They had been on the sea for three days and nights. The wind was not strong but steady, directly from the east. The steam engines were ready in case the automatic paddles needed to be turned on if the weather changes and the sails fall idly.
The three friends and the fourth companion tried to spend as much time together as they could regarding Verlar’s duties and the two officers’ (mainly Kyeta’s) meetings and drills.
They liked Magalla more and more, her independent way of living, adventurous nature, stories she was telling and knowledge she was sharing. With her, the world became wider and its history more obscure, inviting curious questions. What do we actually know about the dead civilisations, about the world that brought both destruction and development, cruelty and enlightenment? What did the ancestors leave behind apart from dragons and a piece of technology? To get the right answers a human being would need to dig deep into the mine of forgotten words and moulded papers and be able to distinguish in darkness a diamond from an ordinary stone. Nothing was obvious and straight, the judgement required inquisitorial research of not just pure facts, but also the philosophy and customs of the old world. There was a danger, Magalla said, in the way the modern civilisation was developing. ‘I’m afraid we are repeating the old mistake and the planet might not recover from it the second time. In time we start taking too much, changing the world to our liking without boundaries and without cogitation. Millions years ago human race change the planet’s life course and it was not a right thing to do. It caused a collapse that led to cataclisms and wars,’ she was telling with concern. ‘This time It might be centuries before something bad happens again. The other continents are far away and probably still wild or dead, it puts the danger away. Not forever though. There must be a way to go on with progress and not initiate destruction. The bad news is, if the history was to repeat, you would need the whole nation of geniuses to figure things out in enough time. And not only that, the rest of us would need to be willing to listen.’
‘Maybe it doesn’t matter after all,’ argued Kyeta. ‘How much wisdom had been forgotten through millennia? What we call ancient used to be recent for the founders of our kingdoms, they talked about forgotten knowledge we can’t even imagine. Maybe it was forgotten not without a reason. Maybe it was all... bullshit?’
‘Like the extinct dragons.’, supported her Verlar.
‘You and your dragons. You can’t stop thinking about them’, sighed Ottaine and pat him on the back.
‘They are my love and passion, yes. And do you know at the beginning one of the first resurrected, before the wingfinger, were actually gigantic sea beasts, destined to work as, how to call it, sea-mules? The idea of creating an animal that can drag a ship across the ocean and save fuel was one of the first to fund the whole project. Unfortunately, the dragon, although strong and easy to breed, was untamable. The brain was too small, only one in twenty was able to follow the instructions. You would either need to use very brutal methods in training the beast or abandon the idea altogether. Of course, it happened to be the latter. The remaining individuals were separated so they didn’t mate, and they died out in a few decades.’
‘What a pity,’ sighed Kyeta. ‘Maybe we would have a giant dragon living in the ocean and scaring the sailors, what a legend that would be!’
‘You are absolutely right’, Verlar agreed. ‘There is the legend already: two dragons escaped the capture and now in the deepest and furthest waters you can encounter their offspring.’
‘I like that,’ said Kyeta.
‘Were the escapees of the opposite sex?’ Magalla asked a very important question.
‘We have stirred away from the topic, people’ Verlar wanted to come back to the discussion. ‘The extinct species of dragons are not bullshit, my point was some ideas seem to be good, some even work in a specific environment for some time, not every one of them makes it to the future. Some ideas are believed to be true but the new research finds them to be just twaddle. That’s what I wanted to say.’
‘So do you know any interesting facts, or even just legends about our past, Magalla?’ asked Kyeta.
