53rd day of the 10230th year since the passing of Kriene
Finley woke up quite late the next morning, somewhere between the ending of the eighth hour and the ninth.
Their party had gone well into the night.
Finley had been drunk for the latter part of it and remembered only intermittent flashes from then.
He was certain dancing had been there for a significant part of it, and that he partook in the activity.
He was by no means a good dancer, his understanding of beats and rhythm mediocre at best.
It did not mean he did not enjoy dancing, far from it, in fact.
He found it to be quite a delightful and liberating experience – and he remembered feeling that, despite his addled brain.
There was this sense of camaraderie mixed with that feeling, and that only heightened the happiness of it, even the residue of it.
As a result, Finley was smiling through his morning routine, even when he was brushing his teeth – as a result of which he spilled toothpaste on his night shirt.
Meh.
Can be worn again.
He thought as he hung it in his closet.
The skies were unexpectedly clear, though a brisk wind seemed to have been blowing without pause.
Deeming his cloak unnecessary, Finley donned on a blue vest along with some white flowing pants, long enough to cover part of his shoes but not to drag on the ground.
Kinamel – the laketown they were headed to – was a popular tourist spot among the farers, with the hills and even one of the mountain peaks not too far away.
The maps they had for the town showed a harbour near the northwestern part of town, where the ship had been docked (at a fair distance from the other ships) some time before Finley had woken up, in his understanding.
Through passing conversations in the corridor their rooms shared, a mutual understanding was built that everyone was too hungover for breakfast, save Linny Kiane – who was presumably in the common room still (with the most spacious couch as his bed), and had easy access to the kitchen and their food supplies should he feel hungry.
This presumption was proved true as when the drift finally appeared out on deck to dismount, the demon was already lounging about, topless and dressed in high-waisted pants.
His appearance – however – was markedly different.
His hat was black – like Alaric’s, though not as large.
His skin was a dark olive and while Finley could recognise him as clear as day with one look at his countenance – especially his eyes -, he was sure that the disguise would hold up.
And all for the better since for all they knew, communications of his abscondment were known at least in the sixty-fifth, if not the surrounding sectors as well.
Finley could only hope that the bounty on his head would be nothing major, especially since no guard had been gravely injured nor had the demon’s original crime – nor its corresponding sentence – been so severe.
It took them much less time to step out on solid land this time around, the boat docking next to a rocky beach.
Finley didn’t deign to splash about in water just yet, though Zander and Gwenyth seemed happy enough to.
Finley and others had ascended a hill next to the beach in the meanwhile.
It was high enough to give them somewhat of a vantage point to the several miles of land that lay ahead of them, all the way to the lake.
Clumps of trees were scattered in almost a pattern-like frequency throughout the laketown.
Violet grasslands and low-lying sprawling houses – two storeys or three at maximum – took up a lot of the rest, and even in the distance Finley could make out some of the larger domesticated animals – namely the bovines, ovines, equines and porcines, especially where there were herds of these.
Even from that distance, the din of merriment was unmistakable.
Amidst that enamour, something pulled his gaze away from the sight before him and he looked back at the beach.
Zander and Gwenyth had stopped and were looking at something in the distance.
As Finley’s eyes travelled with them, he found two Nuckelavees not a couple hundred feet from his driftfellows.
They were astride the water, walking upon it as if it were solid ground beneath their legs.
One of them – even from this distance – was unmistakably Nyvaeriel.
As she turned to face their general direction, Finley raised his hand in greeting.
He thought she saw it before she and her companion rode off.
With that, his driftfellows at sea level seemed to have had enough frolicking under their belt and they walked up the hill, Gwenyth arriving first.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked.
“We’ll try to find lodging.
Vacation homes seem quite abundant, though also in demand.” Callie half-murmured.
A couple of seconds later Zander face popped into view, looking a bit sweaty and red.
Finley offered him a hand which was received gratefully.
“What’s the plan guys?” he asked, only for Finley and Gwenyth to grin and Callie sighed.
“What?” he questioned defensively.
