On the first day of sailing from Hawaii, we had perfect conditions: smooth sea, good wind in the right direction, but not too strong, and excellent visibility. Al took the helm, so I sat on the back deck, took out my guitar, and began composing the songs I had written in the poetry workshop. I was in a great mood and wanted something rhythmic, so I played and stomped my feet to give myself rhythm and played the guitar to build the song.

When I was in the final stages of working on the first song, Mahya joined me and started clapping along with the music, adding a slightly more complex beat of her own. When I completed the song, I played it from the beginning, and we both sang it with huge smiles.

Sometimes, it’s great to be alive.

For the second song, I wanted it to be more tranquil, to convey the sea’s calm. So, with a slower beat from Mahya, I completed both songs. I still felt like playing music, so I took out my cello and started playing and stomping my feet regularly to give myself rhythm. I played nothing known or learned; just improvised and enjoyed the music. At some point, I noticed I had a tune for a song. I didn’t have the lyrics yet, but I had the melody. That’s how half of the first day passed until I had to replace Al at the helm.

The first time I called Alfonsen Al, he looked at me with a murderous look and said, “Please don’t do that.”

“Come on,” I replied, shrugging casually. “Your name is long, complicated, and strange to most people.” I gestured vaguely as if listing reasons. “And that’s with Earth having the name Alphonse, which helps it pass somewhat.” I raised an eyebrow. “Elsewhere, there’s no way. Al is short and sweet, and sounds like an abbreviation of a name that could be universal.” I crossed my arms, giving him a teasing grin.

He still looked unconvinced, but after a minute, he sighed deeply and nodded. Still, every time Mahya or I called him Al, he cringed.

While holding the helm, I started playing with lyrics for my created melody. It took me a while, but finally, I had a song, and I was humming it and looking at the lyrics to verify that they fit together when my mana threw me a curveball. It was a good one, but still a curveball. I felt the telltale sign, the clenching of my being, my essence, and then the unclenching, and a wave passed through my body.

I immediately checked my mana: 9900/10,200.

My mana went up by 300 units. I looked at my orbs, and my Spirit orb showed progress. That was a great surprise, but also odd. My connection to the wind unlocked something in me and enabled me to create. Since the wind was part of the Mind power center, I expected it would be in the Mind orb if there were a change. Lis had mentioned that creativity had a connection to the Spirit orb. Still, the wind helped and nudged me in the right direction.

Mahiya came running over, wide-eyed. “What just happened?”

“My mana went up,” I said.

“Again? How? Your mana’s already off the charts!” She exclaimed, hands on her hips.

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Triple mana system.”

She shook her head, a look of annoyance on her face. “Lucky dog.”

I frowned and leaned against the helm. “Something doesn’t add up. I’ve written four songs, lyrics, and melody, but my Bard class hasn’t progressed. Isn’t that weird?”

She tilted her head, thinking. “Maybe people need to hear the songs?”

I rolled my eyes. “What, you and Al don’t count?”

She laughed, shrugging. “Maybe more people need to hear them? Who knows. Half the time, the Guidance gives me a class; it’s a total surprise. Even when I’m trying to get a certain class, stuff I think will count doesn’t, and random things do.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “This entire class system is so confusing. I wish there were a manual or at least some tips from the system on how to get specific classes. It’s frustrating just fumbling around in the dark.”

She stepped closer and started massaging my shoulders. “Everyone in all the integrated worlds agrees with you. But the Guidance is what it is. Just keep working towards your goal. It’ll happen eventually.”

I sighed deeply, looking down at my feet. It was annoying and a bit depressing. At least I had another new song.

Waves of Wanderlust

Through the misty morning, I set my sail

On a path unknown, where dreams prevail.

The ocean’s whisper, a call so deep,

In its gentle embrace, my heart finds peace.

Chorus:

Waves of wanderlust, they carry me,

To distant shores, where I’m meant to be.

