Five months passed in a flash.
People told Isaac that he was well-prepared for anything the adventurer exam could throw at him, but Isaac knew better. Whatever he did could not be enough, and would not be enough. All that left was the hope that maybe he could at least pass the next test, push past that next boundary that seemed so impossibly far away.
He was practically crawling through the obstacle course for the third time this day. His legs were screaming, his pectorals were making their existence prominently known, and all of that was still better than thinking about whether there would be any mail for him today.
Mail by ferry only came once a week. The exam was in two days. If someone had mixed his letter up, if there had been a delay, if anyone in the long chain screwed up and sent the letter with the next shipment, he’d only find out when the exam was already over.
Between Claire and Hammond, he knew how to stance right and not get knocked over in a fight, and maybe clap back anybody who got too cocky. After all, Isaac was quite tall, and Claire’s training had started to fill out a once lanky frame. But what did that matter when the call came too late?
Yes, his backpack was prepped with every tool and utility he could need. He had an ultra lightweight sleeping bag, a thick coil of climbing rope, firestarters, water bottles, the hat turtle, a notebook, and enough sandwiches to last the week. His fishing kit was disassembled and resting in a small casket (he thought lines and hooks were always handy to have). His new pok-ball bat was custom-made from a Tier 2 wood which was both hefty and hardy and felt good in his hands. It looked too innocent for a club. Hopefully people underestimated it, because no matter where he looked, competition for the adventurer exam was fierce.
He’d seen the statistics over and over, even watched a few recordings of the last exam three years ago. The faces and reactions of the interviewees ranged from tired but happy to tired but dissatisfied.
One particular gentleman launched into a rant about inhumane conditions, favoritism, and ‘willful sabotage by actors of a rival house whose name I shall not name’. Whether that was true or not, the residents of the WettNett had made their judgment, and someone had already posted his full name, home address, private school he’d flunked out of, shoe-size, and allergies of all things on the net.
How did they even find that out? Why did they think revealing those would help?
Maybe someone didn’t like his accent, maybe he really was being singled out by saboteurs, or maybe people had too much time on their hands. If there was one thing Isaac had learned about the denizens of the WettNett, it was that everyone was terminally bored, and hungry like hangerfish for any sort of entertainment, especially when it came to tournaments and adventurer exams.
If I ever get interviewed after the fact, I’ll say something uplifting. ‘Hey, I didn’t make it, but there’s no rule against retries’.
The rules written on the official adventurer exam website were generous in that regard. The maximum Tier was Tier 2, the test could be retaken whenever they hosted them every couple years, and during the exam all medical fees and procedures were waived and covered by an onsite staff of professional healers flown in ahead of the adventurer barge currently on its way to Wett.
Of course, the presence of healers implied people got hurt regularly and seriously enough to warrant them.
None of this matters if I can’t get in.
He peeked at the ocean out from a break in the treeline and spotted the ferry leaving the island. He shot up.
I missed it! Crap, crap, crap.
The run down to the communal mailbox was more of a stumble than an actual run. When he reached it, he remembered that he needed the right key for the orphanage’s box, ran right back up the hill, got it, then tumbled back down so fast he almost ran Zach over.
They hadn’t talked much ever since Zach had started secluding himself in his own part of the forest, and all the other kids were saying was that he was sitting on rocks, under the tiny waterfall, or hanging from tree tops looking mighty meditative. Supposedly, he was making pebbles float. It made sense to Isaac. Zach’s boon was about dirt after all. And while Isaac’s nervousness had long since reached its peak, his brother just continued on as unflappable as always.
Isaac tried to mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ but all that came out was a garbled wheeze and cough.
And then he was back. The mailbox opened with a clatter and a clink. Between flyers for kitchen appliances and important looking mail that wasn’t for him, Isaac found a piece of paper addressed ‘to Isaac Quillson, Sophia Wist, Seagull island, orphanage. For your eyes only. Numa 2 - Adventurer association.’
This is it.
He almost tore it open then and there, but it wouldn’t have been fair to Sophia. He found her reading alone in the classroom, and it didn’t take two full sentences until they were both sitting at the dinner table, staring at the paper as if it was made of gold.
Isaac sure was staring. He stared at it again, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating from working out to death.
“Well, time to open it,” Sophia said and tore the envelope open.
