The Serendipity submitted their drift details embarrassingly late, in the latter half of the eleventh hour.
They were subjected to several looks and a couple of snide comments from the Faring and Government administration staff.
“Perhaps they were planning on sticking around for the next batch.” One of the government officials – a balding man – had commented on the group’s lack of experience which was exacerbated by the fact that they were exactly at the lower limit for the number of drifters.
Zander thought that he had felt this comment more deeply than the others.
As he should.
He felt near useless at this point.
Navigation was the most important role in a drift and his drift had been inflicted with him, though it wasn’t like they could have gotten a more experienced Nav at that point in time.
It was his misfortune and theirs.
He had joined their drift because they seemed to need him, and because he was selfish, afraid that he’d not find a drift, and even if he would, that would be unknown and perhaps even worse than what he had in this drift of his.
It was all made worse due to the nature of their starting sector – one of the most infested with monsters and their like – which they were expected to brave with just two years of combined navigation experience, which was essentially a year and some change due to the fact that it was divided in two rookies who would have had significant overlap in experience and learning.
While in the moment, Zander had – with no lack of enthusiasm – suggested the name Serendipity for their drift.
It seemed in poor taste as they walked towards one of the smaller rooms in the castle for being apprised with respect to their first assignment, being led by a government official who was called Mr.
Corroway.
It was a bit peculiar that a Faring task be explained to them by someone who was of the government.
Maybe he had been a Farer before transitioning to this new life of his.
Some of the others were in conversation – Venedir and Gwenyth more animated than Callie and Sylviane.
Only Finley seemed a bit aloof like Zander himself.
Naturally they had ended up walking side by side as the corridors narrowed a bit in the upper floors.
“So…” Zander started.
Finley jumped a little, clearly not expecting any interaction from Zander’s end.
Zander wondered whether his impression had solidified as an introvert in Finley’s mind in such little time.
It was also around this time that Zander realised that he hadn’t thought of what to talk about before he started speaking.
This led to a brief silence where Zander cursed internally before speaking in a rush as it came to him.
“You are a Forged!” Finley nodded as Zander continued.
“It’s so rare that people commit to one thing for all of their Faring studies, especially not to nature!” He exclaimed and then backtracked a little seeing the look on Finley’s face.
“I meant… out of the limited number of Forged I’ve seen, most were Navs -” It hurt him to say that.
“or Fighters.”
“It’s true… being an environmentalist doesn’t have that charm to it for most.” Finley chuckled dryly.
“It even sounds boring.” Zander expected bitterness in his tone but it was lacking.
“Did it have a charm for you?
What made you stick with it so long?
Didn’t you want to try something else, ever?” Finley shrugged.
“It just… didn’t feel less novel with time.
Sure, there’s a lot to learn and doing environmental stuff isn’t the most glamorous or exciting, but nature’s nice for the most part.
It becomes more than aesthetics once you know more and more of it.
And it does not have a narrow focus.
I’d even argue that it’s the most holistic out of all of them.
I got to learn a fair bit of foraging – and subsequently cooking -, navigation and building but more nature focussed.” Zander’s ears caught the word navigation.
“You can navigate?”
“As a complementary skill.
It’s necessary, and enhances my core skillset.
Actually, I believe all roles can be made more holistic and interdisciplinary.
And perhaps our faring is the best place to bring that out.
Also…” His voice grew a bit more serious and he slowed a little, looking at Zander.
“I know that you may be… apprehensive, given your lack of specialisation and the role you’ve been assigned, but I think it could be much more than a silver lining that you have one year each of five different disciplines under your belt.
I think that you’ll be a better navigator than you or the others-” He gestured ahead.
“might think.”
“Thanks.” Zander muttered.
“That makes me feel better.” It did.
“But I’ll still need all of you guys’ help to get through it.
I don’t think I could do it alone.”
“We’ll be there, of course.” Finley said with a small smile.
“Hopefully we won’t fuck it up too much.” Zander said.
“Yeah… but how do we know if we’ve fucked it up too much?
Like, what’s the boundary?”
“Maybe if we get relegated to assimilation…”
“Yeah, obviously.
So not getting fired is our hard limit then?”
“I mean, not getting killed is also something to target.”
“Oh yeah… good point!”
Zander was about to accept the compliment with gratitude when he noticed Sylviane and Callie looking at them.
He caught some judgement in that look.
“What?” he said defensively.
“Nothing at all.
Your standards for the faring are just…” Sylviane said.
“Inspirational.” Callie said and Sylviane burst into laughter just for a moment, enough for the others to look back as well.
When they’d turned back, Finley spoke.
“Given the kind of drift we have, it’s best to be more realistic.
If we get this assignment done in time without sustaining major injuries, we’ll be okay, right?”
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds less funny and more depressing.” Callie said and sighed.
