Hansel: Foreknown

There was a moment of intense fucking pain, of being pierced by hundreds of spears and swords, of being burned alive from the inside out by red lightning.

But then there was a lurch, and it stopped. Hansel was floating peacefully, cool and whole, and a feeling washed through him that took him a second to recognize.

He cracked an eye open, croaking, "Sera?"

She hummed a response and pulled her hand away from the other eye, inspecting it dispassionately. He blinked it a couple times. Seemed to work.

"What am I always telling you about getting stabbed?" Serena asked.

"Don't." His voice was still dry and ragged. He felt like shit. Was probably the getting stabbed.

"You don't listen."

Hansel's dead crewmate offered him a hand in sitting up, and as he unthinkingly took it, he realized: he was dead. Aleksei had fucking shoved a knife -- Mishka's knife -- into his skull.

Shit.

They were on the ocean. It was as still and quiet as it ever was, a sheet of black glass spreading out in all directions underneath them -- and even as his balance should have been thrown off by sitting up, he kept floating. Serena rested on her knees with her legs tucked under her, and she floated just as easy.

There was something different about her. She sort of … glowed, like she was backlit by the moon. In reality, it hung massive and full above the surface of the water, casting a sharp white glimmering reflection across it. Everything was dark and light at the same time.

Hansel felt like he was only dreaming.

Then he shook his head, realizing. "Hang on. Nah. I gotta -- I'm not fucking done yet. I gotta go back. Mishka -- and Goro --."

"Settle," Serena said firmly. He did, made sheepish as always by her tone. "It's out of my hands. You're lucky that I even got you here."

He remembered the pain, not of dying but in the moment after, and the coolness of the water and the night felt cold suddenly.

"Gruumsh," he mumbled.

"Aye." Her expression never changed. She was solid. "There's no guarantee I'll ever be able to again. Try to *not* die, please, Commander."

"Pff." The title made him sit up straighter and look around, like there was anything to miss in the vast expanse. "Is … Cori …?"

Serena shook her head. "Mask has her, as she wanted."

He looked back to her. "Hunter?"

She just shook her head, eyes slipping off to one side, and he frowned.

"I'm sorry." He wanted to hug her, but hesitated, and just took her hand instead. Was she just fucking alone here? That wasn't fair. Wasn't right.

"She went back." Serena squeezed his hand, then let go of it. "She's so young. She'll … return in time, but she wants to live more."

"I can -- I'll find her, and --."

"Hansel, she'll be a child." Serena gave him an amused, wry look. "And you're dead."

"Yeah, and my fiance and daughter are both clerics. This is fuckin' temporary, achoti."

"I suppose."

"So we'll find her," he insisted. "Make sure she's okay. Take care of her."

"Just let her be," Serena said gently. "How would you even find her?"

"I dunno, but …"

"She wants to do things on her own." Serena's tone made it clear that Hunter hadn't abandoned her. "She wants the adventure. Let her have it."

He huffed. "Yeah. Fine. All right." After a beat, he asked the thing he was afraid to ask. "Eli?"

"Ilneval."

His gut tightened. That was what Elitash wanted. Ilneval's great war, young and strong again and full of bloodlust. Constant, eternal combat.

"Is she … d'you know if she's … happy?" he managed.

"I don't," Serena said quietly.

And Hansel was quiet for a long moment, too, before pulling Serena into a real hug, tight and fierce. She was alone here. All alone. She squeezed him back.

"Sorry I can't stay," he whispered.

"It's not so bad," she said. "It's very peaceful."

She'd always liked the peace and quiet, yeah. She'd liked going out with them, too, though, to noisy bars, even if she mostly just watched them get in trouble. He'd never asked her much about where she came from, but once he got to know her, he'd gotten the feeling like Serena had been very lonely for a very long time.

"Will you …" She hesitated, and pulled away. "Will you tell Kheman -- if you think it would help him -- that he has a place here? I'll see him again. Or Corven will. Just that he won't be alone."

Hansel nodded. "Yeah. 'Course."

"And -- tell Mishka --." Another hesitation. "It isn't his fault. And I don't hate him. Selune would be glad to guide him home, as well."

He nodded again, and after a moment, said, "I'm gonna kill Gruumsh. Won't have to save me again. I'll just -- come straight fuckin' here. And I'll fucking kill Ilneval too if I got to. I'll fix things, all right?"

A smile flickered across her face. "No one said things were broken, Hansel. Maybe things just are the way they are."

"Nah." He scowled. "Fuck that. We oughta be together. All of us."

Instead of arguing, she just said, "Well, regardless, do kill Gruumsh. That motherfucker murdered me."

She said it so calmly and matter-of-factly that he choked for a sec, and had to clear his throat. "Yeah. I mean, you got it, achoti." He paused. "I'm, uh. I'm sorry, Sera."

"Hansel, I don't blame you, either." Still as serene as her name. "I could have walked away. I could have never gone to sea in the first place. Mishka could have listened to me. You could have. There are many threads that could have been woven differently, but it was ultimately Gruumsh's shears that spoiled the tapestry."

He nodded a little. He had … kind of accepted that. Maybe he just needed to hear her say it, though. "Yeah. Guess so."

"And I was right, you know."

She usually was -- fuckin' seers -- but he had to ask, "About what in fuckin' particular?"

Serena grinned at him, and took his hand to tap her thumb against the sunrise ring. "You got yours."