“I was saving the moment!” he groaned. “It was supposed to be special.”
“The only thing that matters is what’s inside the envelope.”
“At least make the reveal more… give it a countdown.”
“Fine.” She placed the paper on the table with a blank side facing up. “One, two…”
Isaac grabbed a corner and they both turned it over.
There was only one line written on the blank paper.
Yellow clothed brumish beauty will see you to testing location Pirth City on the 27th of Mune.
“That’s… an answer, I guess?” Sophia said. “It’s a yes, right? Right, Isaac?”
Isaac wiped a sweaty forehead. “I think so. It sounds like a riddle. Where exactly in Pirth city do we need to go? ‘Mune’ is a goddess, not a name for a month. And what does brumish mean?”
“No clue.”
They both stared at the offending piece of paper as if they were hoping it might break under the pressure and reveal its secrets.
“We’ll have to get someone’s help,” Sophia said, “someone who knows the wily ways of the mind.”
“But technically it’s only us two taking the exam. Wouldn’t that be considered… cheating?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “Please Isaac, moral grandstanding isn’t going to win us any medals. Who knows how many other people are doing far, far worse stuff than asking friends and family for some advice?”
Who knows indeed.
+++
The first person they thought to ask was Hammond, whose answer was rather single-syllabic.
“No.”
Then they asked Claire. She had a bit more to say.
“I am sorry my little mudskips, but ex-adventurers aren’t allowed to share information on any part of the association, for reasons of safety, privacy, and to ensure a competitive spirit. But I have faith that you two will wiggle through.”
And just like that their two best options were crossed out.
“It is time for desperate measures,” Sophia said darkly.
“We’ve barely been at this for thirty minutes,” Isaac commented.
“We must go into the forest. Deep in the green, there lives a wise man, old like cheese and just as smelly.”
“That’s pretty rude to Zach.” And yet, he was their best option. Nobody puzzled like Zach. Just yesterday Isaac had caught him going through a five-thousand-word puzzle as if he knew where to put each piece beforehand. He was the kind of guy who loved everything from paperchases and treasure hunts to ancient riddles and crossword puzzles, and after losing his hand that interest had grown almost fanatic.
They combed through the island, finding him sitting on a rock in the clearing next to the waterfall, which was less a fall and more a gurgling rivulet running down the perpetually wet rock-face.
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Zach didn’t seem like he noticed them. His eyes were closed. In front of his face, a golfball-sized piece of dirt was floating as if by magic.
“Oh venerable elder—”
“Hey, got your boon to work?” Isaac interrupted Sophia.
The piece of dirt dropped and fell apart. Zach groaned. “I almost had a new record. And as you can see, yes, I did get it to work. I’m having trouble sorting the silty clay from loamy sand, but just having more mana to work with is a godsend.”
“Is it like a free skill?”
“It’s more; it’s less. I’m doing all… all this as a prerequisite. I’m thinking of taming one of the local burgundy whales once I’m done here.”” He reached to his side and drank some water. He almost downed the entire bottle in one go. “Sorry, what were you here for?”
Isaac looked to Sophia.
“Oh most esteemed elder—”
“You need my help. Is it almost math-week? Show me the equation, I’ll explain it.” Sophia slumped as Zach made a gimme-motion with his hands.
Isaac patted her on the shoulder. “We have a riddle, actually. Our exam invite isn’t exactly forthcoming.”
Zach rummaged through the letter, turned it this way and that. “No extra messages I can see. Feels incomplete, but everything is in its place,” he muttered.
“Well, obviously it’s just a hint.” And a scavenger hunt was awfully in the adventurer spirit.
Zach read the line in silence over and over, before giving it back to Isaac.
“There are four pieces of information in this letter.”
“Place, date,” Isaac counted. “Do you need more? We can get to Pirth via ferry easily enough.”
“But you don’t know where in Pirth the exam will take place. My guess is that reaching the exam is part of the challenge. It weeds out the least capable without requiring extra manpower.”
That makes… a whole lotta sense. I wonder how many people among seven million will even make it to the starting line?
