Pheston was the first to crest the hill and his loud whistle brought the others to their feet. Friedrich’s jaw dropped as he laid eyes upon the magnificent brass ship resting on the shore, guarded by two staff-wielding mages. One was old with a furrowed brow and a cunning smile; the other was a face he knew very well and had missed dearly the last week. Marina too, was smiling.

“That is a ship,” said Teleri in astonishment. “Are we supposed to set stail on a metal ship?”

Friedrich was dumbfounded. “It’s…it’s…” He tried to finish his sentence, but found himself unable to.

“Ain’t she a beaut, my friends?” asked Pheston. “I knew she would be a sturdy gal, but I had no idea just how good she’d look all polished up.”

The brass ship glistened in the sun, revelling in the splendorous daylight it could only admire from afar for untold years.

“Where are the sails?” asked Teleri, wrinkling her nose. “How can we take to the ocean without sails to carry us?”

“Sails?” called Sigurd, cocking his head to the side. “Did the elf girl say something about sails?”

Pheston brought Humfrid to a stop and everyone climbed from the wagon, making their way over to Sigurd and Marina who stood proudly beside their handiwork. When Friedrich approached, she cast her hand aside and held it out to the ship.

“Welcome to our new ship, Friedrich,” she said brightly. “And it didn’t cost you a single kupon.”

“You made this?” he asked in awe.

Pheston and Sigurd burst out laughing. “No, you lummox,” said Pheston, slapping Friedrich on the back. “It’s an old, old ship that we discovered many moons ago. Sigurd kindly agreed to painstakingly raise it up from the lakebed and our dear friend Marina here will power it as we set sail across the ocean.”

“I am confused,” said Teleri.

“Marina?” asked Sigurd.

“Gladly,” she said, grabbing onto a barely-used rope ladder that was hung from the side of the ship.

The lightning mage boarded the ship and vanished from sight. The others waited with bated breath, but they were not kept waiting long for, seconds later came a crash and a flash, followed by the slow mechanical whirring of gears and pistons. The ship stirred, rumbling vigorously for a moment before settling to a more controlled hum.

Marina ran to the bow and twirled her staff around before slamming it on the ship’s deck with a metallic clunk. “Behold, my friends, our ocean steed. More powerful than any horse, sturdier than any golem, and controlled by a dazzling lightning mage named Marina and her wondrous interplanar elemental, Shockwave. Are you amazed or are you stupefied?”

“This vessel can move using the power of lightning?” asked Teleri, sounding genuinely intrigued by the concept.

“If we’re to get technical,” said Sigurd, with a twitching eye, “it doesn’t have to be lightning, it is just one of the most efficient power sources and was thus used historically. We could use heat if we really needed to but why would we when we have a perfectly suitable battery in Shockwave.”

“As long as Marina can keep her control over him.”

“Precisely,” said Sigurd, wagging his finger. “So do not give her even an ounce of hassle on the journey or the lot of you could wind up adrift with nothing but water for miles.”

“There will be no hassle, for we are very close.”

Marina beamed at this. Teleri was much too honest to simply say such a thing to ward off Sigurd’s warnings.

Pheston grunted and puffed out his chest. “Alright, my friends. Shall we be off?”

“You’re leaving already?” asked Alf, looking hurt that as he rushed over to his grandfather and threw his arms around the burly smith’s waist.

Pheston smiled and patted the boy on the back. “It won’t be long before we’re back, lad. Don’t you worry about this old man, eh? Once I ensure everyone is safe and sound, we’ll have a full family reunion.”

“Yes,” said Alf, not trusting himself not to burst into tears should he say anything else.

“Son,” said Pheston, extending a hand to Bjorn.

“Father,” said Bjorn, accepting the handshake and then pulling his father into a brief hug. “Take care of yourself and come back to us soon.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” said Pheston proudly. His mouth then drooped. “About everything you’ve done for us…thank you.”

Bjorn gave his father a firm nod. “It was my honour.”

Stolen story; please report.

Friedrich, Marina, and Teleri expressed their gratitude to Pheston’s family and they took their leave, heading back to Lundstad with Humfrid. The others gathered on the deck of the brass ship. Pheston was careful to keep his left hand hidden behind his back as he ascended the rope ladder.

Nestled beneath the steering wheel was Shockwave, wedged into a podium. He remained perfectly still with only the glow of lightning signalling that he was still active. Not even his usual swirling dust accompanied him. He was a creature of small stones held together by wondrously frozen lightning that almost looked solid to touch.

“What do you think?” asked Marina, holding out her arms and spinning around.

“It’s perfect,” said Friedrich, still in awe that he finally had a vessel that would carry him to his father. “What did you name it?”

“I thought it would be best if we named it as a group.”

Friedrich looked around. “Considering you’re the one who will make the journey possible, I want to name it after you. How about the Brass Stormer?”

Marina’s eyes grew wide. “After me?” she asked, sounding touched.

“Aye,” said Pheston. “A fitting name.”

“I would prefer something in my native tongue, but I will accept Brass Stormer,” said Teleri.

“At last, a name,” said Sigurd, shaking his head. “She insisted on waiting until all of you arrived to name it, only for that process to take seconds. What a waste of time.”

