The faring vehicle with identification code H5F8D3 was a beautiful vessel.
She was not as large as some of her fellows which were docked on the Northern coast of Youvlon, but Callie liked her all the same.
She made it hard for Callie to actually take in the beauty of the beach itself.
The black sand contrasted beautifully against the sapphiric waves that graced its surface before withdrawing their favor.
Their vessel was currently in its grounded state, massive wheels supporting its weight.
A breeze tasting of salt and ash blew strongly.
It had been hard to see Elyria during their way to the beach, not quite so anymore.
Callie – who had grown to be more mindful of the spirit’s presence – could see the speckles of ash crash into her figure as waves broke against a cliff.
The particles highlighted her figure, the air contrastingly clear within.
Callie looked at her driftfellows to see if anyone had noticed.
They all seemed preoccupied with their luggage, dragging or wheeling it towards their vessel.
Only Zander seemed to peer every now and then into nothingness, his eyes narrowing some.
The poor lad had given up on his hat, it seemed, with it fallen back onto the nape of his neck, tethered to him by a thin cord.
She was eventually broken out of her silent torpor as her turn to load her things arrived.
On the back end of the vessel, there was a small platform just above the top end of the wheels.
Finley and Gwenyth had climbed atop the stern and were helping the others load their things.
Sylviane looked back at Callie at her approach and smiled, her eyes crinkling a little.
“Nice of you to join us, Farer Callie.” Callie scoffed and rolled her eyes a little in response, climbing the stern and helping out her driftfellows.
“Elyria seems to have settled down a bit.” She said to Gwenyth.
“My yelling seems to have been fruitful.” She said.
Before Callie could respond, Zander snorted, which made her chuckle.
“Even Zander knows how fruitful it was.”
“What can I say, Lee?
My reputation precedes me.”
“Lee, huh?” said Venedir.
“Your nickname suits you.”
“What’s yours?” Callie asked.
“Venedir seems like a name that would be hard to make a good nickname out of.” Venedir grinned in response.
“My friends call me Venny.”
“I stand corrected.” said Callie to her driftfellows’ amusement, except for Venedir, who scowled a little before a smile broke his demeanour..
“It’s not my fault.” He muttered.
“We’ll make up a good nickname for you.” Gwenyth promised.
“Pssh, as if you’re one to talk.
You don’t let us call you Gwen.” said Zander.
“I don’t do nicknames.” Gwenyth muttered, her tone colder now.
“Sylviane, I can hazard a guess at your nickname, but I don’t want to assume.” Callie interjected before Zander could reply.
Sylviane sighed.
“It is Sylvie.
While you all think up another nickname for Venny here, you can keep me in your thoughts as well.”
The luggage was all finished loading by then and the ones not on the vessel yet started climbing.
“Me as well, please.” said Zander as he grunted with effort, climbing up next to Callie.
“Haven’t been able to find a nickname that’s really stuck.”
“Did no one think of Zanny-boy?” teased Venedir.
“They didn’t, actually.
And it’s a good thing.
Pity you had to, though.” He returned with a smile.
“That leaves you, Finny-boy.” Gwenyth said, her tone uncharacteristically amused given she was annoyed not so long ago.
“Finn.” He replied.
“I like mine well enough.
Wouldn’t want to take up creative space for nickname brainstorming reserved for you three.
You need it.” He said with his lips curling just slightly.
The drift laughed, the collective voice a soft gentle one.
Melodious, even.
Maybe they would be able to be a proper drift and get through this just fine.
Maybe.
Thinking of the drift brought a thought to her mind.
“Drift.” She became conscious that it was the first time that she – or anyone – was addressing their drift as so.
Her fellows looked at her.
“We have yet to think of a name for her.” She placed a hand on one of the walls of the vessel.
No one said anything for a few seconds, a couple of people shrugged.
Finally, Finley spoke up.
“I think…” He paused and then looked around at everyone.
