The breakfast was the drift’s quietest meal yet.
Gwenyth, for her part, could not take her eyes off the Pixie family.
It was as if she feared this would be her last taste of parental affection – even from an outsider’s perspective.
Though there were various sizes and assortments of chairs, it seemed (since the Serendipity had arrived after the family) to Gwenyth that the family’s choice of chair – similar to the ones her drift sat on – was intentional so they could sit in the manner they were currently.
Their table, alas, could not boast the similarity with theirs.
But Gwenyth was most grateful for that since she could truly bask in their view.
Her eyes were transfixed and Gwenyth felt that the most stimulating of conversations – or even something more extreme like disasters – could not shake her gaze, so intent it was.
The family was happily oblivious to what would seem like a creepy observer.
So caught up were they in their own slice of heaven.
Gwenyth found herself questioning the Faring.
Even if she was an orphan or her parents unsuitable to raise a child, was not knowing of one’s parents – even if they were bad – a fair cost of being in the Faring.
She knew what Jimis would have to say to that.
It was the price one had to pay and while the government never shared the statistics – Gwenyth could find comfort in that it was more likely that her family situation would have been such that a so-called normal upbringing would have been much sadder than what she had now, and that she was blessed and lucky to have an opportunity at the Becoming.
But Gwenyth – eating a buttered croissant in one of the most beautiful lodging structures she had seen, surrounded by good friends – did not feel so lucky.
And she disliked herself for not rejoicing in her good fortune.
Eventually, Callie tried to initiate a topic which was less depressing than the silence the drift was stewing in.
“So, your ordering skills aren’t as hopeless as we had thought they would be, Venny-boy.” she said with a smile.
“I’m the Tender, after all.” he replied proudly.
“And ordering breads isn’t really that difficult of a task.
You must really underestimate my skills.” He said, his eyes narrowing.
Zander grinned.
“Can’t say we don’t.” He muttered into his cup as he drank his coffee.
Venedir shook his head.
“Such condescension for the guy who feeds you.
Might be dangerous.” he teased.
It was striking twelve as they finished their breakfast and as they had hoped for, the weather had cleared up some so the drift headed out into town, heading south as Zander tried his best to guide them using a map of Eastern Fluviale.
Gwenyth, for one, did not care whether they did get lost, however.
Now that they could actually see without water blurring their view, Rainy Village was beautiful, its architecture only primitive to the ignorant surface level viewer.
The intricacies in the carvings and embedments was nothing like the more modern buildings in Lament.
Gwenyth shifted to Sylviane’s side as they walked.
“What do you think of the buildings here?” Gwenyth asked.
Sylviane seemed curious at being approached by Gwenyth, which turned into confusion after hearing her question.
“You came to me ask that?” she asked.
“Yeah, and other things, like normal conversation.
But yes.
This also.
I wanted to get
a builder’s perspective.”
Sylviane laughed.
“This has to be the first time I’ve been asked about architecture.
It being because of my profession has to be the cherry on top.”
“You must not have been asked because there was no new and simulating architecture in your school.”
She shrugged.
“Can’t say there was.”
“Told ya!”
Sylviane then looked around at the buildings.
“They feel… warm.
Reminiscent of better times, even though we are in these times.
I don’t know…” She shrugged again.
“It’s definitely very skillful work.
Some of this work has to be elven.”
“But no elves live here.”
“Not anymore.”
“I wonder where they went.” said Gwenyth quietly.
“Maybe they marked the archway so that posterity would remember them.”
“The subset of posterity that can read Eklerian.” she corrected.
“How does one create a legacy that doesn’t need language as a crutch?” Gwenyth murmured.
Sylviane shook her head.
She had no answer.
“Do you think we’ll be remembered, Sylvie?”
That Sylviane did seem to know.
“No, in all likelihood.
But I don’t think it is a sad prospect.
We do not need to bear the burden of posterity.
We need to live the decades we have in a manner that we complete the Becoming.”
“So you think the Becoming doesn’t stop?” asked Gwenyth.
“It’s a process.
It’s always starting, in progress and ending all at the same time.
For the seven year old Gwenyth, her Becoming ends with you.
For the seventeen or eighteen year old, you are still in progress.
For the twenty seven year old, you are merely at the cusp of beginning your Becoming.”
“Sounds awfully close to the endlessness of desire.”
“It may, but it’s really quite different.
Desires are mostly externally wrought upon externally.
I think the Becoming is mostly internal.
The very purpose of life, blanketing most actions of ours.”
“Is it most actions even for those not conscious of the Becoming?”
“I think so.”
“Then the assimilators’ can also undergo the Becoming?”
Sylviane seemed to be in thought.
“Though they tell us they cannot, I think there must be a few someones out there who can brave through the lifesucking technology around them.
And anyway, who’s to say that a life of constant near-nothingness is worse than the ups and downs of happiness and the accompanying efforts we undertake?”
“The Faring and government officials seem to put a lot of weight on what you doubt so easily.”
Sylviane laughs.
“Just because it is expressed in a manner so seemingly cavalier, do not assume that this doubt comes easy to me.”
