As dawn unfurled its light over Yonder, Alice settled into the dining room, enveloped in a cocoon of tranquility. Steam from the hot springs intertwined with the morning fog, casting the world outside the windows into a realm of ethereal beauty. She cradled a cup of coffee, its warmth seeping into her palms, the cream rich and earthy on her tongue, complementing the savory crispness of the bacon she savored slowly. This moment of peace, a stark contrast to the dangers they had faced, allowed her a breath of serene reflection. Yonder, with its mystical landscapes and enigmatic aura, unfurled before her in a tapestry of wonder and mystery, each sip of her morning brew anchoring her deeper into its magical reality.

Marsh joined her, sliding a plate of his own onto the table with a soft clink. "Sleep well?" he inquired, the warm light of morning softening the lines on his face. His eyes, still showing signs of worry from the night before, held a spark of hope at the prospect of the day's plan.

Alice nodded, still somewhat dazed by the lush reality of Yonder contrasting so sharply with the dangers they faced. She knew the words falling out were lies, but she wouldn’t dare burden her host any more than she was.

"Yeah, better than I have in a while, actually. This place..." She gestured vaguely towards the windows, the mists outside painting a serene yet otherworldly landscape. "It's like something out of a dream."

Marsh smiled, a tad melancholically. "It has that effect on people. Makes it all the harder to remember the world outside isn't always so kind." He took a sip from his cup, the steam fogging his glasses briefly before he continued, “Speaking of the outside world, are you still certain about what I’ve asked of you?”

Alice set her cup down, the weight of responsibility settling in. "About Viv, right? It's a lot to take in, but if there's a chance we can help her, I don't see how I could say no." Her determination was clear, fueled by the injustices Marsh described and her own burgeoning sense of purpose in Yonder.

Marsh's face brightened, gratitude evident in his expression. "Thank you, Alice. I can't tell you how much this means to me. And about your training—"

"I'm ready to start whenever you are," Alice interrupted, eagerness tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I know I have a lot to learn, especially if we're going up against someone like Virgil."

Marsh nodded, finishing his breakfast before standing. "We'll begin after you eat. The better you can control your powers, the better equipped you'll be to face whatever comes next. And not just for Viv's sake," he added, a solemn note in his tone, "but for your own journey ahead."

