Poplar St. (OFFICIAL WATTPAD UPLOAD)

The Lovers

The boat wasn't very large. It was a tiny, shabby little fishing vessel with multiple broken windows and a dick spray-painted on the port side of the hull, and Eret was having a terrible time.

"Damn it, I should've known this would go badly when Velvet started yelling about getting pulled over by the boat police," they mumbled, holding onto the table in the main cabin with an iron grip as the boat hit another swell; the water was just choppy enough to be irritating rather than dangerous. "Typical. Just typical."

Ranboo, who was curled into a terrified ball on the other bench, whimpered. Tubbo awkwardly patted his arm, even though he seemed to be about three seconds from puking his guts out.

"Good news!" Velvet remarked, spinning around in the captain's chair. "We'll reach our destination in... uuuuuuuuuuh... four to five hours!"

There was a collective groan as he set the ship on auto-pilot, hopped up out of his seat, and headed out onto the stern. Phil heaved a sigh and pulled a packet of dramamine out of his weird little man purse, handing it to Tubbo, whose face was green as a frog's. Foolish, who was polymorphed into his human form, had somehow dozed off on Eret's shoulder.

"Damn it," they muttered. Of all days to wear their nice skirt, this was probably the worst.

They'd never liked boats to begin with. Something about being out at sea, standing on the deck of a ship as it rolled over the waves was disconcerting and familiar, and it made their skin crawl.

The metal of the dagger was cold against their thigh.

Glancing aside, Eret pulled the anelace out from under their skirt. They'd swiped it off the desk while Velvet's back was turned, and the second their hand had closed around the hilt, it had felt like grabbing an icicle. The blade, made of fine silver, was polished to a mirror-like finish.

The blade felt burningly familiar.

They could feel Phil gazing at them in curiosity. Either that, or icy suspicion.

"The last time you held that blade, you nearly killed me," he suddenly remarked.

Eret blinked. "What?"

Foolish had mentioned previously that they'd come across Phil before. Eret didn't remember ever trying to kill him, though, but then again, they couldn't remember much of anything.

Phil chuckled wryly, and lifted his tunic a bit. On the pale flesh of his stomach, barely clear of his vitals, there was a nasty scar the size of an apple. "It's called Katoptris, if I remember correctly. Crafted long ago by the great Herobrine as a weapon to slay monsters even the gods couldn't kill. My mate Techno would know. He's big on the whole ancient weapons and artifacts thing."

Eret grimaced. "Oh. I didn't know."

"You're more dangerous than you think you are," Phil said. "Aren't you wondering how you did it? Back in the tavern. How you stopped a Totem God and a man touched by chaos from killing each other."