David Sedaris
I sailed accompanied by Nyx, followed by my father and a ship full of the former enslaved, now sailors under the Silversea House banner, toward Wester Levante. I continued to map the sea floor but failed to find anything new. Faced with the daunting task of sailing the ship alone, I did not have time to make the map while holding the helm but reassigned it to a mental me to take care of within my mind. It would be something I needed to trace out into reality later.
Nyx was fascinated by everything new. Like a cat, she poked her head into everything not tightly sealed. Like a child, she climbed everything she could without fear of falling. She would spend her time flitting to and fro, from the deck to the mast, the rigging, then short little flights back to the deck again. However, there were a few places she liked to linger. The prow of the boat, the tip of the mast and my shoulder, her tail hooked around my neck to keep her steady. We leaned into the wind in an attempt to race ahead of my father.
I wondered who would tire faster, my mana or their sailors' stamina.
Our skills competed against one another, their advantage in the number of sailors and skills available to them. I might be able to fly faster, but I would not yet be able to fly all the way between the isles before running out of mana. I was working on a prototype glider that might help me to do that. More science and less magic might pave the way for daily flights between our isles, not only by me but by others as well.
Still, for longer distance journeys, the circumnavigation in particular, I would need my boat for as far as it would carry me. It would not only be the method but also my home. Allowing me to carry with me not only food, water and clothing but also shelter, safety and security. I might be more than the mere mortal I was in my former world, but I wasn’t immortal. At least not yet. I still needed to eat and sleep, and according to the maps the Bishop had provided, there might be a way to ice sail across the northern edge of Tramontana, which it was bordered by the endless Ice of the North.
Still, I wasn’t there yet. It was time to see if they could keep up with the rune-covered boat. I activated the rune for buoyancy. It was not strictly needed, but the rising of the hull meant there was less drag in the water. Next, I activated the rune for speed. As far as I could tell, this rune did not actually make an inanimate object move any quicker on its own but appeared to reduce friction somehow further so that items would slide quicker and faster. With the two runes combined, there was a noticeable jump in our speed. Nyx’s claws dug into the leather shoulder pad I wore to protect my skin as our boat leapt forward.
Next came the rune for wind. I hunkered down before activating it. The wind began to whistle in from behind, funnelled into the already full sails. The ship shot forward, beginning to bounce across the top of the waves rather than sailing through them. It was exhilarating. I just needed to hold on and not mess up as we leapt ahead of our followers. Their shouted exclamations vanished behind us, and though I knew they would now be racing to catch up, I focused solely on keeping the ship skipping across the waves in front of me rather than crashing and capsizing. We left them in our wake.
Wahoo!
Even Nyx seemed to elate in the sudden jump in speed. A shrill trill loosed from her mouth as I felt her excitement rise. Her wings tucked in tight to her body, she held on tight. It was hard to argue with her.
This was fun.
. . .
We made it to Wester Levante in record time. I doubted Namir could have made it any faster, even had he been able to sprint the entire distance on land. Still, slowing down and arriving at the dock was a relief. The juddering and jarring boat as we bounced over the waves had become draining in its own way. The constant focus required to make sure the boat did not capsize was equally exhausting. I had never managed to lose sight of my father’s ship completely. It never fell below the horizon but it would be a while before they arrived.
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In my Elvish embroidered finery and a black shimmering dragonling sitting on my shoulder, despite my size, it was clear I was someone of influence as I stepped down onto the dock to a warm welcome, ‘Vestis virum facit.’
“Greetings, my Lord. How may I help?” I was greeted by a man bowing. There were no questions regarding how much I might owe in taxes today.
“Nothing, thank you for asking; I’m merely here for a spot of lunch.” I smiled at the idea of visiting Wester Levante solely for some food. I would also consult with the mayor of the town before I left.
“I could accompany you to see to your needs.” He offered, keen to ingratiate himself in my company.
