The sky was bright and clear—in a beautiful shade of azure blue.
Hazy and see through were the clouds drifting slow. As much as the eyes could perceive, around and beyond rippled the deep blue ocean.
The lone cateraman boat was sailing sensuously in a braced speed.
The wind stirred Neva's loosened hair, a hand fixing the disarrayed dark strands flying over her face.
She was absorbed in the scenery, with half the mind drowning in a sunken rumination.
There was the whooshing sound made by the ocean waves, the occasional chirps of seagulls, the clicks of marine mammals which were thwarted by Neva's sons' amused quips ringing life in the heart of the ocean, whenever they discovered dolphins leaping out and diving in the sea in a pattern of a tilted crescent moon.
They were in the lounge area of the loftiest surface of the boat bounded by only a roof and glassed railings.
Rhean and Isaiah stood leaned on the railings, basking under the sun off the shade, peering, discovering the marvellous mysteries the ocean had to offer.
And her daughter was on her lap, wrapped up in her embrace and covered with a baby–pink plush couch blanket.
Inaya was sleeping now, after she had fed lunch and given medicines for fever and pain relief.
Earlier she had been crying, complaining about the ache in her bruised ribs, the discomfort from the sudden fever and for her dislike of the ocean; as the sea made her father sick, and she disliked her father being sick.
She missed home and wanted her papa.
But she could not even see him in these whole past two days even if he was in the same boat as them, for he was never out of his cabin.
And Neva had also said so; as for her father to heal faster, he should get as much as undisturbed rest as possible.
The twins often asked about Ishmael.
Neva in repeating the same excuse for countless of times; reasoning an illness for Ishmael being kept shut in his cabin eventually mastered the lie.
Neva looked down at Inaya and smoothened over the strands of wavy hair veiling her forehead, escaping the two buns of pigtails on either side of the little head.
She frowned at the sensation of Inaya's skin. She placed a hand on Inaya's forehead and felt the heat again.
Neva breathed in shakily as she felt the rapid beating pulse on Inaya's neck.
Her pretty little face flushed and breathing fast and shorter.
"Has the fever improved?"
Neva turned and saw Rhett walking up to them.
She shook her head and glanced down at her daughter. "I'm afraid it's worsened."
Rhett placed his palm on Inaya's forehead. Her burning skin making him frown.
"She's cold. I'm taking her to the cabin." She said and adjusted the blanket over Inaya. Goosebumps appeared on the delicate skin.
It was getting chilly and the wind was harsher as the evening approached.
Inaya was only in a light and loose cotton frock under the quilt as she felt hotter before.
"Let me carry her." Rhett said and lowered himself. Neva carefully aided him to shift Inaya in his arms.
Rhett slowly straightened, cradling Inaya's limp body.
Neva stood up along and covered the blanket over Inaya, and Rhett helped amend the comfort around the child.
Neva then called the boys distracted by the ocean to come downstairs with them. They reluctantly agreed.
As they descended the stairs, Isaiah made a fuss about longing for the ocean already.
Now, how would Neva convince him without the fright eclipsing the poor little heart—that they were not here for a vacation.
But a voyage for a greater cause; of a holy mission, of healing, and the promises of blessings.
"I have yet to see the pink dolphins!" Isaiah whined.
"They aren't found in an ocean." Neva replied.
"But why?!"
The lounge area led down to the commodious zone of cockpit where Ace currently was seated on the couch, occupied with a laptop placed on the table.
The boat sailing steadily on an auto–pilot.
Ace looked up at them. "Is everything alright?"
"About alright." Neva said. "Just Inaya's fever."
"Watch after the kids." Rhett said, sliding the glassed door with a free hand that opened to the kitchen and the dining quarter.
"Uh–sure," Ace but visibly frowned looking at the two boys burdened on him.
Neva though still offered him a grateful smile.
Then she turned to a grumpy looking Isaiah and Rhean, who was awfully silent.
"Be nice and don't cause trouble. I'll be right back." She said and followed Rhett out the door.
.
.
.
Rhett settled a slightly squirming Inaya on the bed. He drew over the blanket on her and then the other thicker quilt rolled on the side of the bed.
"Mumma," Inaya weakly murmered.
"I'm right here." Neva sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand.
"Rhett, do we have more quilts?" Neva secured the quilt firmer. Inaya was still shivering, her hand ice–cold in Neva's hold.
"Yes. I'll go get more." Rhett said and left the cabin.
Neva sighed and caressed Inaya's head. She thought she deligently followed the doctor's instructions. Inaya was well fed and rested.
Her medications were given on time, but she had suddenly developed a fever, and Neva feared an underlying issue complicating due to the bruises in her ribs.
Before the start of all this, Inaya had barely recovered from a flu.
And now they were in the middle of nowhere if she was furthermore unfortunate with not a sight of an Island, any facilities nearby.
And so anxious doubts began circulating her mind again.
A worry peeling off a wound of another.
She did not even know; how was she to give life to this purpose?
What would the first tread be?
Rhett soon ambled in with two thick quilts.
Neva stood up and grabbed one.
She then unfurled the quilt and draped over Inaya.
"It should be enough." She said and placed the other folded one on the foot of the bed.
Neva went back to sit on her previous space, and Rhett sat beside.
He placed a reassuring hand on her thigh.
Neva met his eyes.
"It's been three days. When are we going to get there?"
"Ace send out a drone this morning.
There's an Island with human habitation around 120 nautical miles away. It'd probably take another five or six hours."
Neva's eyes flickered. "Then we'll be there by tonight?"
"Yes."
"Could it be Miraeth?"
"Hopefully." He paused for a moment. His gaze unfocused.
"What is it?"
"Before Ace could find out more, the drone malfunctioned and we lost trace of it." He removed his hand and looked at her earnestly.
"Are you sure you want to do this? If you have a change of mind, we still have enough fuel to reverse the boat."
"I'm sure." Neva said solemnly and turned to check on her daughter.
She was sleeping better now.
The two quilts with the lighter couch blanket were warm enough to fight off cold and the shivers.
She looked at him and smiled.
"I know you're filled with uncertainties and dread the unknown. And I do have my own horrors about how am I going to face all of it. But I chose this.
I chose to do this with you. It was never me alone who was chosen. But all of us. And you. I'm complete with you."
"And I have faith that we won't be betrayed anymore."
Rhett revealed a small smile and tucked loosened strands of hair in her ear. "I don't doubt you—or your God."
He cupped her cheek. "I'm just afraid I'll fail you again."
He faintly shook his head. "I can't—" he swallowed.
"I won't be able to bear losing you again." He looked at her witheringly.
The rare murk of fragility evident in his eyes.
Neva smiled softly. "You won't. I know you won't." She held his hand and brought it to her heart.
To her living heart beating strongly and in an unhurried pace.
Rhett leaned and kissed her forehead.
"No matter what. Never be off my eyes." He whispered, urgent and pleading.
"Never leave my side."
"I won't." Neva replied and lightly squeezed his hand.
"If you regain your memories, always remember; the past is only a dried pasture in winter. A trial that wewill overcome."
"For the blooming future ahead in our spring garden." She concluded his verse.
"Yes." He smiled assuredly and wrapped her up in his embrace.