Calder had never been a seaman, only taking occasional trips to neighboring nations on diplomatic inquiries with his father. Even then, he always preferred to travel by land. The ship lurched forward again, and his pale knuckles gripped the bars of his cage. Eren, Ahri, and Lilith hadn’t complained in days, and he didn’t want to sour the mood any more than the stench of fish already did.

A booming crack reverberated throughout the hold as a gruff voice called to the only known passenger. “We land in an hour.” Without waiting for a response, the door slammed shut.

Calder sighed and brushed back his black hair. Sweat clung to his drenched tunic, and he was sure it smelled dreadful too. “Eren, Ahri, Lilith, are you up?”

A hand appeared above the barrels and gave a thumbs up. Calder quickly recognized it as Eren’s. The only hand he has left. The terrible thought had haunted him for the whole trip, but he knew one day he would have to accept it. Once sacrifices were made there was no use in being captive by them.

“Come over here, but be quiet. I must explain the procedures for when we dock.”

Three white-haired figures emerged from their hiding place. Eren’s arm was still bandaged, but he looked less pale than when he arrived. Ahri and Lilith still looked green in the face. The sea had treated them less kindly than Calder. Lilith put on a stronger face than the other girl. She was better at putting on a facade than Ahri, yet it was still nothing more than that; a pale lie. The trip had taken a toll on all of them.

They gathered around, and Calder cleared his throat. It felt like the humid air wanted to choke him. “We will be landing at a port city named Tearkin. It’s the largest one in Suratori.”

“You knew where we were heading this entire time?” Lilith’s tone suggested she was frustrated, yet her tired face didn’t have the strength to show it.

“Exile for one in a high-ranking position is more structured than most people would think. I am still an asset to Obsidius, and they can’t lose track of their assets.”

“Okay, but why Suratori?” Eren scratched at his bandages and flinched when he got a little too close to the wound.

“They have a pact of non-aggression with Obsidius. It was my great-grandfather who forged the treaty after the battle of the Red Dawn. The day Obsidius and Suratori united against the people from the heavens and misted the morning sky with their blood. Since that day they haven’t attacked Suratori in nearly 350 years. In fact, I would even . . .”

“Wait, did you say people from the sky,” Eren said.

Calder raised an eyebrow. “Yes, the nation of Whiuca. It’s clearly marked on common maps. A nation of floating isles is not incredibly unusual.” The three Stellapuer stared at him in a mix of disbelief and wonder. Despite his fondness for them, Calder had to remind himself their experiences were worlds apart. “That's beside the point,” he continued. “I will be housed somewhere in Tearkin and likely under close watch. As part of the ancient agreement, Suratori deals with the people Obsidius does not want to. Until we make it to my new residence I need each of you to remain hidden. Stellapeur may not be treated with the same disdain as in Obsidius, but the proclivities of Suratori’s people are not too different. That is to say, you have no protection by law.”

Ahri shivered under her ragged cloak, yet the damp air still made sweat run down her head. Her pleading eyes looked at him and wavered in faith. Calder knew the burden he was taking on. Their lives were his responsibility, yet knowing was only half the battle.

“We dock in less than an hour. I trust each of you to find a suitable hiding place.” He let his hands fall from the metal bars and took a deep breath to settle his stomach. “Stay near me and all will be okay.”

Eren nodded and they returned to the barrels. The ship made landfall as sure as a church bell ringing at midday. There were calls above to fasten ropes and to pull the vessel into port. It seemed the sailors were eager to be rid of their passengers. A burly man with his shirt half open came bounding down the stairs. With all the noise he made Calder could have presumed the man was falling instead. Several seamen followed behind and began to grab the surrounding barrels. Calder held his breath, waiting for his secret companions to be revealed, yet as the last barrel was taken only dirty floorboards remained. A smile of relief appeared on his face.

“What’s got you going? Smiling like a man escaped from the Doldrums.” The sailor muttered as he fiddled with a ring of keys.

Calder wiped the smile from his face. “It’ll be nice to see the sun.”

“And you need it.” The sailor gave a hearty laugh that overcompensated for his lackluster joke.

The cage clicked open, and Calder groaned as he stretched his legs. They were stiff after being cooped up for several weeks. The days had been lost to him, but time was of little concern. The future would come in the moment he wished it to.

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The captain, or at least he surmised the man before him was, stepped aside and bent his body in a mocking bow. A smirk appeared on the man's face as Calder’s legs trembled with each step. Calder straightened and shot back a similar expression with less conceit. “Must I go out there in cuffs or perhaps my hands tied behind my back? It makes one wonder how our nation is perceived.” The captain's face became stone. “Yet a practical and robust man, such as yourself, wouldn’t bother with the politics of lords and ladies. They are superficial and distant, but the opinions of the common folk aren’t. When a man stares you in the face any smart fellow would consider his opinion. How many eyes will we see on the dock?”

