X-Setting Sail

The festivities had mostly ended. The broken moon was well in the sky, and the Fens slowly left to go to sleep, one by one, leaving only a few trees to clean up after the daily mess of the night gathering.

Even Agar and Vania had left to spend the night with local family members atop the tree's hovels.

The humans had been given permission to set up four tents on the clearing's floor, carefully watched and guarded by a few Fen hunters.

It was now the time they all dreaded: the time for the fisherman's council.

Under the open sky and the moonlight, the two mariners guarding the entrance to the queen's tent let each of the expedition captains enter it.

Captain Gilbert entered. Then it was Stein the scribe, with the last ones to enter being the bard and his sailor escort, Henrik.

The three mariners the queen had sent had most likely already arrived at the human camp by the coast and captains Mill and Arthur patiently waited for the return of the queen and her escorts.

There was a small table propped up for the queen, close to a makeshift sailor’s hammock bed and a chest.

As the captains and other expedition leaders joined, they sat on various stumps and rocks that had been repurposed to serve as chairs. As Miria welcomed them, she sat in a simple wooden chair that had been brought with the party.

“Welcome, gentleman. We have a lot to discuss,” Miria said with a tired sigh. Around her, the rest of the captains struggled to keep awake, except for the bard, who seemed rather used to staying awake during the long hours of the night.

“Yer Highness, with all respect. Must we really discuss this now? ‘Tis a bit late innit?” Henrik asked, trying to be as respectful as he could before the monarch.

“I am afraid we must discuss things now. We must take advantage of it while it's fresh in our minds, and because we must make the most of our time. I understand you are all considerably tired,” The queen said as many of those present began to yawn. “But I assure you, this won't take the entire night to solve.

We must merely decide what our next step should be, after taking into consideration all that we have seen.” She looked to Gilbert and Stein. “All that we have done.” She gazed at Rorrick, ”And all that we have listened to.” The queen finished, leaning forward in her chair. “Well then. Let's begin the conclave.”

“So, we have arrived in a land that is not hostile to us or our cause—at least not yet. A country ruled by a dying monarch with no power, who has asked us to wage war and remove another power we know nothing about. And now we also find ourselves being a driving force and the focus of the many groups and factions that vie for power in this land. By the goddess, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Miria said as she sat back down once she had given the initial statement.

The queen leaned forward in her chair and asked her loyal party, “So, what shall we do, gentlemen?”

None of the captains seemed eager to give a proper answer yet, but the silence was quickly broken by the daring and energy-filled bard.

“I say we help the Fens. They have been nothing but welcoming to us. Least we can do is repay their hospitality.”

“Of course you would say that,” Captain Gilbert retorted. “Although, Mr. Rorrick does have a point in repaying the ‘kindness’ of these trees. We can't simply put our blind faith and trust in them! Your Highness, you more than anyone else here know that nothing in this world is done out of pure kindness.”

Gilbert continued “They are merely helping us because they want us to help them . Who knows how they will act toward us when we solve their issues.”

The queen pondered in silence the words of her underlings, and then turned to the scribe of the lost Jameston. “What about you, Mr. Stein? Do you feel the same way?”

Stein lowered his head in both fear and thought, and as he scratched the small stubble in his chin, he chose his words carefully. “Hmm . . . I think there is still quite a lot more that we don't know about. Not just the forest folk, but also these Islands. A few things are certain though. The felq is dying and soon a new leader from a school of nature will be chosen. If you were to ask me, I would say the best course of action would be to deal with the sun warriors and the cacti people.”

Everyone in the tent looked curiously to the scribe, and wondered what he meant by “dealing with them”.

“Ya’ mean ta betray the Fens and Spiked Ones?” Henrik the sailor asked in a disgusted tone.

“Think about it!” Stein declared as he stood up and passionately tried to make his case to the queen. Your Highness! These people have a system of governance and a way of life that is incompatible with ours. Their lifestyle is chaos and madness! In a year they will have a group of trees helping us and cooperating. The next year they will shun us, and maybe even go to war for our mere act of making ships!

