She awoke to being hit by a spray of the salty sea. Right away she rolled into her side as the ship began to rock, her eyes greeted by the gray skies. So this was what the trials chose for her–a life-or-death situation that she disliked the most. She knew what this challenge was, she had eavesdropped on several people who returned from completing what challenges they were given. The difficulty here wouldn't be figuring out how to survive, but who she had been sent with. People moved around her as she got up, hushed voices whispering loudly behind gloved hands and folding fans. There was music coming from a raised stage in the back where a dozen musicians were playing, glowing glass lights dangling from garlands overhead. There was laughter and the clinking of glasses followed by idle chatter. It was a beautiful luxury barge, no–a caravel actually. The vessel was so large that when you leaned over the rail you could see another deck full of patrons below. Counting how many people were aboard would be impossible using aura sight. 

She was under-dressed for the atmosphere, but wearing fancy clothes would be pointless once the main event of the trial kicked in. As a slight chill crept into the air, Shiloh knew it would soon be coming. This ship was going to sink; that was unavoidable. The devastation would be huge, and it would be beyond saving. It only took minutes for a small ship to go under, a luxury tiered-caravel wouldn't fare any better. As she wondered where the other person who had entered was, she felt something dig into her wrist. Around her left hand was a crimson thread, faint at first but then very much corporeal. No one else on the ship seemed to notice it as the red thread stretched across the deck to parts unknown. The one who was on the other end wasn't someone she personally wanted to see, but someone she needed to keep close watch over. Once he discovered her presence here, the real test of the trial would arise. The only thing harder than working with strangers was working with someone you hated. In this case, the hate was one-sided.

He was her Avatar, but Shiloh could say that only one other person probably knew that. This was their bond–an unbreakable chain between a god and their proxy. A bond that would only end when she willed it. Even in death the connection would persist, with the loose end hanging suspended. A curse more than a blessing. As the temperature grew colder, the other guests continued to go about their business unaware of the impending doom slated for the Nightshade. Picking up the pace, Shiloh began to search for possible tools and resources she could use once the ship started to fall apart. She didn't know how and when it would be shattered, so she had to memorize the locations of everything that was useful in case there was no way to go back. "There better be some lifeboats on this ship, otherwise this will be much more difficult."