Gwenyth nodded a little and spoke after a few seconds then, smiling a little.
“I didn’t expect our conversation to go down this track.”
Sylviane laughed.
“Glad to bring some novelty to you.”
And so their walk continued in silence.
Gwenyth noticed that pairs had formed quite naturally after she flitted over to Sylviane.
Callie and Venedir were walking side by side, and so were Finley and Zander – the latter duo looking at the map and squabbling over which trail might be faster.
While the walk took an hour, it did not feel like it.
The walk through the redgrasslands – with middling blood-tree cover – was peaceful.
The crimson all around was calming.
After a more intense start to their conversation, Gwenyth and Sylviane were content to talk of nothings – which was brought to its conclusion when they heard the waterfall.
The trees started to grow dense and clustered – through which they made it through in not time to find themselves at the base of one of the most beautiful waterfalls Gwenyth had ever seen.
It was not the largest, no.
But it had a serenity and tranquility to it that made her feel like she could sit there for hours on end.
“Well, it’s good that we brought swimwear.” said Zander excitedly.
“The water will be cold, Wairo has not been out that long.” said Callie but was wholly ignored by Zander who was already bounding towards one of the thicker-trunked trees, moving behind it and presumably changing his clothes.
“No reason to not take a swim.” Finley said – deigning to be the one to not leave her advice unanswered – and followed suit in changing quickly, following Zander as he jumped in one of the deeper parts of the basin.
Sylviane seemed to be lacking quite a bit in proactiveness, considering this was her idea.
“You seem unenthusiastic.” Gwenyth told her erstwhile walking partner.
“No… not at all.
Callie’s comment just has me a bit wary.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” said Gwenyth.
Her assurance was punctuated by a loud shriek from Finley as he jumped into the water – followed by a whoop.
Gwenyth grinned.
“See?”
And so, within a few minutes, all of the drift was in the water – Sylviane not being the one doing the most drama about the cold water, surprisingly.
It was a field day for her to know that her teacher was just in fact a lad scared of cold water.
To Venedir’s credit, he could swim really well – once he’d adjusted to the temperature.
But he did not merit too great a eulogy for it.
In fact, all farers were trained to be proficient swimmers, even in relatively rougher conditions – as much as the schools could safely conduct.
Gwenyth herself had just decided to lie down in the water and not exert herself all that much.
She was perfectly content to just float about aimlessly and look at the sky and canopy.
Lucky for her, her driftfellows did not disturb her, apart from a few errant splashes that reached her.
But eventually all of the noise the others were creating faded into the background and Gwenyth found her eyes drooping….
and then closing for a few brief moments intermittently.
The next thing she knew was that water was hitting her face with an almost violent intensity.
Her eyes opened to a downpour and she straightened up, looking around.
Venedir was swimming.
Finley was still sleeping in the water a few metres from her.
Callie and Sylviane were lying down under one of the larger trees, presumably sleeping.
Zander was -, actually, where the hell was Zander?” Gwenyth couldn’t see the blue haired boy anywhere.
“Venedir.” she yelled at her driftfellow over the pitter-patter of droplets in the basin.
Venedir was moderately slow to turn back to her and raised his hands in a questioning gesture.
The man didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit affected by the rain.
“How long have we been here?” she yelled.
Finley was starting to stir from his nap.
“Three hours!” Venedir yelled back.
“We really should start heading back!”
Venedir shrugged, as much as he could with most his body submerged.
“I’m not waking the others.”
Gwenyth sighed.
She did not want to be the one to wake the others either.
She asked Finley then, who very conveniently washed his hands of the responsibility.
“Do any of you two know where Zander is atleast?” Gwenyth asked.
“Elyria showed up.
He went with her.” said Venedir as if it were a casual occurrence.
“When?
And where?
To do what?” she yelled.
“Uh…” Venedir scratched his head a little.
“Half an hour back.
I don’t know anything else.
But I’m sure they’re safe and have not gone too far.” He said placatingly.
“Great.” Gwenyth muttered and swam quickly to the banks of the basin, dressing quickly and then shaking the other girls awake.
“What?” Sylviane muttered sleepily as she rolled to face Gwenyth.
“Get up.
We’re leaving.”
“So soon?” she muttered.
“It’s raining and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon.” She said and then sighed a little, rubbing her forehead.
“Additionally, Zander has vanished with Elyria and we don’t know of his whereabouts.
Venedir seems to think nothing of it.
I hope my anxiety is unwarranted.”
“It definitely is.” Callie – who was fully awake by then – said.
“You’re just insecure.”
“Pfft.
What nonsense!” Gwenyth declared, too quickly, too casually.
“Well, let’s get going.
Zander will show up… sometime.” Callie said in a not so consoling assurance.
The drift – save the missing one – left the waterfall within five minutes, which was apparently enough time for the lake to start overflowing into where Callie and Sylviane had been napping.
Gwenyth sighed to herself seeing a puddle forming where her driftfellows had been not so long ago.
She could have let nature take its course, not be villainised for stealing away essential beauty sleep, and had a good laugh at her friends’ expense.