As they cleared the table together, the plan for the day started to take shape. Training with Marsh, then preparations for their journey to Skycrest. Alice felt a mix of excitement and fear at the thought of what lay ahead. The stakes were higher now, not just for her own destiny, but for the lives intertwined with hers.

~~~

As the morning sun ascended, casting its golden rays across the sky, Alice lingered by the rocky brink of a steaming spring. Despite the allure of the inviting waters promising relaxation, she recognized the weight of their quest precluded such luxuries. Marsh navigated the area with ease, exchanging pleasantries with the guests, many of whom basked in the serenity of the hot springs. Alice observed the majority were merfolk, an insight aligning with the locale's natural appeal to their kind.

Cole had shared tales of the merfolk's transition from the depths to terra firma, painting a picture of beings who, driven by an inherent wanderlust, ventured from the sea to inhabit lakes and rivers. Yet, he also spoke of their eccentricity, often rendering them outsiders in many communities. Alice felt a pang of empathy for them, recognizing a semblance of her own displacement in Yonder, albeit under different circumstances.

As she pondered over Cole's insights, he emerged, balancing a hearty meal on a plate, his presence momentarily distracting her. Shedding his attire to partake in the spring's embrace, he revealed a canvas of tattoos and scars – each a silent testament to his past encounters and battles. The intricate patterns, devoid of any language known to Alice, spoke volumes of a culture steeped in tradition and the personal history of a man marked by war. Alice, caught off guard by his sudden disrobing, redirected her gaze, yet not without noting the intricate designs that seemed to encapsulate the essence of demonkind's aesthetic preferences.

Alice's previous glimpses of Cole's shirtless form had been under circumstances far less tranquil, her focus then limited to the pragmatic concerns of their survival rather than the intricate details etched across his skin. The battlefield provided neither the time nor the security to contemplate anything beyond the immediate—hair, skin, the rush of adrenaline. Now, in the relative calm of the hot springs, with the threat momentarily at bay, she allowed herself a moment to observe the details she had previously overlooked. The scars and tattoos were not just marks of battle; they were stories, each line and shape a chapter of survival, loss, or triumph. This realization offered her a deeper understanding not only of Cole's past but of the complex fabric of Yonder itself. In this serene moment, away from the chaos of their journey, Alice saw Cole not just as a warrior but as a person shaped by his experiences, carrying his history on his skin for the world to see.

Marsh interrupted her thoughts, approaching from the group of mer he had been mingling with. His eyes followed Alice's gaze through his glasses, a smirk playing on his lips as he spoke. "I've always admired the demon form. It seems effortless for some of them to look like that."

Alice shuddered, feeling embarrassed by Marsh's observation.

"You know, a demon's tattoos show their whole life and their purpose. Once they commit to a cause, they display it with pride..." he continued.

Alice listened quietly, allowing her eyes to scrutinize the tattoos with new perspective. They appeared tribal in nature, but now she noticed a pattern - bands on his wrists, biceps, and around his neck.

"A shackled demon - he's a military man," Marsh explained, gesturing for Alice to follow him. She followed, tearing her eyes away from Cole momentarily before disappearing into a small building south of the pools.

"Is that how you know they're military?" Alice inquired as she stepped into the small room. Mats covered the floor, while assorted trinkets lined the shelves on the walls, filling Alice with delight. However, Marsh's hardened look brought her back to reality.

"Yes, though it's exceptionally rare to see them on their own," he said. "That usually means they're keeping a low profile... which is foolish since you can pick them out in a crowd easily."

Alice frowned, not enjoying the speak of Cole’s otherness, no matter how normal it may be in this realm. Though, as Marsh offered the idea of her companion’s covert potential, she remembered their interactions in Chillmoor - his horns, small and convenient, were concealed, and his face remained under a mask. All things she considered to protect him in the cold that could very well mean concealment. Even the tattoos, which were a well-known tell of his loyalties, were hidden under heavy garments and sleeves, which Alice considered to be a normal attire in such a cold climate.

This revelation made her realize just how much she truly didn’t know about this realm and its customs, though this sudden information didn’t waver her trust in Cole. They’ve traveled thus for together, what harm could he possibly make?

“Ah, but let’s not get caught up on these things now. You’re here to train and I am here to teach,” Marsh said, breaking through her thoughts. “I do not possess Mind magic, but there are exceptionally simple ways to train it.”

With a wave of his hand, the room’s aura shifts, and Alice feels a sense of isolation. The sounds outside of people and nature are suddenly silenced. Alice looks curiously to Marsh, who removes his necklace and sets it aside.

“Lesson one, which I’ve already alluded to - Every time you engage your magic, the gods can sense it. It’s why Eternus was able to wipe out the majority of Mind practicioners… any and all traces were highly scrutinized,” Marsh said. “You tried to look into my mind before, but my amulet deflected it. Now, I will attempt to deny access without it. You will find as more people know of your existence, more will be guarded, and you may not find it easy to find what you need.”

Marsh's words hovered in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken history. As the room fell into a hushed silence, Alice focused, her gaze sharpening as she prepared herself for the challenge. Marsh's expression was one of gentle encouragement, his stance open, inviting her to try again.

"Focus not on the force of entry but on the subtlety of presence," Marsh instructed, his voice a calm anchor in the sea of concentration Alice found herself adrift in.

As Alice reached out with her mind, she brushed against the outer edges of Marsh's consciousness. This time, instead of a barricade, she encountered a soft resistance, like the surface of a lake resisting the touch of the wind. She pushed gently, and images began to flicker in her mind's eye—snapshots of Marsh's life, his experiences, the love for his daughter Viv shining like a beacon, and the deep-seated fear of losing her to the unforgiving grip of Eternus.

“Remarkable,” Marsh muttered through the mental link. “I thought I resisted enough, perhaps I was wrong…”

Marsh grounded himself further, taking a deep breath as his feet planted firmly in the mats. He concentrated, Alice feeling the push of his will like a typhoon, crashing waves of determination forcing Alice from the mental link. Silence of the room took over once again as she stood in disbelief. Certainly Alice felt resistance from the Angels earlier, but they were unsuccessful in keeping her out. Perhaps it was the frenzy they were in, perhaps a lack of will in the face of her power. Regardless, Alice entered Marsh’s mind again, struggling past the defense of his thoughts, and grabbed on to the first thought she found.

The memory enveloped her in the warmth of a golden sunset, where Marsh and his daughter Viv meandered along a bustling boardwalk. The air was thick with the scent of sea salt and the melody of distant laughter. Viv, her eyes wide with wonder and joy, was a beacon of innocence and happiness. She danced ahead, pulling Marsh by the hand towards the promise of adventure that each stall and attraction held. For Marsh, it was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy—a stark contrast to the burdens he carried. His laughter, free and hearty, merged with Viv's, creating a bubble of bliss that, for a fleeting moment, made the world's shadows recede.

Forced from the memory, Alice hesitated, feeling Marsh's distress despite his attempt to conceal it. His furrowed brows and trembling words belied his facade of sadness. "No, continue. If I were an enemy, you would need a break like this," he insisted.

Respectful of his fragile state, Alice nodded, her own uncertainty mirroring his hesitation. She gently prodded deeper into his memories, hoping to uncover something uplifting. In the next recollection, the atmosphere shifted to a serene, moonlit night. Here, Marsh was not a father or a businessman, but a man deeply in love. He and another mer, Leith, shared a tender dance on a secluded beach, the soft lull of the waves serving as their orchestra and the moonlight casting a romantic glow. Leith's eyes conveyed profound affection and understanding, offering solace amidst the chaos of their lives. Their movements were a silent vow of support and companionship, transcending the need for words.

Hoping the memory would bring solace to her teacher, Alice looked to Marsh, only to realize her attempts worsened his distress. His thumb traced over a ring of bone and seaglass, lost in reminiscence. Seeing him in such pain weighed heavily on Alice's heart, the unintended hurt burdening them both. In a moment of desperation, Alice delved deeper into Marsh's trauma, determined to offer him some relief. She conjured visions of his daughter, Viv, returning to him, her smile and laughter brightening his spirits. Turning to Leith, whose fate remained unknown to her, Alice projected a similar scene of love and compassion. Though the visions were direct, they left room for Marsh to fill in the details himself.

As Marsh wiped his eyes, a chuckle escaped him, his grief having brought him to his knees.

"Amazing. Transcribing a memory. Not unheard of but interesting to experience," he remarked, standing once more.

His relief mirrored in Alice's own, she offered him a comforting hug. They shared a moment before Alice's curiosity got the better of her. "Who was Leith? I know I kinda winged that for him, but-"

"He's been dead for three years, dear," Marsh interrupted bluntly. "But… I will see him again one day. In the afterlife, when I cross the River of Styx…"

Alice tightened her hug, letting Marsh's grief flow freely. However, their moment of solace was abruptly shattered by the door slamming open, startling them both. Marsh pulled away, his finned ears twitching with alarm, while Alice, facing away from the entrance, caught only a glimpse of his expression—confusion melting into horror.

From the doorway, Elana's voice pierced the room, her tone ragged with desperation that sent a shiver down Alice's spine.

"Angels," Elana huffed, her words hanging heavy in the air.