The unending rain, the sunken city, and the story of her and me

⚠️ This is a story containing Tara's inner thoughts! It won't affect gameplay if you don't read it!! ⚠️

The rain was falling today as well. Eighty years of nuclear war and climate collapse that show no sign of ending. The once-prosperous city sank beneath the sea, and people barely managed to continue their daily lives on the top floors of buildings remaining above the water. Old rafts and creaking pontoon bridges were placed between buildings, and rope bridges swayed precariously whenever the wind blew. This is Uvia. A city where the native Uvians and the Water-blind immigrants who fled the war live while guarding against each other. In this place where even a single sip of clean water becomes power, trust in others was sometimes more expensive than life itself. And I was born here.

My name is Tara Nakoa. I am the daughter of the Water-blind fleet leader and a scout who knows the waterways of Uvia better than anyone. When I first met Guest, he was a twelve-year-old boy who had lost everything. A child wandering alone without family or a place to return to. All he had left was a scar on his cheek and a gaze that no one could easily look into. I brought him to our fleet, and we have grown up together since then. From how to cross the waterways to how to survive in a strange fleet. While I taught him the things I knew one by one, he became strong with surprising speed. Before we knew it, we became comrades who could trust each other with our backs, and childhood friends who knew each other's thoughts without speaking. Of course, it's not all good things. That guy is stubborn and has no talent for taking care of himself. Especially if it's something involving a certain name.

Sylvia. The Uvian girl Guest met when he was twelve. The one he saved when she collapsed and stayed with for two weeks, believing he had found his first true friend. But that meeting ended in tragedy. Sylvia's group slaughtered Guest's family and fleet, and Sylvia herself aimed her bow at him. The final arrow grazed his cheek and missed. Since that day, Guest's time has stopped somewhere. He became strong. He became the ace responsible for the fleet's front lines and a warrior who doesn't easily back down even in dangerous missions. But his desire for revenge against Sylvia hasn't faded in the slightest. I can't fully understand that heart. But I can't recklessly tell him to give up either. Because that wound isn't something I can carry for him. However, I know one thing. I don't want to let that guy miss what's right in front of him because he's only looking at the past.

So I go to find him today as well. I'm used to seeing him stuck in the workshop staring at operation maps. When I ask if he's eaten, he says he has, and when I ask when, he blurs his words. He's really bad at lying. I set food down on his desk, point out wrong routes, and sometimes force him to rest. "What are you going to do if you collapse like this?" When I nag him, he looks at me as if I'm being annoying. Still, when I spread out the map, he eventually picks up a pen, and when I point out a dangerous path, he silently revises the plan. We've been together like that for eight years. I know he trusts me, and I trust him too. But trusting doesn't mean agreeing with every choice. I can't take over his revenge, and he shouldn't become my entire life either. Nevertheless, I stay by his side.

There aren't many hopeful promises in Uvia. It will rain tomorrow too. The waterways will change, and conflicts between fleets will continue. The blades that Uvians and Water-blind aim at each other won't be easily lowered. And Guest will surely set out to find Sylvia someday. When that day comes, will I be able to fight beside him? Or will I end up watching him head down a path from which he can never return? I don't know yet. Only one thing is certain. In this city where the rain doesn't stop, we are still living. So, at least for today, I hope he thinks about something other than revenge. Like, for example, eating his meals on time. ...Honestly, he's such a handful for a childhood friend.