“They thrive and gladly embrace servitude! Slavery! These “duels”—their whole basis of society—are abhorrent, immoral, and completely incompatible with ours.” As the Scribe laid out his thoughts, he noticed that slowly, Gilbert began to nod in agreement with him, while the bard and his sailor seemed furious over the scribe’s misunderstanding of Fen society.

The queen, however, remained neutral and pensive as the scribe continued. “If you ask me, Your Highness, we should not ally with the Fens, or anyone else for that matter. We are refugees, adrift in the sea away from home, and we cannot count on anyone to help but ourselves.

“I say we ignore the plight of the Fens, and instead of entangling ourselves in their issues, we sail toward their Mid Island—the one that serves as a boundary between their own people and the sun warriors.” Gilbert raised his hand, showing himself to be fully behind Stein as he finished.

“On that Island, we will build up a great navy, reorganize, and then finally return to our homes where we will retake our kingdom from the Blacksmith,” Stein continued. “We will have no dealings with the Fens or anyone else; a pure, strategic, and pragmatic isolation while we are stranded here.” When the scribe finished and sat back down, he was met with applause and cheer from the first-captain.

“Aye, finally you bookish people have a good idea. I support scribe's Stein's course!” Gilbert raised his hand in support of Stein.

“Disgusting . . . a learned man such as yourself should know better,” Rorrick said as he and Henrik looked at the isolationist scribe with contempt.

One person’s vote still remained though—one that was critical to pass the scribes proposal.

The queen continued, almost motionless, mulling over everything she had heard.

Suddenly, she once more leaned forward, and with her hands supporting the weight of her head, she questioned her council in a devious tone. “What if we make the Fen alliance a more permanent one?”

The council looked at the queen with a confused, but also curious spirit. And as the light of the campfire eerily glowed upon the monarch, she elaborated.

“As you said, Mr. Stein, the Fens are chaotic. But there might be a way to reign in that chaos, and keep them as our eternal, grateful friends.”

“Well I do not wish to doubt you, Your Highness. Tell me, what would such a way be?” the Scribe questioned in a cynical tone.

“The schools rule the Alq Fen. Now, I don't doubt your pragmatism, Mr. Stein. But truth is, if we really wish to return home, we need help.

I would be the first to exalt our nation and people's abilities of course. But we must not delude ourselves. We are not wizards. Turning on potential allies now is an extremely dangerous prospect,” the queen proclaimed, as the first captain glanced uncertainly between the scribe and their ruler.

“I suggest we further investigate this request from the Felq. Deal with it appropriately, so we gain the Fenians’ and the Spiked Ones’ favor. And then, finally, we will begin a plan to make the Fenians’ loyalty a more permanent one.”

Rorrick looked with concern as he heard the potential royal plot, and wondered how his old friend had changed so much since the last time he saw her. “Miria, what are you planning?”

“Oh, don't worry, Rorrick. I'm sure you are gonna quite like my suggestion,” the queen said with a burning ambition in her step. “The Fens follow the schools, first and foremost. And of all of the schools, one of them holds us in extreme regard.”

“The Sea Dreamers? Agar and Vania's school?” Gilbert said as he began to piece together the queen's Idea.

“Precisely, Gilbert!” Miria then turned toward the bard, and as she got closer, she pleaded with him. “Rorrick, you are an essential part of this plan. The Fens like you; you are a novelty to them, and for a time you will have their complete support and curiosity.”

“Uh-huh, well what do you want me to do exactly?” The bard asked, still unsure of his role in the royal plot.

“Rorrick . . . I need you to become the felq, the leader of the forest folk.”

“Uh. What?!” Rorrick exclaimed as him and everyone else in the council were taken by complete surprise.

“You can't be serious, Your Highness!” Gilbert proclaimed.

“I am! Think about it! Rorrick, you are the perfect candidate—not just to become the leader of the Sea Dreamers, but also to serve as the first human felq!

