“She’s called ‘The Recovery’,” Stephandore explained as they walked along the docks with Orenda clinging to him fighting the urge to pass out. “And she’s been on the sea for nearly three centuries! Fresh coat of paint and a few repairs, and she’ll go for centuries more. There is value, you know, in old things.”

“She’s a Urillian navy ship,” Adamareyn went on, “That Steve stole when he deserted. That’s a fun story.”

“They don’t sail this model anymore,” Stephendore continued as he led Orenda up the ramp onto the deck, and continued to speak, but she couldn’t hear him. She could no longer feel the comforting grip of the heat from the middle of the world under her feet. The water, she realized, must act as a barrier.

“I need something to hold onto!” She said in the middle of his sentence, “I can’t… can’t focus, can’t see very well. The world feels as if it’s moving.”

“It is,” Tolith explained, and she tried to focus on the sound of his voice, “It always moves because the water is moving under us. You get used to it.”

“I can’t wait,” Orenda stuck out one hand to try to feel for a wall or banister or anything, but there was nothing but air, “Because I hate this. This is awful. This is the nightmare scenario. How long does it take?”

“It shouldn’t take more than a day or two,” Anilla said helpfully, “Then everything will be right as rain! I’m sure you’ll love sailing, Orenda, when you get used to it.”

Orenda wished she would learn to read the room.

“Are there only three of you?” Orenda asked, “Can you sail a ship with so small a crew?”

“Don’t be silly,” Stephandore wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “I count five!”

“I’m dying,” Orenda said as she clutched her stomach.

“Let me make you a nice cup of tea,” Anilla suggested, “In the galley.”

“And let me put a touch of rum in it,” Stephandore added, “To settle your nerves. I think a lot of it may be nerves.”

“It isn’t,” Orenda protested, “It’s the magic of the ocean. It vexes me. Also, I have an announcement to make- everyone gather round!” She paused and asked, “Have they gathered? My eyes aren’t working very well.”

“Yes, Rendy, we’re here,” Tolith sounded concerned.

“Very well,” Orenda spoke loudly, “I have never had occasion to learn the sport of swimming, and I believe that even if I had learned it intellectually, I would be unable to perform it physically. I think that, perhaps, fire elves are unable to swim, as a people. Therefore it is of the utmost importance that I avoid falling into the sea. I don’t see how I would survive it. I would appreciate it if everyone was aware of this and helped me avoid it, because I can’t see where the edges of the ship are, my stomach has descended into my intestines, and my legs cannot grow accustomed to the constant movement. I’ve never felt so useless in my life.”

“It’s ok, Rendy,” Tolith reached out a hand and cupped her face, “We’re gonna take care of you. But… if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. There are places to run on land.”

“Don’t patronize me, Toli, I’m not a child,” she snapped.

“You’ll feel better once you get your sea legs,” Anilla promised and Orenda did not believe her, “Right now you just need to sit down below deck and have a nice cup of tea.”

“We’ll be down there once we’re far enough out,” Adamareyn promised, and added, “Babe, make the ginger tea. It’s a fire elemented plant. It may settle her stomach.”

“What a good idea,” Stephendore agreed, “Come along, young ladies, we’ll get you sorted.”

Orenda clung to him and felt the atmosphere change as they walked into a room that echoed. Her blurred vision told her that it was darker here, and as they descended a narrow set of stairs she put out one hand to grab the wall.

“I don’t know how Captain Nochdifache does it,” Orenda huffed, “This is torture.”

“You said he may be your father?” Anilla asked, “I’ve heard of him, the pirate captain. They say that he sails with a crew of necromancers and clockwork men.”

“They say a lot of things,” Orenda said, “About a great many people. I hear so many different stories that almost none of them can be true. I’m sorry, I’ve been terribly rude to you. Who are you, again? I should have paid more attention, but I’m afraid I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately.”

“My name is Anilla,” She said as Orenda allowed Stephandore to lift her a little until she was sitting on what she thought was a bar stool.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Lean forward a little,” he instructed, and she did, onto what must have been the bar, “There you go, young lady. I’ll pack a pipe, as well. It’ll help to settle your stomach.”

“Thank you,” Orenda said, and her vision cleared a bit. Anilla had lit a fire, and as the heat filled the room her sickness began to dissipate enough for her to get her bearings. It did not go away completely, but it was pushed back to the peripherals.

She was in a small room with a brick stove, large washtub, and various other kitchen utensils against the wall, and a bar between that area and the door they can come through. There was an open archway beside the stove leading further into the ship, and Orenda thought from its design that the stove was not just for cooking, but also for heating. The heat would be sucked along that hall and into the depths of the ship. Anilla had put a kettle on a metal grate over the brick stove, and was humming a song Orenda had never heard before as she took down a metal tin and opened it to let the scent of the dried leaves and herbs fill the small room.