“Cheer up, Siggy,” said Pheston, slapping his old friend on the back. “Look at what you’ve accomplished. This old rust bucket is ready to set sail after all these years. Be merry!”

“I am plenty cheerful, Pheston. I will be more assured knowing that Marina can keep up with the demands of powering the Brass Stormer. It is no easy feat, even for more accomplished mages.”

Marina held up a bag. “That’s why I have these,” she said, shaking the bag. The contents clinked around inside. “If I’m running low on energy, I’ll take a drink.”

“Especially when you need to sleep,” said Sigurd. “That is when you will struggle the most.”

“Worst case scenario, we will drift for a while,” shrugged Friedrich.

Sigurd sighed. “So lackadaisical…”

“Go sit yourself down, drink a cup of tea, and lay your fears to rest,” said Pheston, putting his hands on Sigurd’s shoulders and marching him over to the rope ladder. “Everything will be fine, my friend.”

“I hope that you’re right,” said Sigurd, solemnly. “I wish you all the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Sigurd!” called Marina as the water mage disembarked.

“Yes, thank you!” cried Friedrich, running to the edge of the boat.

Pheston clapped his hand. “Alright,” he said with a grin. “Let’s take this old gal out for a ride, shall we?”

“How do we leave the shore when we are aground?” asked Teleri.

“Friedrich?”

“Right away,” said the young man, climbing down the ladder. He transformed into a minotaur before Sigurd’s eyes and the mage leapt back in shock.

“Goodness!” he yelled. “I have never seen such a transformation in person before. You must let me study you when you are next in Corobath, young man. It would make for a fascinating book on soul magic.”

Friedrich grunted and nodded before turning to the boat. He placed his hands on the stern and clenched his jaw. He wedged his feet in the ground and drove from the legs, pushing the bow along the thick mud and sending it drifting into the water.

“If only you had an aquatic form,” sighed Sigurd, clicking his tongue. “Marina would be able to rest while you keep the boat on course.”

Friedrich leapt onto the rope and turned back into a human. “Maybe one day,” he called to Sigurd and gave a small salute in farewell.

“Goodbye!” called Marina, running to the bow to wave furiously at her latest magical guide.

Friedrich climbed on board as the Brass Stormer moved along. Pheston stood at the wheel, steering it across the lake and aiming for the river. The ocean was not far from Lundstad and they would be sailing in the sea by nightfall. Pheston bore a satisfied smile as he turned the wheel one-handed while still holding a rod-like shape behind his back.

Teleri walked along the edge of the boat, needlessly showing off her impeccable poise. She squatted beside Marina, reaching eye level with her. “Will you be able to maintain your magic while suffering from your seasickness?” the elf asked.

The lightning mage’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no,” she muttered. “I forgot to pay remedies back in the city.”

“We are still close to the shore.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Marina. “I know Friedrich insists we are not bound by time, but I would prefer we reach the island sooner rather than later.”

“If you are sure,” said Teleri, standing up and taking long strides along the edge of the boat. She stopped by the wheel and took over from Pheston who gave her a quiet thanks.

The smith grabbed Friedrich on his way over to Marina and the two said a couple of near-silent words before approaching the young Mercian. She looked at them in confusion until Pheston pulled a cloth-wrapped staff from behind his back.

“This is for you,” he said with a grin. “Friedrich has a new sword, Teleri a new bow; it’s only right that you receive your gift as well. Consider this my thank you to all of you for everything that you have done to bring me back home.”

Marina’s eyes list up. She gratefully accepted the staff from Pheston and unwrapped it. The shaft was a dazzling copper colour with ringlets at the bottom and top. The base was sharp and pointed, spear-like, while the top of the staff forked in three with the two outer prongs curling around like crescents and stopping just shy of meeting each other. The middle prong was smaller and the top was concave as though something was missing from it.

“It’s spectacular,” said Marina in awe.

Pheston tapped on the shaft. “The metal may look like copper, but it won’t conduct electricity and shock you. The dragon bones will keep you safe when you tap into its full potential. May I have your old staff

“Of course,” said Marina, taking it from her back and passing it over.

Pheston took Vigr in his hand and bashed the wooden top, dislodging the amethyst which Pheston caught between a couple of fingers. It had been locked firmly in place and Friedrich couldn’t see how it had fallen through.

“How?” he asked, looking at the gemless branch in bewilderment. “That was trapped!”

“Vigr is a versatile little hammer, eh?” said Pheston merrily. “Equally suited to crushing my enemies as he is crafting works of art.” He looked to Marina. “Hold out your new staff, please, girlie.”

Marina did as she was asked and Pheston held the freed amethyst to the concave central prong. He tap it firmly with Vigr once more and then let go. The amethyst did not budge, leaving Marina’s new staff incomplete no more.

The smith tossed the staff back to Marina.

“Thank you,” she said with a dazzling smile. She twirled the staff around in her hands, almost smacking Friedrich across the chin with it. “Sorry! I didn’t realise it was longer than my old one.”

“It’s fine,” said Friedrich with a chuckle. “I’ve been hit by worse. You just focus on powering the ship and we’ll do whatever it is you need of us.”