You will bridge the gap and bring the two species closer. And by breaking that barrier you can unite the races and make sure that humans will be seen as equals to the Fens for eternity,” the queen said with an almost maddened stare at her old lover.

Rorrick was taken aback, both by the queen's suggestion, but also the faith she was putting in his ability to rule. “Wow. Well, while I am really flattered you would think I would be a good leader,” he said. “I . . . c'mon, you can't expect me to become the felq just like that. We have barely just arrived here. I can't win the hearts of a people I still barely know. I'm a good bard, but I'm not that good.”

“This is madness!” Stein burst out.

“We live in odd times, Mr. Stein, and odd times require odd solutions,” the queen said before turning back to Rorrick.”You don't need to become a felq right away, Rorrick. Either way, I doubt you would be able to do it,” she admitted, and Rorrick felt his confidence shrinking at her honesty.

“But you can still act as the representative of the Sea Dreamers, and us of course! Build good relations with the other schools and factions in the Alq Fen, and when you are strong enough, strike at the next felq! Have a music duel, and when you win, take power.”

The bard looked up, and with a hopeful tone he asked, “And what am I meant to do after I become the felq?”

The queen smiled, her green eyes resting on his. “Then we will work together to make this place a better world for everyone. Just like in the old times,” Miria said, as she finished with a discreet wink to her old companion.

Rorrick smiled at the prospect. “Another adventure, just like old times, eh? Felq and queen . . . I like the sound of that. I'm in. you have my full support!” Rorrick proclaimed and raised his hand in the air.

The sailor Henrik closely followed the lead of the bard. “Aye, I like tis land. I'll glad ta help Captain Rorrick make tis a home for all us loyal sailors!” he declared.

The queen turned to the first captain and the scribe who still refused to raise their hands in support—the scribe more than the captain.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. But I can't in good faith, as a captain, support that plot. Intrigue and schemes are not our way of life.” Gilbert revealed with a saddened tone, as he did not wish to disagree with the queen.

The queen respectfully nodded her head, understanding his position.

The Scribe however, continued his hostile stance.

Miria asked him, with a sly smug, “will you not make your point known, Mr. Stein?”

As he heard the words of the queen, Stein became furious. “As if my words mattered anymore . . . you already have your majority! What a fair, common council this is.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Such is the way of our people in a crisis,” Miria answered back, fully aware of her own powers and advantages as a monarch.

“I thought you would be saner than Jameston, but clearly madness rules in these expeditions. Have a good night, Your Honor,” Stein said with a disappointed look as he waved goodbye and left the royal tent.

The remaining leaders looked to the queen, eager to finalize the conclave.

“Then it is settled gentleman,” Miria proclaimed. “We will go to the western isle, deal with the sun warrior problem and continue to foster good relations with our Fen allies.”

“Aye”

“Agreed!”

Rorrick and the sailor shouted their agreement while the first captain merely muttered in disapproval.

“I'm glad the majority is in agreement! Now then, I wish you gentleman a good night. Be sure to wake up early tomorrow—we have much to do before we depart,” Miria said as the various leaders began to exit one by one, until only Rorrick and Miria were left alone.

The moonlight gently danced with the fire as the bard too rose up. But before he left, he turned to his old friend. “Are you sure I would make a good felq? You know, I have never been that great of a leader. Just look at the ship I hired—the entire thing nearly mutinied on me.”

He thought of the great burden that had been placed in his shoulders and began to shake with anxiety. Miria moved in for a hug and whispered into Rorrick's ear. “There is no one I trust more on this expedition than you, Rorrick. You are capable of much more than you give yourself credit for.”

As he heard his friend's words, Rorrick felt his worries and anxieties fade, and in his companion's embrace he whispered back, “What about you? What if something bad happens to you while I'm here? I wouldn't be able to live with myself.”

Miria smiled, as she comforted the bard. “Well, if something happens, I will have a trusted friend to come back to here.”