“If I may speak for all of us, it’s immense pressure to think of a good enough name for what could be our vessel for several years.” There seemed to be no sounds of disagreement and Finley continued.
“Everything I think of sounds so imperfect and mediocre.”
“Maybe you should say it anyway.” said Sylviane.
“I was quiet because I simply couldn’t think of anything, but maybe your suggestions might get me thinking.”
“I had something along the lines of Wavebreaker in mind.” Finley said a bit sheepishly.
To the drift’s credit, no one made disparaging comments.
They just took the suggestion in silence until the next.
“Storm Rider.” this one came from Venedir.
“The Iron Hurricane.” said Gwenyth.
“Maybe… something a bit more gentle…” Callie interjected.
“Like… the Iron Tide…”
“Iron is so typical… and our vessel isn’t even iron coloured.” Zander said.
“It definitely isn’t, it’s not even just sea green… it’s quite the unique gradient actually.” said Sylviane.
“I don’t quite know how to describe it…”
“Opaline!” exclaimed Venedir, followed by a flurry of nods.
“Yes!!” said Gwenyth.
“It’s so many colours but Opaline really is the perfect articulation for all the hues.”
“So… the Opaline Tide then?” asked Finley, which was immediately responded to in eager exclamations of agreement.
The drift’s faces seemed a shade brighter all of a sudden.
“Oaty for short.” said Sylviane with a grin.
“Great.
Our carrier has gotten a nickname before me.” Zander said and sighed dramatically.
* * *
It took the drift a relatively short period of time to carry and pile all their things at the entrance of a corridor which they assumed led to all their rooms.
“Let’s check out the rooms first.” said Sylviane.
“We’ll choose each of ours.” This was met with agreement and every one bundled into the narrow corridor, all six of them filling the first room, the second and third before they realised that each room was indistinguishable in any significant regard.
Each room had a bed, a window beneath which was placed a desk and chair.
A couple of cupboards were built into the wall opposite to the bed.
The rest of it was bare.
The lighting was blue around the bed and red closer to the cupboards, which came together at the table, upon which was a complex-looking computer device with a screen.
Callie found the set up of the rooms to be very aesthetically and functionally pleasing, and judging by the reaction of her peers, they found it to be so as well.
A few storage rooms and a couple of restrooms lay toward the end of the corridor.
Callie also spotted a medical room, pointing it out to Venedir, who promptly disappeared into it for a few minutes while everyone started taking a room, mostly at random.
By the time Venedir would reappear, the room at the (relative) end was the only one available.
Since that was also closest to the medical room, Callie didn’t think the man would be too heartbroken over it.
Callie didn’t bother unpacking apart from a few essentials.
She slipped off her jacket and headed to where they’d caught a glimpse of the Navigation and Control room.
She spotted Gwenyth on her way, her room’s door open.
Naturally she dragged her along, taking her upstairs to find Zander already inside, looking through what appeared to be thick navigation books.
It indeed was so, the particular atlas in Zander’s hands was of the sixty fifth.
He set it on the central table for them both to peruse.
Even Gwenyth peered in it from the opposite end of the tables, her elbows supporting her as her head rested on her hands.
It seemed that their assigned task really was an easy one.
All in all, it seemed that the task could get accomplished within a hundred and twenty days, accounting for some delays and including a couple of short side assignments that may arise.
Extreme weather conditions notwithstanding, there was a negligible chance that they would enter monster-infested territories.
Zander was already tracing a path with a pencil on the map.
It made sense to Callie.
It was the safest route possible, and perhaps even the fastest since it would avoid most potential troubles in the sector.
“Has Alaric been in touch?” Gwenyth asked, making Callie look up from the map.
She stepped back and leaned against the glass wall.
“No.
He’s still in the mountain ranges of Noirskov, to the best of my knowledge, at least.”
Zander looked up as well then.
“Who’s Alaric?”
“My companion.”
“Oh nice!
What is he?”
Gwenyth smiled at the question.
