A cold wind sprang up as the man in the orangutan suit skated off across the glassine ocean; yet its chill touched neither the beast in the cave nor the sailor aboard his craft, for such was not in their nature. Their steady gaze continued, looking out past the shoals, the great expanse of the sea, beyond beach, forest and bedroom into the city outside. With unblinking eyes they looked further and further, immutable bastions observing the paths taken and ignored. At times one or the other would speak, the words resounding, but heedlessly fate unreeled. At last, they turned away.

"There is a battle barge due in waters to the west," said the sailor offhandedly, stretching and ready for action. At his side a sword shifted restlessly, hungry for use. "Slaughter, grog and trinkets from beyond the reaches. A crew soon to be in need of a new captain. I shall sail a while." Beneath his easy smile and pleasant voice a dreadful hunger lurked, like a trolling shark in peaceful waters.

For the first time the beast's full form could be seen, and as the shadows fell away from it they revealed a man like and unlike the sailor. Grim he seemed on first glance, then not, then grimmer yet, a soldier by his bearing. "There is a battle to the north," he said, scenting the air, "and one after that again and again until the race ends. As it always has been - a need for sharp claws and a sharper mind. I shall battle a while."

Both grinned like boys, then nodded to the other.

"In the desert, then." The soldier walked into the cave and disappeared.

Taking some time to ready his vessel, the sailor spared one last glance beyond and shook his head softly. Wind filled the sails and soon he too was gone.

On the thin stretch of beach between the cave and the sea the pages of a book fluttered as its careworn cover lifted slightly. It had the appearance of a journal, or a ship's log, left behind, perhaps, as a memorandum.