Rorrick hugged his old beloved, and with a determined tone in his voice, he too comforted Miria. “I won't fail you, my shinning rose. I will be here to help you, no matter how many armies you fight against.”

As Miria eased into her old friend's warmth she nearly lost her composure and wished for just a second to shed the royal, cold exterior she had built up since they left each other. But she could not bring herself to do it.

She became teary-eyed as she realized she would face the coming storms without a true friend at her side. She hugged her old beloved tightly as the light of the night barely touched them. “Be safe, my bard.”

The former lovers spent a while merely hugging the other, both fearing this would truly be the last time they would be able to do so. They eventually broke apart, for as much as they wished to, they knew they could not remain there forever.

The bard and the queen made their peace, and with a saddened expression they took their leave of each other. Rorrick went toward the exit of the tent, but before he ultimately left, he turned to Miria, She was doing the same.

“Miria, I-

“Rorrick!”

There was an awkward pause in the air, as fear settled in.

“I . . . ”

“I lo . . . ”

Neither of them was able to finish, and rather than dwell on it, both simply nodded their head.

“Good night, Miria.”

“Sleep well, Rorrick.”

Rorrick finally left the tent and headed toward his own sleeping arrangements. Miria was left alone, wondering if she had made the right choice.

The Alq Fen fell into complete silence. All throughout the clearing, not a sound was heard, except for the wind and the calls of the stipebugs.

The morning came quickly for the humans who’d tossed and turned, dwelling through the night on their choice.

As the humans left their sleep arrangements, they saw as the Forest Folk, so used to their daily lives, quickly sprang into jobs and routines. The fact they had been awake so long carousing didn't seem to affect their energy at all.

The humans began packing their tents and supplies, and as they did so, the felq approached them, accompanied by the lily twins, the forest couple, and the Spiked Ones’ emissary. They were there half to give their goodbyes, and half to see if the humans would leave any sort of lasting damage in the clearing.

As Captain Gilbert oversaw the mariners and their jobs, the queen and the bard approached the Fenian envoys and bowed respectfully.

“Setting yourself to the seas already I see,” The felq said in the human tongue, to the surprise of everyone except Miria.

“I'm afraid so, Your Highness. I can't leave my people alone for too long lest they think something happened to me,” the queen answered with a diplomatic inflection, proper for addressing her equal.

“I understand. Think about the proposal I have made to you,” Felq Veln said in his deep voice as a thought came to his mind. “Before I forget.”

The felq then hit the spiked one in the shoulder as to signal to him, and as he did, the emissary knelt before the queen.

“He wishes to join you in your quest as you sail to his home. Lir, has promised to help you in any way he can, as you travel in his homeland,” the felq revealed. Lir remained knelt, putting pressure on his knee through his outer spikes, awaiting the queen's answer.

The queen considered the emissary’s help for a bit, but before she could make up her mind, a second tree stepped forward.

Agar proudly proclaimed in the Human language, “I want to go with you sea-walkers too, Felq Miria.”

The queen was a bit confused, mostly because she had thought both of the couple would remain behind and hopefully guide Rorrick in his mission in the Alq Fen.She questioned him. “I can understand envoy Lir wanting to come with us. But why do you want to come too, Agar?”

Agar looked with determination to the queen's eyes. “Long ago, my father helped fight back the sun warriors. He was part of the hunters and he fought them in the ambushes. The sun warriors took him captive along with others a long time ago. I want to find him, or at least find out what happened to him and the other Fen ambushers.”

The queen considered both the tree and the cacti’s offer. “Very well. I will accept both of your offers. You may come along with us and help us in our expedition. We are glad to accept help of any kind!” the queen said with a warm smile.

Agar quickly spoke with Lir, informing him of the queen's decision. As the duo then both gave a human bow to the queen in a sign of respect.

The lily twins began to talk with Vania, hoping to convince Rorrick to not leave the clearing. But to their surprise, he stepped forward and in his hasty, broken Fenian language, expressed his wish to stay in the clearing. More surprising though, especially to the tree couple, was Rorricks desire to join the Sea Dreamers.