“Uh… Alaric is kind of… a vampire.” Callie said, a bit abashedly.
To Zander’s credit, he did not react in a manner that Callie had grown accustomed and apprehensive to – disgust, fear or judgement.
“Oh cool!
So like, does he drink blood?”
Callie sighed.
“Yes.
It is kind of the defining trait for his like.”
Zander grinned.
“But I assume we shall not form any meal of his… hopefully?” He ventured.
“Fortunately, no.
And Alaric doesn’t prefer our species anyway.” Callie shrugged.
“So what does Mr.
…” Zander waited for Callie.
“Virien.”
“like to suck the life force from?” Sylviane and Finley entered at that point.
Callie could visualise their confused faces before the expressions formed on their faces.
“He doesn’t kill his prey, just to clarify.
But he does prefer dragons, sea serpents, whales, and so on.” Zander and the new entrants looked surprised at that.
Callie pulled Zander by his sleeve towards the control panel, leaving Gwenyth to recap the conversation for the others.
The panel was complicated.
It seemed that most of Oaty’s functions were dictated from this singular board.
It was now sinking into Callie why even in the largest of drifts, there was one and only one navigator.
Externally coordinating such infinitism of controls would be difficult.
Which is why the one navigator had to be really good.
Luckily the instruction manual was not that hard to locate.
It was one of the thickest books Callie had ever seen.
But it was very organised.
They were able to find the section on land travel easily, which also happened to mention how to set Oaty to sea.
Venedir had also come up by the time she and Zander got the vessel moving, the hull slowly pushing into the waves.
Only when they were well and truly into the sea did Zander retract the wheels of the Oaty.
Only once the course was set for Northern Rhefalt – estimated travel time being fourteen and a half days – did Callie step away from the control panel, sighing a little.
Zander stepped away as well and a small applause and some cheering ran through the room, bringing a smile to Callie’s face.
Off into the unknown.
She stepped out of the room as things settled down, stepping out onto the deck.
Wairo was nearly overhead and the shores of Youvlon barely visible.
After a few minutes of looking at the beach, Callie finally shifted, realising that Finley had also stepped out and was leaning on the railing opposite hers.
The wind must have made her senses distracted enough to not realise that he was in her proximity.
“Finny-boy.” She called out to him teasingly.
He turned, a smile already on his face, his silver hair whipping over his face as he changed angles with respect to the wind.
Callie smiled, watching the lad tie his hair into a bun.
“So, Miss Navigator.
Where are we headed?
Zander seemed too engrossed for me to trouble him.” He said.
“You did not trouble me either before I called to you.”
A bit of colour rushed to his pale skin.
“It’s not like that.
I’m just… unsure of whether I should initiate interactions.
I know we are a drift but I couldn’t help but think my presence may be unwanted at the moment.
You stepped out and seemed so serene by yourself.
I did not want to disturb.” He said.
“It’s nothing like that, silly.
I came to take in the view.
And spend some time with Elyria, who doesn’t seem to be around yet.” Callie said with a smile.
“Oh.”
“Yes.
Don’t assume your presence is unwanted.
At least with me.” She said warmly and came over to his side.
“And to answer your question Mr.
Nature,” she looked into his eyes of silver, glittering under Wairo.
“we’re heading north.
Eruptions on the northern coast of Youvlon are likely.
It would make for rough sailing should they happen when we are crossing.
We’ll try and travel along the coast of Fluviale.
We can ground ourselves at a short notice should the need arise.” Finley nodded a little.
“You must have studied some navigation in your years studying environmentalism as well, right?” Callie asked.
“Yes, though most likely it is not as much as you both.
It’s really the basics.” Callie shrugged a little.
“You should join us in the control room some time.
Might be that you know more than you’re letting on.”
Finley smiled a little.
After a few seconds of her looking at him intently, he nodded.
“Maybe I will.”
“Lovely.”
“But.”
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t see the but coming.”
Finley laughed.
It was a pleasant sound, carried over in its entirety as the wind died down for a moment.