“It’s how it is.” Finley said simply.
“We’ll make the most of it.” said Sylviane.
* * *
The briefing room was not quite so small as had been speculated by Zander.
It was a room large enough to seat nearly fifty, near one end of which lay a projecting device that cast a map of the Sixty-fifth onto a screen, not so visible at the moment because of the light pouring in through the windows.
“Draw the curtains.” Mr.
Corroway instructed.
Venedir and Gwenyth – being in front – set off to do the same.
Zander and the others walked towards the end with the map, Finley closing the door with an audible click.
Zander looked back.
“He didn’t ask to close it.”
“He didn’t ask us not to.” Finley replied with a grin.
Zander sighed in amusement, his lips curling ever so slightly.
“Keep up, guys.” Sylviane called teasingly.
“Don’t get lost back there.”
“I’m not that bad of a navigator.” Zander muttered quite audibly, leading to a bit of laughter echoing around the room.
When all six of them were seated, Mr.
Corroway gestured to the map with a small ruler that had been kept on the table.
Zander wondered if that was the purpose of said stationery item when the official spoke.
“Do you all know what this map shows?” There was a series of nods all around.
“Well?” He questioned.
A couple of his driftfellows looked at him, as if expecting him to answer.
Why him, though?- Ohhhhh.
“The sixty-fifth sector.” He blurted.
Of course, he was the bloody navigator.
“Great.
So all hope is not lost.
This-” He pointed to one of the islands on the bottom right “-is Youvlon, where we are.
Given the nature of your drift, your main task is an easy one.” Zander had a choice to take offense or be relieved at his words.
He chose the latter.
His driftfellows were of similar mind.
Lucky.
He would not have liked any boastfulness or overconfidence to land them in a soup.
“You all will go to northern Rhefalt… here.” He pointed to the island in the bottom left corner of the map.
“We are facing troubles with obsidian supply from the island.
There are eleven peaks on the island and you’ll go to the northernmost one.
Deal with whatever problems are specific to that peak.
You’ll bring a consignment of obsidian from there to Noirskov to the city of Plemos.
You’ll see some aspects of city life, guided by one of the Waykeepers stationed there.
Meanwhile, the forgery will use the obsidian to make weapons and armor, some of which will be kept by the city guard, the rest given to you to transport to Wheelbarrow.
From there, you return to Youvlon with proper documentation and records for assessment by the officials present, who will then decide your future in the Faring.” He said, tracing every step of the journey for their understanding.
Zander’s eyes did not leave the screen even for a moment.
He realised then that Mr.
Corroway had stopped speaking and was looking at them expectantly.
Maybe they were supposed to ask questions.
An awkward silence ensued for a few seconds before Venedir spoke.
“So uh… do we have a time limit with respect to this assignment?”
“No.
Due to weather and local conditions, it is really not fair for us to specify limits.
Adding to that, many drifts engage in some additional assignments on the side on a voluntary basis so that will naturally take up extra time.
Basis your documentation of work done and the conditions surrounding said work, the evaluating officials will decide whether the time taken by a drift met a level of minimum efficiency that is deemed sufficiently competent.
It’s subjective and it would not make sense for me to give you even a ballpark figure.
The Farings have always been unpredictable.
It’s part of their charm.
Oh… how I miss it.”
“You used to be a Farer?” Venedir asked.
He did realise how redundant a question he had asked by the end of it, which reflected in his tone.
“Yes, in my younger days.
I’m too old for it now.
I’ll hit my century in a couple years.
But they were the best decades of my life.
As they will be for you.” he said kindly.
“Despite the kind of drift you’ve mustered.” he said and chuckled.
The point had already been driven home, he really didn’t need to do this.
“You mentioned these assignments which we can do on the side.
How does that work?
Will you tell us beforehand and give us a list?” Callie asked.
“Ho ho!
No!” The man said.
“You will find some of them on your own, some will be brought to your notice by locals.
You understand the wide scope of activities that lie under the responsibilities of Allfarers so you will not have trouble noticing such work.
But I will say that you should size the problem up properly before you take it on.
It’s your first time out in the world.
You all don’t seem to be the most prepared either.” My god, again!
Zander was tiring of these taunts.
Maybe if there were a more seasoned navigator on the drift, they wouldn’t be heckled so.
“Keep in mind your safety, whatever you do.
Avoid official rescue if you can.
That type of stuff goes on your record quite visibly.” Lovely, another hard limit.
Zander caught out of the corner of his eye some movement to his right.
He turned to see Sylviane half raising her hand.
He felt a snicker escape his lips which he covered by coughing really loudly, placing his hand over his mouth to cover his lips stretching into a smile.
It was too reminiscent of school and the formal sheepish raise of the hand just got to him.
“Speak.” said Mr.