* * *
Like any liaison would, Callie had briefed them about their present stop, just as she had for Rainy Village.
And unlike the latter – which was populated by forest folk primarily – there was much to be said about the cultural nuance of the laketown.
Kinamel lay at the confluence of the Northeastern lake of Quinlac, the Licom peak, the grasslands and the coast.
A wide variety of beings converged in the laketown, primarily grassfolk, lake spirits and the like, and the Faring.
The mountain and sea creatures were more partial to their favoured habitats and deigned only infrequently to grace the town with their presence.
It was still beyond Finley’s understanding why they didn’t.
It would be a heuristic, but with Nyvaeriel and the elves Linny encountered Finley was wondering whether this altitude based divide had some other factors than mere preference and acclimatisation.
Maybe Callie would know of it – at least, she had the highest chance of knowing.
But his curiosity did not get the better of him as he silently walked with the group as they descended the hill.
Pairs of conversation formed as they did naturally, and Finley was the seventh wheel.
Not that he minded really.
There was enough variation in their surrounding creatures and plants to occupy his thoughts.
Experiencing this beauty was surely the essence – or one of the essences – of the Faring.
The people in Lament travelled in boxes, and either did not have the option or the will to take in the beauty of the journey they so willingly forsook in single-minded focus to the destination.
It was not true travel, though given how the cities of Lament were built, Finley wouldn’t want to immerse himself in those surroundings either.
It was a matter of intense debate and pondering, he was sure, whether institutions and businesses shaped practices and behaviour or the other way around.
As with most things the truth would be somewhere in the middle.
While Finley did not necessarily endorse the detached nature of the faring, it was understandable given what they were meant to be and do was at such odds with the rest of their species.
The feeling of being in isolation was only growing more significant within him since he had left Hog’s den.
Surely being in his drift’s company was fulfilling and gave some social satisfaction, but even an introvert like him felt deprived of a broader kinship he imagined the people of Lament had – or at least had the chance of having: dozens if not hundreds of friends and acquaintances, several members of their family and relatives, people they would see in their regular routines, the warmth of familiarity and belongingness.
There was no place the farers belonged.
They were the world’s, which brought with it disadvantages too.
No wonder the members of a drift were said to become close.
There literally was no one else to grow close to.
That was not a good line of thinking, to be sure.
That could only end in him perceiving his drift as a prison rather than a catalyst in his Becoming.
God knew his drift did not deserve to be perceived so negatively.
In fact, he had been very grateful to have found them, though that initial triumphal gratitude was now coloured with other things.
Such was the vagary of time and human emotions.
Soon, the grasslands and the animals – very adorable up close – took over the oppressive mood that plagued him.
Finley started to lag behind, petting a stray hen here, approaching a sheep enclosure there.
It was to his delight that rather than being told to keep up, his driftfellows noticed and even joined in these activities.
What was freedom if not being able to stop and pet domesticated animals whenever one was spotted?
The drift – growing increasingly laidback and explorative – took around a couple hours to make decent headway into the town – which they had gotten the lay of in their aimlessness -, at which point they recalled that they were supposed to secure lodging.
The very next person who passed them by – who just happened to be a Farer, well into her eighties, by the looks of it – fell victim to the barrage of questions they hit them with.
To her credit, she was indulgent and answered all of their questions with grace.
So willing she was to share her knowledge that they even got more than they had queried.
All land and houses on the shore of the Northeastern Lake could be rented through a central office.
Given that it was the beginning of the rains, there weren’t as many farers as during the summers and autumn.
It was still pretty lively in general.
Boating, swimming and cliff diving were some of the activities available on the lake, which was the size of a city.
Farmhouses seemed to be the only type of housing available, the land and domesticated animals a part and parcel of whatever they rented, though the animals did not seem to require care.
It was somewhere in the midst of all of this that Callie had realised that proper introductions had not been made from either side and sheepishly, the drift and Linny Kiane – posing as a Demetrius Longman – had introduced themselves.
Longman was quite on the nose as despite all his illusory abilities, Linny could not change his height.