With every stomp, my spirit’s free,

In the dance of the sea, my soul’s decree.

The cello’s hum, like a seabird’s cry,

Echoes the longing in the endless sky.

Each step a story, each note a plea,

In the rhythm of tides, I find my destiny.

As the stars align, on the ocean’s crest,

I chase the horizon, with a heart at rest.

The journey’s the answer, the quest is me,

In the song of the sea, I find my key.

Chorus:

Waves of wanderlust, they carry me,

To distant shores, where I’m meant to be.

With every stomp, my spirit’s free,

In the dance of the sea, my soul’s decree.

With a raspy whisper, the sea and I,

Together we wander, beneath the sky.

In the cello’s serenade, I find my home,

In the waves of wanderlust, forever I roam.

The following two days of sailing were also perfect, with excellent wind and a calm sea, so we pushed the engine almost to the max, and with the sails, we approached San Francisco on the evening of the third day. This took me entirely by surprise. Even with the excellent sailing conditions, I was sure it would take at least one more day.

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I didn’t want to go into San Francisco Bay because that would have forced us to leave the boat there, so we continued sailing along the coast south, looking for a good place to store the boat and get to shore with the E-foils. Around one or two in the morning—I was unsure of the time without a phone—I believed I had discovered a suitable location and retrieved my binoculars to confirm that nobody was nearby or could observe us from the shoreline.

In the distance, I saw a light approaching us in a straight line, as if they knew we were there. I urgently told Mahya and Al, “Let’s change our glamour and conjure American documents. Rue, change glamour.”

I paid the mana for Rue’s and mine’s glamour and also for our documents, and of course, a document showing that he was a working dog.

A coast guard boat approached us and stopped very close to our boat, its engine humming steadily in the calm night waters. A man called out from the boat, his voice carrying easily over the short distance. “Why did you stop?”

“Looking for a good place to drop anchor to sleep for a few hours,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady and casual.

“Are you sure you’re not smuggling drugs?” he asked, his tone a mix of authority and suspicion.

“One hundred percent,” I answered confidently.

“Do you mind if we come aboard to check?” he continued, already signaling to his colleague.

“Feel free to look,” I said, gesturing towards the deck.

The man who had been speaking to me, along with another officer and a large German Shepherd dog, boarded our boat. The dog sniffed the air and wagged its tail as it padded around while the officers checked each room systematically. Rue tried to befriend the dog, but it wasn’t interested. The officers saw that and chuckled.

“Can I see some identification, please?” the first officer asked, returning to me.

“Of course,” I said, handing him my new passport, which now identified me as John Mitchell, along with Rue’s papers, including his vaccination records and seizure alert dog certificate.

The officer scrutinized the documents. “Where are you sailing to?”

“San Diego.”

“And where are you coming from?” He asked.

“Hawaii,” I said, watching his expression for any hint of disbelief.

“That’s quite a trip,” he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Very much so,” I said, smiling. “But unfortunately, we must return to work and life.”

He laughed, patting me on the back. “There’s nothing you can do, son. That’s life. Sorry to bother you, but I don’t recommend you drop anchor here—the currents are too erratic. You’ll reach Half Moon Bay if you sail another mile up the coast. The conditions there are much better.”

“Thank you very much,” I said, genuinely grateful for the advice. “I would invite you for a drink, but we are exhausted after a long day of sailing and just want to find a place to stop for a few hours.”

“Don’t worry, son,” he said kindly. “Everything is fine. Go anchor and get some sleep.”

With that, they finished their inspection, found nothing amiss, and left our boat as smoothly as they had arrived. We waved them off and adjusted our course, relieved to have had such a straightforward encounter.

When we reached Half Moon Bay, the sea was much calmer. I even thought Rue would have no problem with the small boat. We sailed to the center of the bay and turned off all the lights. I adjusted my eyes to the dark and rechecked with the binoculars. The beach, at least what I could see of it, looked deserted, and there were no boats around. I took out the biggest boat I had from my collection of small boats, we all got off the big boat, and I stored it. We got on the E-foils and surfed to the beach.