Corroway simply.
“Have you the details of our ship yet?
Also, they do consider our companions when they’ll allocate us a vessel and stock it with supplies, right?”
“To answer your second question, yes, but within reason.
We can’t accommodate a dragon that’s a hundred metres long, for example.
Those kinds of companions are more independent of the vessel, anyway.”
“Yeah, totally.” Sylviane murmured in agreement but did not speak further.
Now Zander was curious.
If Sylviane had a dragon companion it could be of help.
The gods knew his own companion was pretty useless.
Fuckin’ Pebbling.
“Is any other drift going to be assigned the exact same assignment as ours?” Finley asked then.
“Can’t disclose that to you.
But should you run into other drifts, your official identity cards will serve as the initial marker of trust, then you can confide in each other, help each other, what not.
But do not disclose Faring details to people who are not from the Faring or the Government.
There’s heavy penalties for that.
What’s confidential and what is not is pretty clearly outlined in the files you’ll receive.”
“When will we receive them?” asked Finley.
“They’ll be in your vessel.
Which brings me back to your first question, lady.” He said and gestured towards Sylviane.
“Apologies.
Things slip my mind a bit.
The nutty nineties, they call ’em.
Not quite nuts yet.” He said and grinned.
Only Venedir grinned back.
Mr.
Corroway brought out a rectangular device out of his robes and did some fiddling about with it, doing some squinting and bringing the device close to his face.
“Huh.” He said and then placed the thing on top of the projecting device.
The image on the screen morphed into that of a vessel.
The Vessel.
“So, this is your vessel.
Amphibious Faring Platform Model 6 or AFP-6.
Thirty-five metres in length, sixteen metres keel to roof, seven metre beam.
It’ll give you fifteen kilometres an hour in calm seas, ten in moderate conditions.
It’ll give you storage for around two hundred days of fuel, supplies, refrigeration for cold storage items, desalination and water storage tanks.
As always, and as mentioned to the young lady there, we try to be accommodating of your companions.
You will forgive us in case there is some oversight in this regard.” He stated and then did some swiping on his device.
“It will provide you land transport as well, but that is not its primary purpose.
Due to its size and weight, do not expect to navigate hilly, forested or particularly unstable terrain on this.
Stick to flat, stable ground and roads where she’ll move at an average speed of ten kilometres per hour.”
“And if we need repairs, restocking or refuelling?” Gwenyth said.
“In case of any perceived shortage, any Faring vessels are obliged to help you in what capacity they can.
While not all islands, at least the major ones in the sixty-fifth have a Faring outpost where they can aid you with such things.
Your aiders can, of course, request for details or evidences for usage of resources if they feel the need to.
For this mission though, ideally, you shouldn’t have a need for any of this.
Still, it’s good to know.” The man said and looked around at each one of them.
When his eyes went over the Zander, the boy shivered despite himself.
“Any other questions?” There was silence.
* * *
Mr.
Corroway had instructed their drift to assemble at the castle entrance with all of their stuff at the striking of the fourteenth hour.
Zander arrived a few minutes before, just after Sylviane.
Zander liked the colour of her hair.
It wasn’t too bright nor too dark, pleasant to look at.
He said a quick “Hi.” to her before he came off as weird.
She turned around.
“Hey, it’s the navigator.” Zander made a face not quite unlike a grumpy child.
“Don’t tease me.” He muttered.
“It’s bad enough already.”
Sylviane seemed confused for the briefest of moments.
“Oh.
I didn’t mean it that way.
And relax, it’s not your fault.
It’s not like we could find a Nav anyway.
And as far as I understand it, the vessel will have enough technologies with respect to navigation, and definitely a whole stack of maps.”
“Great.
Only if you could just remember the not my fault thing every time I fuck up, that would be… lovely.” He said with a smile.
She smiled back.
“Also, speaking of assistance in navigation… where’s your companion?
Is it like a dragon or something?” Sylviane scoffed.
“I wish.
Hardly anyone gets that cool a companion.
The Weathered here has one and that’s the only one I know of.” Zander continued giving Sylviane a curious look.
“My companion is… right there.” She looked back and down… at a black box?
“Uh… what is it?
And why have you kept it in a box?” Sylviane’s facial expression morphed into somewhat of a half smile.
“Um… Xara kind of is the box.”
“Ohhh… coolll….” Zander had not understood even a little and it probably showed on his face, perhaps comically so because Sylviane laughed – a sweet sound.
“She’s a shapeshifter… or more technically an organism that can manipulate its atomic matter to not only shift shapes but cell structure and what not.”
“Holy shit that’s cool!
I don’t think you should be jealous of the dragon, your companion sounds pretty cool.
But… you were asking back there about whether the vessel would be suitable…” He trailed off.