While Finley himself had kept a straight face through Linny’s introduction, Venedir, Sylviane and Zander (especially the latter) were far from expressionless. This chapter was copied from novelping . com without permission.
Luckily for them, by then the farer was too busy introducing herself.
She was one Alicia Pilnay, an Allbound for the Zenith zone.
She told them they reminded them of her friends within her drift and asked them where the rest of their drift was.
“We’re all that is there.” said Venedir, to which Alicia was very surprised.
“Why are you going about making such small drifts, and why are they even allowing you?
Last I had checked, the smallest drift used to be twelve.”
“That’s our largest now.” Sylviane said and Alicia’s jaw all but went slack.
“Minimum driftfellow limit used to be eighteen in our day.” she said to much surprise of Finley and his drift.
“Eighteen?” asked Gwenyth incredulously.
“But how ever did you coordinate with so many people?
Or did you take in randoms?”
“A bit of both.
In my particular case our drift was a combination of three groups of seven, ten and twelve.”
“Woah.” said Zander.
“Twenty-nine…”
“That’s nothing, kiddo.
Drift sizes even used to go up into the hundreds in the earlier days of the drifting.”
Finley’s eyebrows arched in disbelief.
His weren’t the only ones.
“However could that be?
How big were the ships?” asked Callie.
“Big.” Finley smiled a little at the response.
“I’ve only ever seen the remnants of one but it made me think that the vessel in its full glory would have been like a floating island in magnificence… and pace.” she said and smiled a little.
“Well, that sounds pretty cool.
Why did they start reducing drift sizes?” said Venedir.
“I only have logical, well-educated guesses to share with you.
I never bothered asking the government – I didn’t interact with them much really, not that I ever wanted to- Anyway!
What I can hazard at is that they were chasing efficiency.
Despite all the talk of exploring the world, most of the drifts operate primarily in Lament.
It is home territory, negligible – if any – hostiles and monsters, everything for efficient extractions will probably be available in a radius of a few hundred leagues – let alone the same sector.
Even most of the faring schools are there itself.
And in the occasional good sense the government shows – it has managed Lament’s resources effectively, knowing that venturing outside for procurement will be difficult and costly, sometimes even improbable or impossible.
But I am glad you all are here in Apricity…” she said with a kind smile and then sighed.
“Sorry, I tend to go off on tangents when conversing on such matters.
Another reason they could have reduced drift size is to have their eggs in different baskets.
Ships losing their way, being damaged or sunk, drifts being captured or taking to rebellion, what not.
Either way, I think they’ve taken it too far, especially with seven as their lower limit, no offense.”
“It’s six actually.” Linny corrected her.
Rebellion was the word that caught Finley’s attention there.
For all they were taught of histories of the world, incidents of Faring rebellion were never mentioned in the books or classrooms.
It was a thought that wouldn’t even come to a Faring school child.
Hearing it used in such a cavalier manner brought him to interrupt, though Gwenyth had piped up before a syllable of significant volume could leave his throat.
“They never told us about Faring rebellions.
Are they common?”
Alicia smiled a little and leaned back on the fence that lined the road just a couple yards in.
Her eyes seem to shine just a little extra under the red sky.
“Our lovely government thinks they can have free spirits such as ours without consequences.
A veil lifted to eat will incite enough hunger even for the eyes.
The poor fellows.
I think they just try to keep us down for as long as possible.
They hope time, weariness, inertia and attachment will get to us.
They want us to be better but not too good for them.
This relentless need for them to control us and extract from us could never lead to anything good.
Surely something like this has happened before.
Why else would they make the Faring?
And they have been corrupting us as well… for several decades now.”
If Finley was being honest, a lot of what she said was going over his head.
He half-wondered whether they had run into a schizophrenic before rejecting the thought and chiding himself for thinking so.
She had been kind, helpful and sounded sincere.
Despite the little he knew, surely the government not being perfect was not a stretch – though they themselves had seen nothing of it- not nothing.
His thoughts were interjected with the image of the unnatural he had encountered in Youvlon.