Almost everyone in the Fenian side seemed extremely happy with the fact the human stringmancer had decided to stay.

Vania especially, immediately went forward and began hugging Rorrick and shower him with praise and thanks for joining her school.

As Rorrick pried himself from Vania's arms, she began to translate the twins’ words.

“That's wonderful Rorrick!”

“We can't wait to play some more with you.”

Even the felq made his mind known, as he told Rorrick in his language, “We have much to talk about, Rorrick Vigar, son of Romnick Vigar.”

Rorrick looked curiously to the bark-covered felq, and wondered how he knew his and the name of his father who had disowned him so long ago.

But before he could raise any questions, the human captain hailed the queen.

“Your Highness, we are all set to go,” Captain Gilbert said, as he wished to eagerly leave the tree-covered forest.

“Good then. Where's Stein by the way?” the queen asked. She had not seen him anywhere since she woke up.

“He left with a few mariners earlier, and Mr. Rorrick's sailor too. Said he was gonna go ahead back to the camp first so that when we arrive we can leave as soon as possible,” Captain Gilbert revealed with an uncharacteristic neutral tone.

As she heard the captain’s explanation, the queen became suspicious of the scribe's true intentions and hurriedly ordered her men to prepare to go back.

As everyone prepared to leave, a few last true goodbyes were exchanged.

Vania and Agar hugged and kissed each other one last time, as a breeze passed between them.

Miria gave one last respectful bow to the felq and the twins. And lastly, Rorrick approached Miria, pulled up her hands, and gave his friend her old pendant back.

The morning sun shone brightly above the old two adventurers, and as Miria held incredulously her old pendant, she looked to Rorrick with teary eyes. “You kept it? All this time?” Miria closed her hand holding it and tried to give it back to Rorrick. “I can't have this Rorrick . . . keep it.”

The bard merely shook his head and told her in a quiet but understanding voice, “Well, you can give it back to me next time we see each other.”

The queen let out a small laugh, as she heard the familiar words.

“And you will be standing here near the flowers?” She asked with a wavering inflection.

“Of course. And I will mope and hope the entire time, that I can see it again,” Rorrick said as he closed her hand that held the amulet.

As the bard leaned in and closed her hand, Miria took him by surprise, as she quickly gave her old friend a goodbye kiss in the cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered.

She instinctively composed herself, hoping her subordinates had not noticed it too much while they finished packing.

The bard remained silent, and with a simple teary look, he nodded to queen. “Be safe, my rose.”

The queen too nodded back, and quickly joined her mariners. And so, under the morning sun, and the western wind, the human expedition began to make their way back to the camps.

As they looked back, Miria and Agar saw the friends and loved ones they were leaving behind. With a last hand wave and look, the human party and its two new native guides entered the dark forest, now feeling even more isolated and unsure of what the winds and the seas had truly in store for them.

Carefully they marched through the trees and brushes. But through it all, both the humans and the guides felt something was wrong.

Miria especially hoped that Stein, or even Gilbert, had not betrayed her. Through the darkness of the forest and the marching of the mariners she prayed the gods could guide her through the tumultuous storm she still sailed.

If there was any comfort to her, it was knowing that, despite it all, her love would be safe and sheltered from whatever storm the gods had planned for her.

Far in the distance, in the middle of the Roaring Sea archipelago, on the second biggest island, a shining light set over its valleys. And from these deep, fertile valleys that extended far below the ocean line but kept themselves dry, echoed a mad chant, and desperate voices.

A cloud of smoke flew to the skies, and at its source, madness reigned.

“Praise our lady of luck! Praise Fortuna!” screamed the mad count Jameston at the top of his lungs. His situation had only deteriorated in the last days as he had established his colony and settlement of emaciated and hungry peasants.

