The sun broke through the small window at the top of my room, and the soft cry of a lark outside stirred me from dreams of the sea and what lay beyond. Bird still lay in my bed, curled on his side, wrapped snuggly in my faded green quilt. I crept out of bed, so as not to disturb his peaceful slumber. I threw my hair into a messy knot and traded my bed gown for a sturdy pair of trousers and a light wool tunic. It may have been fall, but it was also the first day of what sailors referred to as “the calms”. The calms are the three days in the middle of a season when neither of our two moons, Aera and Thine, show themselves in the night sky. There is no wind to pull ships, no breeze to cool a hardworking farmer, no gust to chill a snow-locked Northman. In just over two days my family and I would arrive in Azurnia, the capital city of the empire, to deliver the excess of our midseason harvest to the sprawling market. From there I would find a ship bound for Iocall as soon as there was wind to fill a ship's sails.

I crept softly from my bedroom, closing the door ever so gently, then passed through the small, cramped main room of our home, and out the front door. I was greeted by the sight of my father looking over the two wagons filled with crates of carefully packed produce, fresh and preserved, that we would be selling in a few days' time.

My father looked up, and a grin spread across his whiskered cheeks.

“Well look at you, up at the crack of dawn. Wasn't expecting any of you little ones for at least another hour or two.”

I matched his cheerful expression and felt an inner warmth spread across my cheeks. “I hardly slept a wink last night,” I admitted, my voice half an octave higher than usual. “Today's the day Papa, I'm finally going to see part of the world! I'll explore ruins, find treasures,” I swung my arms in the air, “maybe I'll even slay some bog men!” I flourished my last claim by shooting two bolts of fire from my palms into the sky.

Mia, our youngest yak, shifted wearily backward, away from the flames. The rest of the herd seemed as unimpressed as my siblings, save Bird, usually were.

“Easy there girl,” cooed my father as he soothed the young cow. As Mia began to settle, he shifted his gaze once again toward me. A smile was still on his face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Well let's just hope it's ruins and treasures, not so much bog men and dragons, and gods know what else.”

“Why does everybody think there are dragons in Iocall? They like the mountains, and being up north in general, not the steamy jungles of the islands.” I grumbled. Realizing that wasn't really the point of what he was saying, I quickly followed up. “Don't worry papa, it's not like I'll be on my own anyway. The adventurer's guild in Akoné will make sure I've got real equipment and a team.”

“Mmm, I suppose," he replied as he began to attach yokes to the pairs of yaks that would be pulling our caravan.

Akoné, the largest and main island of Iocall, was famous for its adventurer's guild. Their entire mission was to ensure that their adventurers lived to see another day and continue making their fortunes. After all, a dead adventurer can't pay their dues.

In the early hours of the third day of travel, we made our way to the southwestern edge of the Azurnia, where the harbor and trade market was located. The ever-growing swarm of people who looked less and less like the rest of our family, and whose sour moods and rigid, stern behavior made the little ones anxious. The cacophony of the market setting up, the rowdy sailors, and the clamor of those searching for passage to and from distant lands assaulted our attentive ears. The smell of sweat, spices, muck, and perfumes and many ndother scents too foreign to us wreaked havoc on our sensitive noses. The vibrant hues of clothing, skin tones and hair, and furs and gems were impossible for our observant eyes to take in. While the little ones, especially the youngest few, shrank within the confines of the covered wagons and the cloaks of our parents, I found myself desperate to take it all in and learn to embrace the absolute chaos. And, although she pretended not to be, I knew Laela was just as enraptured.

I willed myself to stick with the caravan just a little longer until we had off-loaded our wares to a local merchant who my father had been selling to since he was a young lad himself. As it was every season, for as long as I could remember, the man and his son argued and bartered with mama and papa, each haggling towards what each party considered a fair deal. Most Sarrei wouldn't bother with such an aggressive dance, but my parents had always, at least as I could recall, been more than happy to play a Capitalist's game. By the time both parties were satisfied, nearly a third of the market was set up and ready to sell their wares. Bird and Arlay, the youngest two, were restless in chaos.

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I made my farewells, all but Laela and my father were in tears at our parting.

Laela was last to the embrace me. She gripped me tightly in a fierce hug I never dared dream she could muster.

“Don't you get yourself killed chasing glory,” she whispered in my ear. She pulled away, her caramel brown eyes glistening with tears held back, and plucked an orb locket from the pocket of her dress.

“It's got portraits of all of us. Gaurus was a dear and had been painting them over the summer. I figured you could look at it and remember that there's people who care about you back west.”

I held the bronze locket in my palm, and opened the stacked hinged panels, revealing 8 tiny portraits of each of my family members. A traditional gift among Sarrei for the spouse that does not stay with their family home, as a way to ease the transition.

“The whole summer? I didn't realize he had been courting you that long. Don't go getting married when I'm gone." My voice wavered as I teased my sister.

“Of course not, that's way too much work for you to skip out on, and Diana would make a terrible maid of honor.”

I let out a hearty laugh; the thought of our perpetually scowling Diana, next oldest after me, was a wonderfully awful fit for a role that demanded optimism and flexibility. The cries of Arlay behind Laela drew her attention.

“Alright, away with you. I've got a ship to find, and mother looks like she's ready to hop in the harbor.”

Our mother did indeed look at a loss as she tried to soothe the overwhelmed Arlay, with Bird clinging desperately to her leg. Laela squeezed my hand, then rushed back to our family.

I made my way through the crowd, away from my departing family, and towards the Traveler's Guild building. The guild building was easy to spot, towering over much of the market and port, five stories in the air. Not the tallest building in the city, but one of the few in the area. Tall white marble columns lined the entrance, and only the faintest hint of blue brick peered out from beneath the limewashed surface. The surrounding buildings of less importance revealed far more of their azure bricks, some of them lacking any white at all. As I drew closer, I could see a great deal of activity through the large arched windows, their painted shutters were thrown open to let in the start of the first fresh breeze the city had seen in days.

I stepped up the wide marble steps, in between the dozens of people coming and going, and into the massive arched doorway that was left open. Inside the air was thick, with just as wide an array of scents as the market, but without nearly as much open air to disperse the aroma. A large desk manned by almost a dozen eerily cheerful workers sat towards the back of the room, and people were in a queue weaving back and forth like a snake coiling up to strike. Above me people lounged on cushioned benches and chairs, visible through the balcony railing. Their conversations blended into the gentle roar of voices that filled every inch of the building. To my right the entire wall was a relief mural, carved into the blue brick wall of the building, depicting a map of the world. The ocean was the raw brick, the rest was painted in vivid colors, and Azurnia itself glowed faintly as if to remind the viewer where they were in this vast world. I turned away from the tense line of impatient merchants and travelers, and moved towards the map, into the sea of bodies crowded around it.

The island chain of Iocall, which lay just east of Azurnia, was a lush green, reminiscent of tropical foliage that dominated the islands. A detailed carving of what must have been the adventurer’s guild sat on the edge of the large central island, Akoné.

Through the constant waves of conversations all around me, however, I kept hearing over and over again. Steoria. They pointed, argued, and waxed poetically over that small northeastern continent. And, like them, I couldn’t turn away from the shimmering iridescent scar that stretched through its western side.