It was not something that he had mentioned to anyone else, not even Nyvaeriel.
It could be brushed off as nothing and yet had been so disturbing.
It was quite a distinct experience to look at what was not even supposed to exist.
Surely the aspect of life and sentience had some quality to it that made some beings believe in divinities such as God.
To bestow that life – to use the word liberally -, that sentience, – that too upon something so unfeeling.
It was unnatural indeed.
It was an oxymoron to have life without feeling and the unnaturals were living – using it in the manner its base word was used priorly – proof of that.
“All of this makes it sound to me that rebellions must be happening.” Sylviane asserted fiercely.
“So why aren’t they able to make things better if the situation is so bad now?”
Alicia smiled, seemingly at the innocence and naivety of the question.
“It’s very hard to oppose the government, especially in Lament.
The Faring and the government are too integrated.
And it’s not like things are abysmal right now.
They’re good enough.
Just good enough to keep us complacent and blinded.”
“That sounds awfully bleak.” said Venedir.
“I thought the Faring was supposed to be all Wairolight and rainbows.”
“In a sense, it still is.” replied Alicia.
“But it’s not as full an experience as it was before.
Much before my time, driftfellows could have and raise families all in the comfort and freedom of their drift.
Due to their large size and lax rules and community feeling along with the general safety afforded, the drift was the village it takes to raise a child.
In my time, the freedom and mobility of the drift had taken more priority and a child was seen as a liability.
The reformation and dissolving of drifts became more common.
Drifting used to be a way of life for everyone.
Now it is not.” she said and shrugged.
“But.” said Zander.
“Doesn’t a smaller drift allow more flexibility?
It is much easier to coordinate with seven people than it is with seventy.
You’re right in the family part, of course.
But shouldn’t a smaller drift be easier to hold together logically?” Get faster updates on g.com.
Alicia gave a smile similar to the one she’d given Sylviane.
“There isn’t enough buffer between small drifts should things sour in general or specifically within a sub-group.
The buffer of a large group lessens the animosity.
You could argue it lessens the intimacy but I always felt that a human is meant to socialise widely, have a big community.
Plus it keeps things new and interesting as well.
One never feels like they’ve seen and gotten to know everything.
If one Fares for decades, you can understand that those decades can’t all be passed in the same way.
Newness is necessary for the Becoming.” she smiled as she ended.
“But seeing your expressions, I feel that there has been too much newness that I’ve introduced you to in such a short while.
It really is my fault that I’m such a terrible rambler.
But you just… you remind me of my younger self, optimistic and hopeful about the Faring – not that you shouldn’t be.
But try to make things better, and don’t let them keep you down!”
“That sounds almost revolutionary.” said Callie with a small smile.
“Not rebellious though, I hope.” Alicia replied with a grin and then patted Sylviane – who was standing right next to her.
“Since I have put such a damper on everyone’s mood, I see it as my duty to set your spirits right.
My drift and a few others are having a party with the townspeople and water beings by the lakeside tomorrow night.
Do you all drink yet?” she asked as if it were inevitable, in response to which Venedir and Finley grinned, Linny shook his head and the others gave sheepish smiles.
Alicia’s grin returned.
She really had the prettiest teeth.
“Then you’ll be happy to know that there’ll be plenty of alcohol there… and some stronger stuff as well.
Come to Pier Thirty-Seven tomorrow after dinner.” She said and pushed off the fence, leaving them there.
“I think we’re going to have quite the lovely time here.” Zander grinned.
The drift managed to get a nice two-storey villa rented in the southern part of town, near the base of Licom.
It was a hilly area, the property premises including grazing and watering lands for some sheep.
The villa itself was an old property, not built for human dimensions for sure.
The ceilings were too high, the beds too broad, the couch cushions felt like mattresses.
But all that meant that it was more than enough space for the seven of them.
All the companions’ whereabouts were unknown as of the moment so no company was really expected.