“See how our goddess has been so kind to us? Look at the great bounties she has given us!” Jameston proclaimed as he gestured to the wooden houses the settlers had built and the great amounts of fish and berries that they had gathered.”

“Lord, please . . . we are hungry,” a lone daring peasant pleaded to his lord.

“I know, my friends! I know, I am hungry too. But trust me, the goddess wishes us to give this as tribute! Only by continuously showing our faith to her may we be blessed by the lady of chaos’ treasures!” The Count proclaimed as he stoked the blazes that engulfed the settlers’ only food source.

The colonists had not forgotten what had happened last time they tried to rebel, and out of fear of the count's protection, they merely witnessed as their food went up in flames.

Secretly, they did not pray for the count's death anymore . . . they prayed for theirs. For a merciful god to deliver them from the hell they found themselves in. Some had become so desperate that in their minds they prayed for a wizard to save them.

The count remained oblivious, but the nightmares of his encounter with the hiker still remained in his head.

Every thought of doubt that sprang into Jameston’s head was immediately countered with pure zeal and faith to his goddess.

The count had even stopped thinking about his departed foster father, knowing secretly and deep down that if he had seen the man he had become . . . if he had seen the man he had become . . . if he had seen the man he had become . . .

It didn't matter anymore. Only the goddess mattered now, and her will.

In the corner of his eye though, as the count frantically praised the goddess, he noticed something strange in the distance. At first, he feared it was the hiker, returned to torment him. But as he looked better, he realized it was something he had never seen before.

It was a strange . . . tree. A mixture of tree and man, but the tree was sick. Its skin was diseased green and white. Its hands were long, sharp and broken. And its hair was putrid, decaying leaves.

Worst of all though, it noticed the count's gaze, and as it realized it was being seen it vanished back again into the caves of the valley and left in its wake a decaying trail of dead flowers, plants, and roots.

Strangest of all about the entity was that it didn't seem pained by its condition. If anything, it looked like it was its natural state.

Perturbed by the vision he had witnessed, Jameston merely continued to praise his goddess. He screamed to the heavens even louder than before and hoped that his mad devotion and zeal would keep his people safe.

In the hot sea waters I saw a ship

Floating, Floating, Mastless

It had no crew

And it had no flag

and it Floated, Floated, Flagless

Floating, Floating, Mastless

Floating, Floating, Flagless

next our cap was gone

and we saw by dawn

Floating, Floating, Capless

Our ship's a chicken without its head

Floating, Floating, Capless

So we'll lower the flag

and burn that rag

Floating, Floating, Lawless

Floating, Floating, Flagless

Floating, Floating, Lawless

For we have no Cap

and have no Lord

Floating, Floating, Flagless

Captain Ivar's free men sung merrily as they returned to their ship with barrels and woven baskets filled with supplies and food.

The former mercenaries, who had taken to calling themselves the free men, put the supplies and food they had pillaged into their rowboats and a handful of them returned to the ship to continue their repairs.

On the beach and the coast, the men each prepared to return. Overseeing it all was the now-Captain Ivar.

The burning fire of the lone forest folk family hovel in the shore rose up with the smoke to the heavens.

Two sailors brought a bound forest folk girl, no older or younger than Vania, and presented her to their captain.

“Ivar! Look what we found hiding in the shacks hold.” The sailor said, as the Fenian woman twisted and turned in her rope shackles, trying to break free.

The Captain got close and carefully inspected the texture of her plant to wooden-like skin, He looked to the woman's eyes. “It's good wood,” he told his mates. “She'll make a fine addition to the hull.” The Fenian woman merely looked in fear at the alien race and strangers she had never seen before.

Ivar stood up, gave a quick hand motion and said, “Bring her in.”

The woman was dragged by the sailors, her muffled screams echoing as she joined the rest of the supplies and food that the free men had pillaged.

“’Tis a bountiful land, eh, Ivar?” one of the sailors asked.

Ivar looked toward the rest of the other Islands in the distance, and the settlements they harbored. “Aye. Best quality wood I ever saw. And tons of it.”