4th of Nextious 10:00 a.m.

                The darkness slowly abated before Rick’s eyes revealing a faded and cracked blue ceiling, seagulls screamed nearby, and the crash of waves beat against the shore in time with his heartbeat. Groaning, he rolled stiffly onto his side, his ruined shoulder screamed in pain causing him to suck in a breath. The smell of spiced fish wafted to him, causing his mouth to water, yet he waited, patiently observing his surroundings. It was a humble abode, simple rough made table and chairs sat in the kitchen area, the bed he was on faced a television as though it was also used as a couch, one door seemed to lead outside while another Rick assumed would lead to the bathroom.

                “It is beautiful,” Alice said, “did someone rescue us?”

                “I can think of no other possibility.” Rick said as he moved to get up. His right arm and foot did not move, looking down he saw that both were in casts. “ugh,” he groaned laying back down. “I need to stop getting injured.”

                “I agree, I hate seeing you like this.”

                “Alice, you can’t see me you are in me.”

                “You know what I meant,” she huffed.

The door to the outside was thrust open as a gnarled old man knotted like an old unusable piece of lumber came in hauling a bucket filled with various fish bits which he chucked into a massive simmering pot. “Ay, don’t you worry about a thing the smell you smell don’t come from that pot, that is the remains of me fish cleanings, simply making a simple broth for later.”

“you have not reported my escape?” Kite asked.

                “Escape? More like suicide. But nah. I’m a Trin’on no love for Cuh’nok is held within my heart.”

                “From your accent I thought you might have been, honestly was unsure any of you had survived The Drowning.” Rick commented.

                “My family,” he paused his ladling of the spicy fish dish, “Every one of them were on the island when it were flooded. Do you want to know the real comedy. The very bombs used to sink the island were manufactured and sold, not smuggled, sold out of Nexus City. The very nation that was condemning the violent takeover were profiting and providing the means for its success. So many fled Seffalon to go to the very nation that provided the means of destroying their very homes and families and--” he waggled the ladle at Kite, “And they profited off of it.”

                “I’m sorry to hear that,” Alice spoke tenderly putting a hand on his arm, “Nothing is as upstanding as it seems when government is involved.”

                He raised an eyebrow, “There are more than one of you in there?”

                Rick nodded, “there are two of us.”

                “huh, well, I had a friend with a similar issue, ended up killing himself. So don’t you go doing that after all I’ve done to rescue you.”

                “I won’t.” Rick promised.

                “Good enough I suppose.” He passed the plate to them, which they sat to eat.

                  “Why did ya escape?” the gnarled man questioned after they had finished eating.

                “A woman, she has held hope that I am alive after all these years, and yet I just got word that the police have convinced her that I am dead.”

                “That sounds about right,” the old man leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “well, you will need a new identity.”

                “And a way back to Nexus city.”

                “Will you require weapons?”

                “Do you have any?”

                “Yes,”

                “Then yes I will.” Rick paused, “Also would it be possible to keep an eye out for the ship Eternal Memory?”

                “I have a friend in the shipping records, so I will ask him to keep an eye out. But you will not be leaving for at least six months, till you are healed.”

                “I could not leave if I wanted to.” Rick laid back onto the bed. “If I am to be here for six months, what should I call you?”

                The gnarled man answered, “The names Bar’ek, though most people just call me Rek.”

                “Well Rek, my name is Rick no nickname, and my other personality is my wife, Alice.”

                “Now that sounds like a story I will have to hear at some point.”