‘The origins of Skey-Er Empire are the most documented in the old volumes in the capital’s library.’ Magalla replied vigorously. She loved talking about what she had found out. ‘First, the climate shift cleansed the land of people who did not survive or escaped for the Solummgerian Islands and to the Northern Continents. Second, the Weapon War destroyed the Northern Civilisations. There were over two hundred years between the two events, the continents regained their stability and became less hostile for humans. The last refugees on the Western Land sailed here with their scientists and laboratories. When the Northern Continent fell, their last people joined the Westerners in this part of the world. This is where the old civilization continued for a couple of centuries. In the end, they were destroyed by plagues, crop failure and the last acts of the Weapon War. It is believed the people of the Eastern Continent took a shameful part in it. Although it is disputable. The details vary from source to source, some say the Easterners slaughtered the remaining elves who settled in modern Skey-Er and Landhapis, others say there was nothing like that but marriages between the old and newcomers mixed and merged the cultures and that’s how elves became the minority group. Other historians say the Easterners brought the technology that made the new world and the old civilisation left to search new lands except for elves who sailed to Solummger and settled in Sjaell. All of these stories are faulty, there is not enough evidence supporting any of them. So it’s safe to call them legends.’
‘I really wonder what is beyond the oceans. Is the Northern really dead? Did the Eastern turn into a sea of sand? What really happened to the Western masses?’, wondered Kyeta.
‘Did you know our continent used to be dry and inhospitable?’ asked Magalla. ‘Where the moors and forests are today there were only sand and dry rocks. The waters broke out shortly after the start of the Weapon War. 'Shortly' rather in the cosmic term. Those tropical forests, masses of wetland bloomed like a flower in a desert. It is amazing, it took so little time for nature to develop into something so rich in life and beautiful...’
‘I didn’t know you were a romantic’, said Verlar with a smile.
‘I am not. Certainly not. Don’t you dare call me that.’ she replied with an artificial zeal. ‘I am simply amazed how the world can change and how nature can fight back. How life fights back.’
‘Talking about fights, make sure you check where you are and stay far away from the real ones,’ Verlar warned her.
‘Don’t worry about me, boy. I am in my mid-thirties and not very stupid.’
Verlar backed off embarrassed.
For Ottaine the nights on the ship were the best. The breathtaking number of stars she has never seen in her life was shining above her. She could clearly distinguish the four brightest points making the navigation sign recognisable by even the worst layman. The moon was new, the silver light did not steal the attention from the billions of suns. Ottaine’s favourite was not the brightest of them or the astonishing highway crossing through the sky. She liked the patches of dark in between the lights. Every time she focused her eyes on one of them and managed to see a faint star she was instantly filled with joy. The more she looked at the sky, the more of these appeared, to the point she felt space sucked her soul into its depth and she was slowly melting away in the caring vastness of the Universe. Sometimes Magalla was joining her and they were watching the motionless play in silence. Magalla loved looking at the brightest fragments, ‘imagining there is someone looking at me out there, wondering ‘am I alone in this world?’’.
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‘Do you think one day we will travel beyond air into space?’ Ottaine asked one night.
‘Like in the old days? Yes, I do’, Magalla was sure about it.
‘Do you think we really got there in ancient times?’
‘Yes. There's no evidence but I choose to believe it. Because that's what makes me dream of an amazing future if the past was amazing too.'
'And in thousands of years, people will stare at the night sky, think of us here and now, and say ‘Hey, what amazing past this world had, don't you agree?'
'Yes, you must be right. The grass is greener not only on the other side of a hill, the other time too.'
'I'm enjoying my grass. That's my decision.'
'I am too,' they agreed and continued admiring the sky in silence.
Landhapis welcomed them with the hot burning sun and the smell of rotting fish. Nothing unusual in the Port Town. However, Verlar noted with disdain, somebody could clean the streets and pavements of the sticky rubbish, sea carcasses and install one or two public toilets.
The town was small, made up of low buildings, many of them had thatched roofs and no access to the sewage system, judging by the sight of people throwing dirty water to the gutters.