“So we’ll have to go looking in Pirth, right. What about the other information?”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “It’s in the first lines. Brumish beauty. ‘Brume’ means ‘mist’, or ‘fog’. And beauty, well, there are lots of synonyms for beauty. Babe, beaut, knockout, stunner, Venus, belle, dreamboat— ”
“Foggy dreamboat,” Sophia mumbled. “That’s the name of a type of research ship. It’s this really old type; I saw one pass by a few times.”
“You sure you remember that right?” Isaac asked.
“For sure. It’s not the kind of boat you forget, and its name was written in pretty big letters on the prow.”
“Yellow clothed. Does that mean it’s painted yellow?” Isaac asked.
“Seems like as good a hint as any,” Zach said. “I think you’re expected to board it when it comes by.”
“Alright. So an unforgettable looking boat with yellow colors is going to get us to Pirth.” Isaac pointed to the last part of the message. “But still, I’ve never seen this style of dating used anywhere else. We can’t watch out for a boat all day. And if it comes by night, we’re really going to miss it.”
Zach tapped the side of his nose. “That is part of a calendar, but not ours. Claire mentioned it once, as a tidbit during species and cultures class. And the only other calendar in use on Wett is…”
“The merpeople calendar.” Of course, Mune was one of their gods. Isaac typed the date into his brick and immediately it offered to convert it into actual human units. “The 27th of Mune is the 4th of October. Which is… today.”
They all blinked in unison, staring out of the break in the trees.
“Is that a ship on the horizon?”
“It’s not a whale.” Zach muttered.
“I think I see yellow in its… sails. It has sails.”
“It’s getting closer pretty fast.”
Zach handed Sophia the letter of invitation. “You should probably start running.”
“Ack, shit, not twice in one day!” Isaac twisted, twirled, stumbled. “You’ll come see us off, right Zach?”
“I’ll be there. Now leave your wise elder be. I have dirt to rotate.” As they left the clearing, Zach waving lazily at their backs, Isaac swore he heard him muttering to himself “Almost there. Almost…”
+++
“The captain’s taking a lunch break at Barnabies. Cast off is delayed by ten.”
“Oh thank Maerdon,” Isaac huffed, staring up the giant casket-like bow. “I can’t believe they still make these.”
In the age of electricity and passenger ships, the ancient galleon felt like a visitor straight out of history, dozens of sails flapping in the wind, its wooden hull weather-worn and well-acquitted to the seas of Wett. Her name was Foggy Dreamboat, proving Sophia correct, and she creaked as she gently dimpled in place where she was moored to their small jetty.
“Supposedly they build these so they can sail through protected waters, nature reserves, and what have you,” Sophia commented.
“They are blissfully quiet,” Claire said with a distant gaze. “I still remember the first time I saw one of their bows drifting up along the water’s surface. What is the literal translation of the water’s surface in Wetlang, Isaac?”
“Uh… small ceiling?”
“Good,” she sniffed. “Very good.”
She nodded once. The sun was hiding behind a ceiling of gray clouds, and the sea was somewhat uppity. The pier was overcrowded with all the kids from the orphanage, and with Hammond and Claire. She was holding Klara, the newest addition to their big family. Neither of them looked like they could hold back tears any longer, but Claire at least managed a short, uninterrupted speech.
“You have your rope, remember not to lose your rope, rope is love, rope is life. Your food will keep seven days, but only taste good for five. Remember to shower, smelling bad means some bloodlines can track you from a mile away. It takes a brave man to be a coward; run away if you need to, and remember that safety is more important than success. It’s monsoon season, so if you can’t make it back before the tide, stay in a public shelter. Brush your teeth. Listen to your little sister.”
He wrapped her in a big hug.
“Thank you.”
Claire blinked away a few silent tears, and Klara started bawling. She was having a hard time fitting in. Isaac knew because the other kids complained that she cried at night and sometimes peed the bed.
Time to be the big brother.
“Hey, Klara, look here. I have something for you.” He produced a little much-abused plushy, with four stubby legs, two beads for eyes, and a round bowler hat. “It’s the hat turtle. I didn’t name him well, so I thought maybe you could help me along?”
The little blonde girl stared at the plushy and sniffed. “Rupert.”
“Rupert. That’s a great name.” Rupert fit perfectly in the palm of her little hand. “Can you keep him safe for me? Animals aren’t allowed on board, you see.”
“He’s not a real animal,” she said with a mix of a sniff and a laugh.
“He also doesn’t like water, even though he’s a turtle. Please take care of him.”