It was almost as if the wind had repressed its expression of joy to let the boy do so fully.
“But… literally none of the drifts ever have two navigators, let alone three.
What if it becomes chaotic and we mess it up?”
“Our knowledge in Nav is not so thorough as to make us overconfident in the matter, perhaps not even confident.” She smiled.
“You will not spoil the broth, my friend.”
Finley grinned.
“Now broth is something I’m good at.”
Callie nudged his arm with her elbow.
“Oh really?” She asked in a drawn out voice, teasing him.
“You’ll see at dinner.” Finley promised.
“Provided Venedir lets me into the kitchen.”
“And speaking of Venedir, do you know what his companion is?” Finley wondered.
“His is the only one I know not of.”
“I don’t, but I don’t know yours either.” Callie answered.
Finley smiled.
“You didn’t see her in the water?”
“Nope.”
“Well, either you weren’t looking close enough or…”
“Or?”
“she does not wish to be seen.” He said with a smile and leaned over the railing, until half of his body was dangling over nothingness.
He called out to her unintelligibly.
It was not a tongue Callie had heard spoken before and it made her eyebrows furrow a little.
She initially was a bit apprehensive and hung back in case she had to prevent this driftfellow of hers from ending up overboard.
Since that started seeming unlikely as the moments passed, and as he urged her, she leaned forward like him, though not quite as much.
As her gaze remained where Finley’s was, she did not notice anything.
“I don’t see her.”
“I don’t either, yet.
But I think she’s around so I’ll give her a minute.
It’s not like we’re in a rush anyway.”
After a couple of minutes, Callie caught an unusual stirring in the water.
“Is that-” No further words left her mouth, on account of her losing her breath.
The most ethereal being she had ever laid eyes upon emerged from the waves.
She was a centaur like being, only she could walk on waves, traverse the depths of the seas, and had scales on her body.
Her skin was a heavenly, almost luminescent blue.
She reached approximately a third of the boat’s height.
She was hauntingly beautiful, her hair dark as night and her eyes darker still.
Her gaze entranced Callie oh-so terribly.
She snapped out of it some when Finley spoke, finding that her hitched breath was struggling to leave her throat.
“Nyvaeriel, this is Callie.
Callie, this is Nyvaeriel, my companion, a Nuckalavee.” Callie exhaled shakily and breathed out “It’s nice to meet you, Nyvaeriel.” Nyvaeriel spoke not but held her gaze for a few more seconds.
Communicating, perhaps.
And Callie thought she understood.
* * *
As the afternoon progressed, all retired to their quarters one by one, save Zander – who Callie had to leave as time for lunch drew near.
Venedir had been the first to leave, citing lunch preparations, and Callie hoped to get some unpacking done before she was called to lunch.
She had done enough reading of charts and technical controls anyhow.
Her eyes felt bleary from the intense study.
Learning about languages and cultures was surely easier.
Luckily the winds seemed to bring her back to something akin to a lively disposition.
She lingered at the railing but a moment, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nyvaeriel again, but to no avail.
Callie did end up seeing Xara zooming about the empty corridor as she entered it.
The shapeshifter was in the shape of a fox, black as the box she had been a few hours back.
Xara darted into Sylviane’s room at Callie’s approach, her own room being directly opposite.
Callie smiled at Sylviane, catching a glimpse of her room.
“You’re not unpacking yet?”
Sylviane smiled back.
“Just feeling lazy.
Maybe after lunch.”
Callie chuckled and went into her room.
Unpacking was an uneventful and tedious affair and Callie was relieved when she finally heard Venedir’s voice well into the twenty-second hour.
It wasn’t quite what she had expected, however.
His voice seemed to be coming to her as an announcement.
Callie peered out of her room and sure enough, closer to the inner end of the corridor, there was a speaker on the ceiling.
Good for him to have that figured out.
Callie ditched her half-arranged table promptly and bounded upstairs to where the mess hall and kitchen were.