Ottaine and Kyeta had left with their troops, they were stationing twenty miles away from the port. Verlar finished his duties and was ready for the return journey. More Solummgerian soldiers were still waiting across the sea. The docks crew would take over to clean the decks, stock food, and check the vessel's condition. Verlar was planning to spend the night in his hammock surrounded by some of his comrades. They had been warned about the Port Town's taverns and hotels' poor hygiene standards, as well as the health state of its ‘ladies’. Verlar was sure that many sailors were going to take the risk anyway and he was far from blaming them. He refrained from the short pleasure until the ship docks in the east.
'Aren't you going to do your manly business in a tavern's enclave?', asked a cheerful voice reading his mind.
'How do you know I was thinking about the female company?'
'Your eyes were on those red-tinned shutters', Magalla pointed at the stained windows with old and cracked paint and something that even from this distance looked like mould.
'Ah, we, men, are so easy to read, right?', he laughed, 'if the ladies' sweet bodies are as clean as those streets and inhabited by the same species I have been trying to kill off for the last hours, I'd rather fast.'
She said 'hmmm' and Verlar wasn't sure if it's a reassuring ‘hmmm' or something of the opposite meaning.
'What plans do you have now? Where are you heading to?' he asked.
'I will try to earn some money here and then go to Fuerumig.'
'The fastest way to the capital would be the sea route but no Solummgerian ship is going this way in the next few weeks or even months. The local fleet... I would not recommend it for a female traveller. Although', he added remembering her attitude and skills, 'you would probably be fine.'
Magalla gave him a very broad smile showing that dimple again.
'Thank you. That's nice to be somehow respected while protected. But I prefer going on land. I want to see the country, also this way I will be able to stop and earn money or food with my so-called ‘art’, and I want to talk to people. This is a foreign land, this is exciting!' and her voice did show expectation of the upcoming adventure.
'I hope you’ll find what you're looking for here. And I hope the war does not come your way.'
'I can't say the same about you. I hope you all come back home in one piece, with medals shining on your chests.'
'Oh yes, that would be nice. Everyone would like to be a hero.'
'But only those who wish for nothing can be ones.’
'Disagree. Those who fight for something more important than their own life can be ones too. A child, a loved one... god... maybe a homeland too.'
'Maybe. I don't believe in any god, I don't care where I live, I don't love anyone at the moment.'
'And you're not a soldier.'
'Right, which decreases my chances of becoming a war heroine.'
They looked at the dirty waters thinking about what else to say.
'When are you leaving?' Verlar finally asked.
'As soon as possible. There are some settlements twenty miles North-West. I want to get there before dark.'
'Aren't you worried about finding a decent place to sleep?'
'I have a tent and I stopped worrying a long time ago. I can tend to myself, I have been most of my life.'
'This is a different country, and you are a foreigner. Your way of speaking betrays you, your hair that's considered rebellious in this part of the world may not be met with a friendly eye. The people of Landhapis are known to be both hospitable and, how do I put it, difficult to accept novelties. I hope you always meet the first kind but please, don't forget our way of living could come against their ‘sacred tradition’.'
'I'll remember your warnings, thank you,' she said firmly.
'I'm not trying to patronise you. I just don't know how much you know about this country. But if my concern is against your feminism...'
'No, sorry. I'm probably too pettish. A little bit.'
'Yeah, just a little bit, right. A drink to say goodbye?'
'No, thank you. I'll be on my way. Maybe we'll see each other again. You are the first people I enjoyed spending time with, in a long time. And... Verlar?'
'Yes?'
'I hope she sees in you what you see in her.'
'Whaa...? Is it so obvious?'
'No, it's not obvious until the two of them start talking and your attention is focused on Kyeta. The way you smile when she talks. The lack of harsh notes in your voice when you reply to her.'
'Hmm. It's going to be a long time until we talk again. Maybe I'll get over her by then,' he said but he knew after a brief meeting under the deck he would not get rid of the thought. He knew he was not the only one, actually, there were very few men who did not give Kyeta a second look. And yet he couldn't help being slightly, constantly and annoyingly in love with this cheerful blonde woman.
He said goodbye to Magalla and turned away to focus on anything else he could, hoping this war would end sooner than it started.