Crude, ugly things painting his skin.
Some small, some large.
But they were littered up and down his body.
On his arms, legs, and middle.
They were everywhere.
And he hated them.
So no, he wasn’t going to remove his clothes, even if it would prevent heat stroke.
Thalia wasn’t convinced.
“Alright, this is getting ridiculous.
How come both of you won’t just take the damn things off?
You’re just going to get yourselves killed, and I’m not going to sit around with your dead bodies.
I’ll drop them in the Sea.” Thalia threatens.
Astra had refused to take off any of his clothes either, leaving it a two-against-one matter.
“You’re only saying that because your clothes are revealing enough you don’t need to take any off.
If we asked you to strip right here and now, I’m sure you’d have a few problems with that.” Astra points out.
“Stripping completely and taking off a few layers are two different things, and you know it.” Thalia huffs.
“It doesn’t change my point though,” Astra states.
“It’s pointless to argue; either you accept it, or you try and strip us yourself.” Rubio crosses his legs, giving an ultimatum.
“Urgh, gross.
Fine, keep your clothes on, but remember what I said.” She agrees, rolling her eyes.
It’s only a day later that Rubio begins to regret his actions.
It’s seriously hot.
Sweat is dripping down his body like a river, and none of them have touched the oars, too hot and tired to row.
At this point, even if Rubio did take off his layers, he’d just end up getting burnt to a crisp.
Dying due to heatstroke or a sunburn, which was the better choice?
Neither, of course, but it’s not like he had a choice.
“I think…I think I see an island.” Thalia rasps.
“You sure it’s not just another heat illusion?
I’m not rowing over there just for it to be fake.” Astra heaves himself up a bit to glance over at where Thalia’s pointing.
Rubio looks as well, but he can’t see anything.
Both his companions have far better eyesight than him.
“Oh…damn, you might be right!
C’mon, let’s row.” Astra orders, scrambling for the oars.
“Can’t you two do it?
Rubio didn’t do it last time.” Thalia pouts.
“Yeah, well, if you want to get there at a snail’s pace, we can.” Astra smirks.
“You’re right.” Thalia agrees, grabbing the other oar.
“Don’t worry, I forgive you for this drastic insult to my strength,” Rubio comments sarcastically.
They ignore him, though, to focus on rowing, and he watches the island they were talking about slowly come into view.
It’s not an illusion, like the last three times someone claimed to spot one; this time it’s an actual island.
Only, as they get closer to it, Rubio notices something.
There’s nothing there.
It’s just an endless wasteland of sand with a few desert plants and trees scattered throughout.
Well, maybe the island is bigger than he thinks.
There could be a desert village or town further inland, or on the other side.
When they get the skiff onto the sand, the warm colors of the sunset are bleeding into the cool tones of the night sky.
All three of them are exhausted, and Rubio wants nothing more than to eat dinner and sleep.
They choose to camp near the skiff, at the base of a hairy-looking tree with big bulbous branches.
They get a fire going, as thankfully, they all knew the Rune formula for it, with Astra carving it into a nearby rock.
They dug into their food supplies, all unanimously agreeing to explore the island the next day.
Grabbing out their sleeping bags, Rubio fell asleep to the sounds of waves lapping against the beach.