It had been many weeks since Ceon and her husband Elouan had been sailing across the Aetherium. They had been following the bri energy of their youngest son Carantii, and of the jotun warlord Gigant, and until recently have been just one step behind.

  Ceon was sitting on the bow of the ship, staring off into the vast ocean of clouds and aurora branches that made up the Aetherial void; one of her hands clutching the thorned spear, lost in thought. She thought about Gigant and his invasion of Ithir which left many dead. She thought about her son and how she couldn’t make it in time to save him. She thought about how when she found that jotun she would rip him limb from li–. Her concentration was broken when she felt Elouan’s hand on her shoulder. She smiled at him and took hold of it.

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  “I don’t sense them anymore.” Ceon said to him quietly.

  “You don’t?” Elouan asked.

  “No. They’re close though.” She thrust her spear straight ahead at a strange swirl of clouds. “I last sensed them from over there.”

  “Then they are close. I’ll prepare the runes and open up the portal.” Elouan ran back to the rudder of the ship and pulled out a piece of paper, and began to read the words out loud. As he recited the words, the jotun runes etched along the ship started to glow. Then at the bow of the ship, it looked as if the Aetherium was being gently pulled apart like a curtain; revealing in front of it, a small fishing village in a bay; on a calm summer’s night.