“Nothing of the sort,” the captain grumbled. “I had no intention to. I follow orders and make the better judgment when needed.”

“Is this cage one of your better judgments?”

“No, it was your father’s. He said nothing of bringing you off the ship in cuffs.”

Calder wobbled again, yet this time he couldn’t blame his weak legs. His mind raced, a thread of thought flowing through the void. Until he cut the thread short before it wove another tapestry. He was done trying to picture his father’s mind.

“Then let us depart,” Calder said.

The captain nodded and then lumbered up the stairs. As he pushed the heavy hatch open, rays of sun stung Calder’s eyes. White light filled his vision, and salty air smacked his face. The cries of birds sounded across the harbor, and the hum of people was a comfort he had missed. Taking a deep breath, Calder welcomed the ocean air. It was much less stifling than the air below or even the rank air of Obsidius. Several men rushed across the deck as the captain gave them glares or a flick of his wrist. Each motion and stare held a command behind it that immediately sent them scurrying to do the required task.

Calder put his hand to brow and shielded his eyes from the morning sun. The gleaming white stoned port did nothing to help his vision adjust. Dark red and blue sloped roofs crowded together and only got denser further into the city. Occasionally, a building was crowned by an open terrace. The structures pushed up against a shear coastline that stretched almost beyond his vision, on either side, before veering to the south. The island was large, but it had its limits. Limits that the people of Suratori had pushed to the edge. Off to his left, the city inclined to a point. Among the bleached stonework, gold and shining silver graced the hill. A streak of alabaster blue, much more regal than the dirty sea of colored rooftops below, snaked its way through the upper city. Even though he was not intimately familiar with the ways of Suratori nobles, the signs of their presence were not lost on Calder.

A small crowd had formed at the bottom of the gangway. Most were dressed in loose clothing that seemed to hang from their bodies. Some wore trousers that puffed out at the calf and tied near the ankle. Most wore thin shirts that covered too much considering the warm weather. A few wide conical straw hats dotted the crowd. Some even wore flowing robes of silk marked with simple patterns. A few had curled cranes marking their backs. The robes were few and Calder deduced likely worn by wealthy merchants.

Most of the people at the harbor went about their business and paid no heed to the exiled prince. Calder stood tall even though his knees quivered as he stepped down the slanted gangway. As the captain passed, Calder shifted to the side. He was sure the man would have gladly shoved his way past if he hadn't.

“Wait here. Your escort’s late.” The captain continued to murmur until his frustrations burst on an unfortunate young man struggling to keep his grip on a piece of cargo.

Calder took the opportunity to locate his companions. A few crates filled with grain were to his left alongside several small polished boxes of wood. To his right several thick rugs were rolled tightly and stacked into a pyramid. A few paces from the rugs the scent of preserved fish drifted to his nose. The barrels he had become all too acquainted with were the source. One of the wooden lids shifted, and a tuft of white hair appeared. Calder gave a subtle nod, and the lid was quickly put back in place.

He strolled across the docks until he arrived at the barrels. Settling his back against one of the smooth surfaces, he breathed an exhausted sigh. Now, how will they make it to my residence? They can’t be seen, but I have no need for this fish, and my lack of regal power compels people to question my actions. I cannot simply command the captain to give his cargo to me. Calder curled his legs up and rested his forearms on his knees. The captain was still off berating another of his crewmates. Think, think. You had weeks to think why didn’t you come up with a plan then? Wait, slow down, perhaps . . .

A crate of grain came crashing down and scattered across the pavement as a young man with brown hair burst through the crowd. The thief held one of the polished boxes in his hands before Calder could notice him taking it. Several short swords were drawn in quick succession of each other, but the young man was nearly back into the crowd. People parted, some nearly falling into those behind them, and the young man welcomed his new path. As the realization of the event took hold of the fuming captain, the thief dived off the harbor and into the blue below.

Calder’s gaze remained fixed on the sea as the captain barked obscenities at the hired security, The water churned with the rocking of the boats as he looked for any disturbance in its natural patterns. Near the end of the docks, white hair emerged from the water. I could have sworn it was brown, Calder remarked, almost letting the thought become a whisper. The young man wiped his hair back as brown pigment washed off the ends.

“Dye. How interesting.” Perhaps there was a way to get the Stellapuer to his new home.

Calder knocked on the barrel behind him.

“What’s going on?” Eren responded.

“There was a thief that stole some cargo. I want you three to follow him. He’s a Stellapuer like you and just escaped from the West harbor. Stay out of sight. If possible bring him to me. If not don’t let him out of your sight. I will find a way to contact you when I’m settled, but for now, trust me.”

There was a brief pause then a muffled “okay.”

The future would bend to his will as he commanded. It conspired in ways Calder wouldn’t claim to know. The Stellapuer had bent to fate for far too long. Now it was his turn to see if he could bend it back.