Tirad checks the lock of the fugitives’ cabin. Lealy must have hidden the key after locking them in. But her cabin door is half open. It is not the first time that she has fallen asleep before closing her door and turning off the oil lamp. She must have been very tired. Whenever Tirad passes by her cabin and sees her passed out like this, he would take care of her, turn off her lamp and shut the door. But there is no light coming out of her room tonight. Perhaps the lamp has run out of oil. He could just close the door and continue on his way. But he stands in the doorway, turns on his torch and shines it through the door opening. He can see Lealy’s body now, asleep on her bed with his back towards him. She doesn’t have a blanket covering her body. But she never sleeps naked. Hurmaz had ordered her to keep her clothes on during the night since her help was needed at all times even overnight: children could get sick or injured or an accident might happen… Tirad lowers the torch so that the light slowly touches Lealy’s shoulder. She rolls on her plump bottom to a supine position as if someone has actually tapped her on her shoulder. Her ample breasts spread over her bust. Tirad moves the torch on top of her breasts to see the tip of her nipples that knobs out from her thin loincloth. Her mouth is half opened. He wants to go in and lie beside her, to put his head on Lealy’s plump and muscular arms; to embrace her and kiss her pout lips, chapped by the scorching sun of the dry season; to roll his fingertips around her open mouth, moving it from her upper pink lip to the lower, licking and kissing them over and over again. He knows she wouldn’t mind.

Before he was promoted to a third-tier disciple, he would sometimes go to Lealy’s cabin. He would just lie down beside her and when Lealy fell asleep, he would slowly get out of her bed and go back to his cabin. It was something he did since his childhood. Lealy’s arms were like the arms of a mother or a sister that he never had and would take away all the pains that Tirad felt in his body and soul. The first time he had taken refuge in Lealy’s arms, he was nearly eight years old. The war between the followers of the Saviour and the pre-rain religionist had extended to the Saviour Ship. Outside of the Ship and on the harbour, the Saviour soldiers, disciples and the Island residents were fighting the soldiers of the enemy. They were the remaining soldiers out of the two hundred warriors that had been defeated on their way to the Saviour Island. Hurmaz’s soldiers had destroyed most of their forces but somehow four of their boats had survived and attacked the island, eager to bring down the Saviour Ship. The loud noises of the soldiers screaming, running, fighting and falling had spread through the corridors and cabins. The ship trembled and quivered the little Tirad with fright. He was too young to understand what death was. His only experience in the matter was seeing dead fish and birds.