With no disruptions in their horizon – except for the mental -, the drift – after a nice little coffee break to unwind the slight tension – decided to explore the foothills of the Pillenovesian range – or the limited subset thereof they could cover.
The grass was the most beautiful shade of lavender, appearing like a sea of pink where Wairo graced the earth in his elegance, as if making her blush with his passionate warmth.
The mesas towered over them in the distance while Licom herself was nearly invisible, shrouded by her children and her cloudy admirers.
Finley grabbed himself an excited looking lamb, though the little fellow was more in the mood to run and play about then being pet.
Obligingly, Finley ran about with him for the better part of an hour, with Zander joining him in playing with the lamb somewhere in the initial minutes.
The others strolled about, stopped to pet the older and less excited sheep, and acted relatively boring in general.
He and Zander did deign to tease the others as the two of them ran about, joking about creaky joints and lack of stamina.
This convinced Linny and Gwenyth to join them.
They enlisted another lamb and a relatively active adult sheep in their games.
With the majority on their side, it wasn’t very long until the remainder of their drift relented and joined them.
And so time flew, as it often does in good company and beautiful surroundings.
Alicia’s words retreated to the back of his mind and the uneasiness created by them dissipated until he felt light and at ease again.
The rest of the morning went in traversing one of the mesas Zander had spotted earlier – relatively close to them and big enough to make a nice walk of it.
Excited to get a good hike in and motivated by the lovely view they were sure to get atop the mesa – which had a relatively flat peak -, the drift made good time.
On the way up, Finley eventually fell into conversation with Linny.
“Walking with friends is more fun than walking alone.” the demon mused.
“Though you all are pretty slow.” he grinned childishly and Finley chuckled.
“Maybe you should give us lessons.” he said.
“Hmm… no.
I’m afraid the situation is too far gone to be addressed by even an expert such as me.”
“Expert, huh?” Finley said and elbowed his side gently to tickle him.
The intended affect was realised as the demon jumped a little and shrank away.
“It’s just the truth.” he protested with a grin.
“Have you travelled in groups before?” asked Finley then.
“No.
All my travels have been solitary.”
“A pity, though I am sure there is a charm to it.”
“There is!” he exclaimed earnestly.
“It is ethereal, heavenly.
Though much of it is attributable to the beauty of the places I have been to.
There is a special feeling to be experienced when that beauty is taken in by one alone.
It is immensely gratifying and emotional.
Though that feeling of not being able to share it is a loss felt most significantly.”
“But you’re more than four decades old.
How is it that you haven’t found companionship yet?”
Linny smiled a little.
“Demon society operates a little differently from the Faring.
Our years before adulthood are spent in exploring and learning about the world.
Isolation, especially from other demons is immensely necessary to not impede the individual learning process and to let one’s journey unfold most naturally without entwining two strands of demon fates.”
“So your society of demons are fatalists?”
“Yes.
But they also understand the power of actions in dictating fate.
They want to keep it as uncoloured and pristine till adulthood.
By then our path is considered sufficiently formed and cemented to not be disturbed.
These travels are in essence a way to let fate happen to us.”
“And has fate been kind to you in these decades?”
“It has been largely fair.
There have been unkindnesses and kindnesses – you all and Alaric are the proof of the latter.” he said and smiled.
“Such fluctuations between good and bad, happiness and sadness, are part and parcel of life.”
Finley smiled warmly.
“You are wise beyond your years.
Though there is one thing I would ask.” He grinned a little.
“How exactly has Alaric been one of nature’s kindnesses?”
Linny laughed aloud.
“My friend makes it hard for one not to be skeptical of him, his motives, his intentions.
But he is good where it really counts.
His eccentricities and ways of handling things are complex contraptions, to be sure, but they really are mere indulgences of an immortal being.
I imagine I would do many strange things to escape the boredom of eternity.
It is ironic that the word itself sounds so beautiful, don’t you think?”
Finley smiled again and elbowed his side again.
“Are you sure you’re not a sagely old demon disguised as a young’un?”
Linny laughed and dodged his arm this time.
“My reflexes wouldn’t be such if I were.”