Klara nodded and seeing that she was placated, Isaac twirled around to the rest of the orphans. Few of them understood where he was going, and most were excited that their big brother was going on a big adventure.
“Alright you little pests, I’ll be back in a week tops to check your homework, so no slacking. Listen to Hammond, to Claire or, in emergencies, to Zach.”
“As if!” Kyle yelled, earning him a few giggles.
“Then listen to Kyle, since he’s the second oldest now. Have fun changing diapers Kyle!” The boy paled and Isaac turned to Hammond.
They nodded at each other. Nothing more needed to be said, but just as Isaac was turning to leave, Hammond cleared his throat. “The difference between tiers isn’t insurmountable this low on the ladder, but try not to fight up. If things get bad, give us a call. We’ll carry the long distance fees, and whatever else you might need.”
With that, Isaac walked up the plank and onto the ship bustling with casually busy sailors. Sophia was already there. Her eyes were rimmed with a cathartic redness.
“What?”
“Nothing. That was cute, what you did there with Klara.”
“The hat turtle is a survivor. He will keep her safe.” He leaned against the lacquered taffrail. “It still feels like I’m leaving a part of my heart on this island.”
“Poetic.” Sophia snorted, waving back at their family. “Zach didn’t show up, did he?”
Isaac thought about lying, so at least one of them could stop worrying, but decided against it. “He’s still out in the woods. Didn’t even come to say goodbye.”
“We should have never let him tier up.” Sophia wiped her face on her sleeve. “Ever since the only thing that gets him away from meditating is dinner and breakfast, and I’ve seen him skip breakfast three times this week. Stupid idiot.”
The ship creaked beneath their boots. A sailor yelled something above their heads. The weather wasn’t going to clear anytime soon.
“I could buy the captain a dessert while you go get him? Tell him what you gotta, real talk, bro to bro.”
“He probably doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Brosefski to brosefski”
“Stop.”
“Broserinski to broseronski?”
“Sophia, please.”
He appreciated that she was trying to lighten the mood, really, he did.
Maybe he’s angry. Maybe I’ll come back and he’ll have done something even more stupid than with the rift. Maybe he’s still angry because of the hand, maybe because I stole his dream. I did, didn’t I? Zach wanted to stand where I am, not me.
“I’m shaking.” He showed her his hands.
“Then go. No regrets.”
Isaac thought he should, then thought some more. Sails were unfurled, the anchor was lifted. Slowly, but with an unstoppable momentum, the Foggy Dreamboat separated from the pier and drifted away from the island.
“Welp,” said Sophia, “there goes that.”
A voice came to them from far down the shore. A… it looked like a wildman or a hobo covered in leaves was jumping about on the beach, but it was clearly Zach. Isaac noted how he was jumping two meters in the air and doing cartwheels and yelling like he was having the time of his life.
He’s doing fine. And he doesn’t look angry. Good for him.
“Zaaach!” Isaac yelled. He didn’t know if the noise would carry, though seeing as Zach turned his head, it must have. Zach yelled something back that Isaac didn’t understand. Then he got into a sprinting position, raised his rear, and bolted for the sea.
Oh god, the idiot’s trying to swim for us. He’ll never catch up.
As his feet hit the surf his steps shortened, and Isaac recognized it as a throwing stance only seconds before something left his hand. It glinted against the sun and flew in an arc. He ducked behind the taffrail — real smart, considering it was fifty percent open air, as the projectile hit the bow two meters lower with a thunk.
“That crazy son of a — oh, he’s going to rue the day we come back,” Sophia said as Isaac picked himself back up. “What is it?”
“The dagger. The one we used against the crab-monsters.” Zach must have thrown it at least eighty-plus meters, and even hit with the right end.
I couldn’t have done that.
Isaac couldn’t even imagine how Zach had accomplished it. The throw looked like something straight out of a movie. Did rotating dirt somehow increase his knife skills? Isaac would have noticed, rather, someone would have on their small island. And besides the knife, everything about how Zach moved appeared full of energy, almost cartoonishly exaggerated, as if he wasn’t yet used to newfound strength.
“Sophia, somehow, I think our brother’s boon isn’t just about dirt.” He looked down at the dagger still wobbling from the impact. “And I also think we’re gonna need a rope.”