“No, if you would wait to let my father know where I went.” That would be most helpful. Thank you.” I replied. Good manners cost nothing, and I wished to cultivate the perfect public persona where and when possible. Still, I wanted to avoid unnecessary company. The lessons might have been a little boring in places and mainly common sense or decency, but that didn’t mean that I shouldn’t apply them.
I had made good time; it wasn’t even noon yet. I strolled forward along the dock toward the town. Confident and enjoying the win. I needed to give them enough time to catch up, at least before I departed again, or I would be hearing from all of my advisors in more detail than I cared to.
My clothing set me apart, and despite my short stature, I found it easy to move through the crowded streets, people noticing my presence and stepping aside for me. I was their Lord after all our property purchases. However, those who had not watched me grow up were a little more intimidated by myth and rumour than the reality of watching me grow up and run around the town. Though with my age and recent ascension, the local people knew me well enough even though they had never seen me. The dragonling sitting on my shoulder probably also helped to give me away. But that was a new development, so it hadn't entered the stories told just yet.
If I were ever going to travel a little more incognito, I would need a cloak to cover my finer clothing. Or rather, alternative travel clothes with a fine set packed away to pull out if I ever had to impress others with my actual political position. There were pros and cons to both positions. I would also have to have Nyx keep out of sight or fly on ahead. We would have to see what worked best.
I made my way back to the tavern we had eaten in before. I enjoyed the freedom from constant supervision, the advice that followed my every step, and the occasional criticism on improving each one. I was alone, and I liked it. Finding the space and solitude from criticism and demands relaxing and relieving.
“What will you be having, my lord?” I was asked as I sat down for my celebratory meal nervously by the owner of the establishment, who was warily watching the dragon sitting on my shoulder, staring intensely at all the food options available.
. . .
I was just finishing my meal when Arawn and Namir stormed up. Nyx lazily looked up, her stomach bulging from polishing off far more of the meals than myself.
"Gentleman," I started but never finished . . .
“You never managed to go that fast on the lagoon,” Arawn demanded on arriving stiffly at my table.
“Well,” I grinned. “The lagoon is only so big.” I countered. I had tested each and every rune before on the lagoon but never all of them at the same time, which meant that my speed had caught them by surprise. “I did wait, though, ready for the next leg of our trip?” I gleefully asked.
“They are unloading all extraneous supplies as we speak,” Namir replied. “Your father requests a head start before you sail to Little Wester.”
“If I must.” I nodded in understanding.
“And one of us will be accompanying you.” Arawn continued.
“That’s not what we agreed to,” I argued. “This was to be my solo sail!”
“That was before we saw the speeds you would get up to. If that thing capsizes, you will be dead before we reach you.” He argued back just as fiercely.
“I’m not so fragile any more; my stats will protect me.”
“You may not break on hitting the water, but that doesn’t mean you will retain consciousness. One of us will accompany you. “ He refused to back down as he referred to either himself or Namir.
“Fine,” I admitted defeat. I would not be getting past him, especially if I was attempting to sail away.
“Good.” He glared.
“I choose Namir.” I glared back. It was as much revenge as I could get. Namir would hate the journey, and Arawn would be frustrated he wouldn’t be accompanying me.
“Now, just a . . . ”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see the mayor before departing.” I stepped around him, restrained as he was by the fact that we were having this conversation in public. This would be as far as he could go with intimidation at changing my mind.
. . .
The meeting with the mayor was quickly over. Messages and reports flowing through Wester Levante soon to be heading back to Wester Ponente. As far as it looked, everything seemed to be expanding swimmingly, but the numbers and figures would be something to consider more carefully later once I had returned to work with Aleera and Lady Acacia.
It was enough to confirm the catspaw of a baron had not returned and was no longer making any moves toward our properties and businesses.
I strolled down to the dock to find the crew and my father already long gone. Only Namir was waiting alone on the pier.
“He said it was to give himself a fighting chance,” Namir said as he stood.
“Well, shall we put that to the test?”