“Well, while she mostly is cooperative in terms of not shapeshifting into something harmful, it’s not in her control when she sleeps.
The worst I’ve seen is a fire.
Luckily I caught it in its early stages.
Since then she sleeps somewhere that’s more resistant.
Because the vessel will have a lot of items that can be potentially put at risk because of Xara, I hope they’ve provided some non-reactive material structure where she can rest.
I was able to make a tungsten box for the purpose, but it’s kind of a tight fit for her.
She kind of… expands in her sleep.
Her version of relaxation, I think.” Behind her the box shrunk in size.
Sylviane noticed where his eyes were and then smiled at the box.
“She’s shy.
More so when I talk about her.
She’ll get comfortable around you all in a few days, I think.”
Zander smiled at the box.
“Well, she sounds awesome.” He must have said it wistfully because Sylviane’s next words were “What about you?
Where’s your companion?” Zander wondered if a barrage of curses should be used to describe Felix, ultimately deciding against it.
“I don’t know, but he’ll show up when he feels like it.
Nothing to worry about.
He’s a Pebbling.
Well, it.
I like to think of it as a he.
Doesn’t do much.
I don’t see him that often, a few hours a day maximum.
Which is probably good.
Felix is the most annoying creature ever.” Sylviane laughed.
“Well, I imagine he’s somewhat akin to a rock in shape and size, right?” Zander nodded.
“Well, how can a being like that be annoying?”
“It’s in his actions.
He falls on my head, will end up in my meals, and makes me trip when I’m walking.
And he loves annoying me, it’s what he lives for, I can tell.” Zander said, which only elicited more mirth from the woman.
“You’re luckier than me, Sylviane.
I would trade companions with you in a heartbeat if I could.” Sylviane laughed again.
At least someone could derive enjoyment from this.
“Pebblings typically have some powers, right?”
“Yeah, kind of like those charms.
That’s the only good thing about Felix.
He turns the tides of fortune my way.
Although he rarely sticks around long enough for significant good to come of it.” He sighed.
“Maybe he was with me when Crowe and Linae found me.” His posture slumped a little.
“It’s okay, man.
It doesn’t matter how we all got together.
We are a drift now.” She said and gave his arm a comforting pat.
“Thanks.
And look, there come the others.” He said as he noticed the other members of the Serendipity make their way down the main staircase, dragging immense amounts of luggage behind them.
Zander smiled at the comical sight.
Sylviane looked at him and Zander thought he saw an imperceptible smile grace her features.
* * *
The ride to their vessel had been a slow and bumpy one with occasional mishaps mostly – mostly being more polite than accurate – being caused by Gwenyth’s companion, Elyria.
She was a Sylph.
Zander vaguely recalled studying about them in his second year, when he was studying environmentalism.
As part of his introduction to the element of air, he was made aware of certain creatures of the wind, one of which were the wind spirits.
According to Gwenyth, Elyria was a bit excited to see them all, which was why she had been circling their carriage ever since they left, getting too close every now and then, knocking a couple items from the back, whipping up a minor dust storm, what not – and then running off, presumably abashed.
Xara had shrunk into her smallest yet from all the disturbance.
Zander was really regretting sitting beside Gwenyth now.
The girl had yelled at Elyria quite a few times throughout their journey to the coast.
Zander could almost feel the hurt in his ears and wondered whether this was his first step toward becoming permanently deaf.
He didn’t blame Elyria however, she was excited and Zander understood.
Even he felt the restlessness within, even with so long to prepare.
He minded the spirit less than her owner.
His hat threatening to blow off was less harmful than irreversible ear damage, to be sure.
The others’ (and his own) companions had not shown up yet, which felt like a blessing in that moment.
There was enough chaos, within and out.
It was nearing the end of the sixteenth hour by the time they arrived at the vessel.
It was a newly commissioned one – or so Mr.
Corroway had said – and did not have a name yet.
The officials who’d brought her there and not named the poor thing.
How dreary must it have been to be referred to as an alphanumeric identification number.
Zander sighed a little.
It must have been audible because the next thing he heard from Gwenyth was “I know, she’s a nuisance.” She shouted the last word for Elyria’s benefit.
“Your shouting is more of a nuisance, Gwen.
Elyria’s fine.
She’s just…excited.” He said, a whisper of a breeze brushing the hair falling on his forehead just after.
“Don’t call me Gwen.” Gwenyth muttered.
“Why?
Gwenyth’s quite the mouthful, you know.” Zander said and grinned.
“Same number of syllables as you.
So it really should not be an issue, or can you not navigate more than two consonants together?” She teased and stepped out to her cloak flapping particularly hard, the frown on Zander’s face fading a little.
“Cut it out!” Her volume was lower and the distance between them enough for his suffering to end, for now.
“Thanks.” He whispered to the wind when he stepped out.