Hem Slonnigum II woke from his place and blinked his eyes in protest to the gleaming sun. He had no choice but to roll off the top plank and fall gracelessly to the ground. Breema groaned as the sound woke her up.

“We gotta,” said Hem, stretching in total pain. The bumps and the bangs would clear themselves shortly. The wounds, however, WOULD NOT. “We just gotta.”

“Aye,” muttered Breema. She shrugged her shoulders and yawned and did all kinds of stuff.

Hem looked out at the ocean glittering in the dawn. Its deep blueness was unsettling, too blue, almost dreamlike in its intensity. The sun cast golden specks that danced like Nurmermermaids across the placid surface. A breeze rustled over the sand and scattered white particles into the air.

Breema joined him in his gaze upon the water. She looked at him askance and said with a bit of humor, “Every morning.”

“Aye.”

“I’ll heat up some of the hrgert then.” She turned back and set to work cooking.

The Island Realm had not been what Hem expected when he first saw it. Full of light, sun, terrific storms, and vivid saturated colors that came out of a Wayward Spirit’s psychotic vision, the South O’ Things were a surface-level paradise that attracted only the most vain and the most corrupt. Hem wondered which he was.

He winced and limped over to join Breema at the fire. “We didn’t have to sleep outside.”

She didn’t look up from her work. “But I like it. How are them arms?”

“Still attached.” He swung his left arm uselessly. “This one barely.”

“Give it another few days, we’ll find the Cove.” Breema paused for a moment in the cooking and said to Hem, “You can go back to starin’ if you want. Hrgert’ll be done in ten minutes.”

Hem went back down to the beach and ventured into the Heated Waters of the Boiling Ocean. The hissing steam singed his feet and he stood there for a bit, wondering what Blom Blomgrin would have thought of this moment.