Qinran sat in the small room. It was wood, and there were two beds. It hadn’t been anything elaborate. Like most rooms Qinran had been in, it was just a room. He sat in the center of his bed. The firm mattress was to his liking, although he could see himself sleeping anywhere with ease. He was trying to visualize the mana that floated around him, to no avail. If anything, he was only seeing the inside of his own eyelids. He had a little more ability to see his internal mana system. He had somewhat become familiar with the patterns that his internal mana flowed and was trying to find patterns around him.

He had been in this room for three days while Omar went to the docks looking for passage. He would occasionally Qinran had stopped keeping his head wrapped inside the room on the second day. The heat was a little uncomfortable. Things might get a little better when they leave the jungle, but he was annoyed with the whole process. He could feel his mind drifting as he continued not having success with his magic training. He opened his eyes and moved out of his meditative pose, lying on the bed. He wasn’t having any success. Omar might be able to help better guide his training when they started across the ocean.

Qinran never felt right just walking on the land. The floating island followed the waves and would gently rock. Things feeling so firm beneath his feet just felt wrong. He wanted to be on the water again.

He pulled himself off the bed and stood. He wrapped the head wrap around his head. He was careful to hide his ears, mouth, and dark hair. He next put on his cloak. It felt a little stifling, but he wanted to go outside again. If he couldn’t be on the ocean it would at least make him feel better to stare at it.

Most people in the trade outpost ignored him, however he did have increased scrutiny by the guards. He was looking forward to a month at ocean. Omar was doing something to get more of the strange paper currency. Qinran understood Omar’s people with their coins. Qinran’s own people used coins. The fact the people of The Second Tower used paper was ridiculous. Omar said that each note was serialized and imprinted with a mana signature that was unique to the tower. Qinran could only take his word for it as he hadn’t been able to see any such thing. Most humans from the tower lands could easily see the mana used for the notes. Qinran was a little annoyed with this fact.

Qinran had been walking himself towards the docks as he thought. A few guards had been tailing him. Qinran had been aware of them following him and he darted down an alley between some warehouses. Qinran could probably fight them and win, but it wasn’t a good idea. He stopped moving when a few more guards started to come from the opposite side. Qinran moved his hands slowly toward his daggers. A door burst open.

“Ah! There you are!” A booming friendly voice said.

Large arms wrapped around him, and caught Qinran off guard.

“You should have just used the front door,” the voice continued as Qinran was pulled inside.

The door was quickly closed and locked.

“Alright lets get a look at you,” the man said giving Qinran an appraising look.

Qinran was still on guard and was now surrounded by two elves and three humans.

“Elf, lets see your face,” the man said.

Qinran found himself looking at the other elves. They seemed to be relaxed. Qinran decided to trust them and started to unwrap the cloth around his head.

“Ah, you’re from the sea.”

Qinran’s took the time to remove the rest of the cloth. He hated wearing it and it was already too late.

“I’m from the floating island.”

Qinran saw most of the group flinch, but the large man stood firm.

“I’ve decided, you’re a part of my crew. You probably don’t have much time left here.”

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“I have a friend, a human boy,” Qinran said, “He’ll need to come with me.”

“Is he looking to get to the tower?” The man asked.

Qinran nodded.

The large man sighed, “Don’t play cards with him.”

“Don’t get in a fight with him.”

The man had a complicated look on his face and then sent one of the workers to fetch Omar. He had been spending his time looking to book passage and then gambling. In his three days at the docks he had obtained quite the reputation.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” the large man said, “I’m Captain Heber Camm.”

“My name is Qinran.”

The rest of the crew introduced themselves and were quick to get back to work. The captain stopped one of the men.

“Go get his things,” He thought a moment and added, “If anything is missing I’ll be upset.”

Qinran followed their direction and started to load the ship with the rest of them.

—

Corin had started calling the elders and the mage his children in his head. It felt right to him. Daman had taken to following Corin around as they went through the camp. Corin didn’t mind the company. He was certainly more interesting to talk to than Amil had been. The wight was practically a wall most times. He was helpful, sure. He was also loyal. Becoming a wight made him different and unknowable. Where did the insane degree of loyalty come from? Corin didn’t know. Their loyalty as well as of a few other facts had made them useful.

Corin couldn't understand how mages were generally ignored by society and left to their own devices. The unnamed man had opened up strange and interesting avenues of research. Daman hadn’t been sure what had caused mages to use scrolls as triggering methods for spells. History had shown that there were a variety of other methods that had been used five hundred years ago. Mages suddenly stopped using them for some reason. Corin had learned there were long and exhaustive histories written by mages but in every collection the actual techniques were destroyed. The unnamed man had been useful in restoring their power.

The Venerable Razors had finished their preparations and everyone was getting antsy to leave. Daman had ordered a bulk of the mages to follow Corin along for the trip to Fetahken. They were making the best of the remaining couple of days before they would all leave. A few soldiers decided to settle down in the oasis. With the elders transformed the tensions eased. Cordus would remain and the other two elders would go with Daman and Corin.

Corin would train the elders in combat. It would take a few weeks to arrive at Fetahken and some training was better than no training. Being a soldier was a lot of boring with brief bits of excitement. He was looking forward to the fighting. He could get the same sense from his children. The thought of his children seemed a little alien. Both Daman and Ezra were older than he was, but he could feel a great connection to all of them.

When the day finally arrived, they set out to cross the desert. Fetahken was partially built into a small range of mountains. The city itself was rumored to have been built by dwarves far in the past. It would be hard to circle and it had a great defensive position with tall thick walls protecting the interior of the city. The mountains were barren as were the lands around it. What sustained the city was a series of underground farms that were maintained by a few subterranean rivers. The city would be able to withstand a siege for quite some time. Corin had a plan. He was also confident in his soldiers.

The mountains grew closer as their steady pace continued. Corin found a spot outside the walls, just far enough to keep them safe from any ranged attacks and set up camp. The soldiers were quick with putting up their tents with practiced efficiency. They began to wait. The city’s gates were locked tight. They had been prepared for something. It made sense that they were cautious. Anyone that closed their doors to a large group marching forward was making the right choice.

Daman had gathered fifty mages and fired spells over the city, flashing multiple color patterns. When they had finished they peppered the walls with some of their mana orbs. There had been a few scattered attacks on them, but nothing that would put the mages into any danger. When night came, there hadn’t been any retaliation. The mages repeated their actions every day for a week. There had been a few deaths from an unlucky spell, but for the most part the mages remained untouched. A caravan from a neighboring city had been captured and the supplies and men had been forced to join The Venerable Razors.

The routine of the mages flashing colors above the city and peppering the walls with other offensive spells remained. The routine was boring. There was a general unease that had grown in the camp. Everyone was ready to spring into action. At night, Corin continued to dream of spinning gears of impossible size forgotten far beneath the earth. He talked to his children, they did not share his dreams. The mages set out for another round of harassing the wall and escaping before they could get caught. It happened. A flash of solid yellow. The soldiers were ready and each mounted up and charged at the wall. The gates opened ponderously slow. Corin was in the lead. It was dangerous, but it was what he wanted. The waiting was too much. An unfamiliar feeling filled Corin as he charged toward the city. Another grin crossed his face as he was the first inside. The city was unprepared.