In a hidden corner, we dried off and changed clothes. I checked on my phone, and we walked to Quality Inn Half Moon Bay. The next morning, we took a bus to Daly City BART Station and, from there, a train to San Francisco.

On the way, I checked for any news from the Traveler, but there was nothing. According to my calculations, he was supposed to arrive in New York today, so I decided to check again later.

I turned to Mahya and said, “Hey, we need to buy a car.”

She raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Weren’t we going to fly the balloon to Nevada?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure we can fly the whole way. A car would be perfect, and we can always store it.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “If there are no people around.”

I frowned, thinking about it. “True, it can be tricky around here. Maybe renting a car would be better. That way, we can tell the rental company where to pick it up after we take off in the hot air balloon.”

“Will they agree to that?”

“If we let them know in advance, I think they might.”

Mahya seemed deep in thought, and after a while, she nodded as if to herself and said, “I have a solution. I wanted it to be a surprise, but maybe practicality is more important. I bought a two-seater ATV for you and Rue. It’s not Magitech, so you’ll need gas. I’ll ride with Al on his motorcycle—mine’s mostly in parts.”

My eyes widened with excitement. “Wow, thank you! But I don’t think ATVs are allowed on regular roads.”

Her face fell, brows furrowed. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. I think renting a car for now is our best bet. Then we can buy a truck for longer trips. We have a long drive north to Canada to reach the Gate we aim for.”

She nodded, agreeing with the plan. Meanwhile, Al had been quietly listening to the entire conversation. I asked him, “What do you think, Al?”

He shrugged casually. “I have no opinion. I trust you.”

“Alright then, let’s do it.”

When we arrived in San Francisco, I called major hotels looking for a three-bedroom suite but couldn’t find anything suitable. After checking Airbnb, I found a four-bedroom apartment in the Castro. I was sure Al would be thrilled.

When I rechecked the archive in the early evening, I saw a message from the Traveler.

Tr. SS

Greetings, John Rue.

I arrived in New York safely. Given my lack of experience with technological worlds, I will require a few days to acclimate and become comfortable here. I would greatly appreciate it if you could help me find the best way to get to Las Vegas. Be specific if possible. Your instructions on how to get to the ship provided some assistance, but they were not specific enough. Naturally, I will notify you when I begin my journey in that direction.

Taking my computer out, I searched for the best route and sent him instructions.

Tr. JR

Hello, Sonak Susil.

I apologize for not providing detailed enough instructions. I hope this time I have managed a better job.

1. Take the Train from New York to Chicago

* Departure: Penn Station, New York City

* Arrival: Union Station, Chicago

* Duration: Approximately 19-20 hours

2. Take the Train from Chicago to Los Angeles

* Departure: Union Station, Chicago

* Arrival: Union Station, Los Angeles

* Duration: Approximately 43-44 hours

3. Take a Bus from Los Angeles to Las Vegas

· Option 1: Greyhound Bus

* Departure: Greyhound Bus Station, Los Angeles

* Arrival: Greyhound Bus Station, Las Vegas

* Duration: Approximately 6-7 hours

· Option 2: Megabus

* Departure: Union Station, Los Angeles

* Arrival: RTC South Strip Transfer Terminal, Las Vegas

* Duration: Approximately 5-6 hours

Additional Tips:

Booking Tickets: It’s best to book your train and bus tickets in advance through the Amtrak, Greyhound, and Megabus websites. If you’re unfamiliar with the process, request assistance at your hotel’s reception. They are usually happy to help.

Overnight Stay: To break up the trip, consider an overnight stay in Chicago, Los Angeles, or even both, depending on your schedule and preferences.

We had a few days until he would feel ready to travel, so it was time to enjoy San Francisco.