“I don’t know much about elemental magic or elves,” Anilla admitted, “Where I’m from there aren’t any elves. I think it may be too cold for them.”

“I could imagine,” Orenda said, “I’ve read about the frozen north. It’s supposed to be unlivable.”

“No,” Anilla argued, “It’s quite nice, actually. There are root vegetables that love the cold, and trees that stay green all year round, unlike in your capital where they change with the seasons. There are swaths of ice that we put blades on our boots and skate upon, and giant dragons the size of houses that lumber through the forests docile and sweet. There are foxes and bunnies and bears, seaweed to harvest from the ocean and white, fluffy baby seals that you see while you’re there. There are lights in the sky during the night that the moons dance through. The nights are so short in your land. I don’t know how you chart the stars... There are festivals and friends and all manner of great things.”

“And Xandra has never touched it,” Orenda thought aloud, “She’s never fought past the ice, snow, and wind to see what lies beyond the frozen sea.”

“We don’t see many elves,” Anilla agreed.

“Why did you leave, then?” Orenda asked as Anilla measured out the tea into a strainer and poured the boiling water through it, “If it was so nice?”

“I’m looking for my dragon,” Anilla explained as she knocked the strainer out in a barrel, refilled it, and made a second cup, then a third, “in my homeland, when a child is a born, somewhere in the world a dragon hatches at the same time. The person and dragon are soulmates, and are destined to find each other. Most people find their dragon before they can walk. No one has ever gone more than five years without finding it… before me. We think that my dragon was born a great distance away, and we’re having difficulty finding each other, so I set out into the world to look.”

“Perhaps you don’t have one,” Orenda suggested.

“If I didn’t have a dragon, I would be dead,” Anilla explained, “We’re soulbonded. You said you were a mage?”

Orenda nodded.

“When you look at me, you see my magic signature? You see how it moves and flows? How every person is different?”

Orenda nodded again.

“Well, my dragon will have the exact same soul.” Anilla explained, “We aren’t two different people; we’re two halves of a whole. Somewhere out there, my dragon is looking for me. And we will find each other.”

“That’s sweet,” Orenda said as she sipped the tea. After a beat she said, “What if you never find it?”

“I will!” Anilla said chipperly, “Anything that has been lost can be found, you just have to keep looking.”

Orenda made an affirmative humming sound and watched the liquid in her cup move with the motion of the ocean.

“It’s a little easier down here,” She said, “Which makes no sense because we’re closer to the sea. I think that perhaps it’s easier when I’m near a fire? Maybe I should start carrying a lantern about with me.”

“Maybe!” Anilla said chipperly.

As Orenda’s vision cleared she tried to focus more on Anilla’s soul, the way the magic flowed through her, the pattern it made as it moved. It seemed strangely familiar and novel all at once. It was white, a color she had never seen on a person before, but she thought that had something to do with Anilla being born in the frozen north. It was the pattern itself that felt familiar, but she couldn’t say where she had seen it. She knew it had not been on a dragon, as she could only remember ever having seen one dragon before, Gary, so long ago, and she had not known that she should be looking at his soul.

“Well,” Tolith said as he came striding into the galley, “We're officially out at sea. How are you feeling, Rendy?”

“This is a terrible place,” Orenda said, “I can't imagine anything good happens at sea. But I'm trying my best not to be contrary. I have a job to do.”

“Yes,” Tolith said, and had the tact and good manners not to bring up their contradictory goals, “Orenda... you do know about the plan, right? Back at the mage academy? That's why you left, isn't it? You know about the attack?”

“Yes,” She said to her teacup, “Or... I knew of it.”

“The sun is rising over the sea as we speak,” Tolith said, looking toward the doorway he had just come through, “And by sundown, if all goes as planned... I'll be an orphan.”

“Yes,” Orenda agreed.

“I'm sorry about my mother, Rendy,” He said, solemnly, “And... my cousin, Xandra.”

“Oh, that's right,” Orenda laughed at the ridiculousness of it, “You're part of the nobility. You're related to the empress. Tolith that's... that's insane. Edgelord Glenlen.”

“There will be no nobility at all, eventually,” He leaned over the counter, “That's the goal.”

“Here,” Stephendore handed the pipe to Orenda, “I had best go up and help Adam.”

She had nearly forgotten he was there, he had blended in so well and stayed so silent, and she wondered why he didn't put those talents to better use. He would make an amazing spy.

“I was up all night,” Tolith stretched his arms above his head, “And I imagine I'll be awakened when Ali scries you? Please? Let me know how everything went. But for now I must get some rest. Our goal is one that can come upon us at any time.”

“Right,” Orenda said, thinking he was taking his mother's death far more casually than he had his father's. She thought that there was a lot to unpack there. “Where will I be sleeping?”

“Dealer's choice,” he shrugged, “All our sleeping cabins are full. You can bunk with me or Anilla.”