She found Venedir setting the table with sandwiches, what looked like chicken and a whole lot of salad.
“It’s healthy for you.” he said when he saw her looking at the radish.
“It will not help me brave through the mess I need to get back to after eating.” Venedir sighed.
“You had to remind me of that.
I don’t want to unpack either.”
“Oh and that reminds me.” Before Callie could speak further Venedir did.
“I still need to set juices and dessert.
Come with me.
We’ll get it done quicker and talk at the same time.” He said and Callie nodded, walking with him to the kitchen, While it didn’t seem to be made for more than one chef at a time, it was spacious enough in its storage and utensil capacities for feeding a half dozen people.
A lot of it was wood, warm to the touch and eyes.
Callie liked those parts more than the steel and marble, lifeless.
“So, I wanted to ask you about your companion.
It’s the only one that’s still a mystery, at least to me.”
“Ah… what’s in a companion?” Venedir asked as he handed her a pie, grabbing the bottles of orange juice placed on the marble countertop.
“You probably know this better than I.
You all, my drift, will probably end up truer companions than the ones you refer to.
You must not mistake it for animosity or indifference.
I just feel the weightage given to them by the Faring society and even the undrifted is… unmerited.”
“I know… and I agree with you.
But still…” Callie pressed.
“I was curious.
It’s part of getting to know you.”
“Maybe… but the association of companion and self – maybe not how you mean it – but such association is something I don’t like.
I don’t think we and our companions are as connected as our schools and the Faring would have us believe.” He said as they walked to the table.
The others were already there at that point.
“You all start, please.
We’ll… just bring the glasses.” said Venedir as he went back into the kitchen, Callie followed.
“You know it doesn’t take two people to bring glasses, right?” she teased.
“Well, that’s the first thing that came to mind.
And I don’t think at least some – if not all – of them would understand.”
“Sure… but you still haven’t told me what your companion is.”
Venedir inflated his cheeks and then exhaled noisily.
“Uh… a Morveille.”
“Sorry?” Callie didn’t understand.
“Basically a war spirit, personification of violence, battle, bloodshed, conflict, what not.”
“Sounds…”
“Yeah I know.
But he’s okay, for the most part.”
“Most?”
Venedir shook his head.
“Let it be.”
Lunch was a light-hearted affair, especially relative to the conversation preceding it.
Finley managed to get access to the kitchen for just the one meal to cook his renowned broth.
Gwenyth had a couple of crumbs thrown on her by Callie after she boasted of being done with her unpacking, which she promptly ate, much to Callie’s amusement.
As they winded up, Sylviane volunteered to help Venedir with the dishes.
Procrastinating her unpacking further.
A true professional.
“Drift, one last thing.” Zander said as they got up.
“We’ll hit Fluviale’s estuary somewhere around midnight.
Conditions on Youvlon are worsening so we may have to go around the island.”
“Can’t we just stick to the southern coast?” asked Sylviane.
“No.” It was Callie who answered.
“The southern coast is essentially rocky cliffs and if a strong enough eruption happens, the waves emanating from the source could be strong enough to slam our ship into the cliffs, which would be a much bigger nuisance than sailing around.”
“And.” said Zander.
“Since there is a good chance we’re headed to Fluviale, there is a nice village on the eastern coast we can visit, maybe.” There seemed to be a general agreement among the drift with respect to the same and they dispersed soon after.
The rest of the evening was uneventful and Callie had gotten most of her unpacking done by the time they were called to dinner, by Finley this time, the enthusiasm in his tone far from subtle.
It was a heavy dinner with everyone taking second helpings of Finley’s broth, now considered by them to be the most ambrosial dish in the entirety of the sixty-fifth.
A drowsy Callie made her way back downstairs, saying her goodnights to her drift before retiring to her room.
She barely mustered the energy to brush and it was still quite early – with the rest of her driftfellows still awake – when Callie slept in her messily made bed, a small turquoise bulb serving as the night light.