Stupid.
It had been nearly twenty minutes that they had been walking – the rain only falling harder now.
Gwenyth had exclaimed her astonishment at the volumes of water pouring down on them not less than three times since they’d taken off.
While the first time had been met with enthusiastic agreement, the others were all too put down by the rain or too exasperated by repetition or some combination of thereof to respond.
It had to be that since however loud the rain was, Gwenyth was definitely louder.
Gwenyth was considering voicing her despair once again – ankle deep in mud and water and struggling to keep her footing – when her eyes registered a figure in the distance that had not been there before.
Mister Virien.
Unmistakably him, even if she wasn’t familiar with his figure, which she was.
She made no effort to quicken her pace upon registering his presence – neither did the others and Gwenyth was sure their eyesight was comparable to hers.
It took them a couple minutes to get to him, upon which the group morphed with Callie and Alaric at the center, the rest within earshot, not unintentionally.
They all wished to hear what her companion – new and intriguing for them – had to say after what had transpired in his last conversation with Callie.
“So.” Callie said dryly.
She didn’t seem to be as simulated by his intrusion in what was already an arduous walk back to the village.
“What were you up to?”
Alaric shrugged.
“Oh… nothing.”
“You know as well as I that it is never nothing.” she responded and Gwenyth could feel the smile on Alaric’s face without even looking up from the mud.
“Well, it’s not nothing.
It’s quite a bit of something actually.
I wouldn’t have bothered to come see you, if that were not the case.
In fact, I really wasn’t planning on seeing you at all until the Dragon Isles, if you managed to get my friend out, that is.”
“Gee, thanks.
So why have you bothered showing up now, Rick?”
“Uh… it’s really complicated but the short of it is that you’ll have to break out my friend by Wairodon day after tomorrow.”
“That means tomorrow night!” Callie said, her voice raising.
“We haven’t done any preparation yet.
We were planning to start the day after tomorrow itself.”
“Yeah yeah, I know.
You’re all a bunch of drunkards and waywards.” He said, continuing over the sounds of protest.
“But things are developing in a manner that necessitates haste.”
There was a moment of silence and all Gwenyth could hear was the rain.
Then Sylviane spoke.
“I think I would like to hear the long of it.”
“But that will take so much effort.” The vampire whined.
“Too bad, Ricky-boy.
Because we’d like an explanation.” said Gwenyth.
“You know I don’t like that nickname.” he muttered and made a show of exasperation, sighing dramatically.
“Fine, I’ll tell you.”
Gwenyth did not for a second doubt that he intended to tell them all that he would speak then under apparent duress.
“So… this may come as a shock to you, but Youvlon is half in flames.
The island is nearly in two distinct pieces due to the earthquakes.”
“But… it simply cannot be!” said Finley.
“The volcanoes are not powerful enough to do that.”
Alaric shrugged.
“I don’t know what to tell you.
This is what I have heard and frankly, I’m really not in the mood to investigate.
I came here for a vacation of sorts and so far, it hasn’t been that great.
First I find out that one of my friends is held prisoner then I find out the fucking Volider of all people is coming to Fluviale to negotiate building a faring base with the villages.”
“Wait… what?” Callie asked.
“None of that makes sense.
Why would we need a new faring base?
Why not just rebuild in Youvlon?
And why is the Weathered coming over here?”
Alaric shook his head in frustration.
“I’ve told you to learn how to think, Lee!
And you know what?
I will not tell you more than you need to know.
You have to be better!” The source of this chapter is g.com.
Callie gave a begrudging grunt.
“So, why does Volider coming here create an issue?” Venedir asked.
Alaric looked like he would snap again – and Finley and Sylviane looked like they could relate this time – and the latter intervened.
“We absolutely cannot be caught, even less so with the Weathered on the isle.
It makes the operation riskier.”
“But how does that matter, Sylvie?” asked Gwenyth.
“Won’t they figure out it was us since we’d leave the same time the prisoner would disappear-”
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Alaric thundered.
“W-Well…” Gwenyth stuttered.
“It wouldn’t take much for them to put two and two together.
It’s too obvious.”
Alaric groaned loudly.
“Wow.
You all are even worse off than I thought.”
Callie – through a half smile she tried hard to hide but couldn’t – defended Gwenyth half-heartedly.
“We didn’t really talk with each other about how we’d break your friend out yet.
We were going to talk strategy during and after scouting.”
“Surely you see that’s not going to work with your more… retarded driftfellows making assumptions like these.”
She was really struggling to control her smile now which Gwenyth – for one – found to be hypocritical.
She wasn’t that better.
Callie then took a deep breath.
“Guys, it was pretty obvious to… at least some of us that we can’t be leaving the isle with the demon.
So we have to make a pretense of departing early.
The Opaline Tide will not be docked and will actually be leagues away, in fact, by the time we do the breaking out.”
“THANK YOU.” said Alaric and gestured with his hand to Callie while looking at Gwenyth and Venedir.
“So, you can understand now that I need you to get the fuck off this island as soon as possible so you can come back later and do your scouting and fuck-all preparation and break my friend out.
If you can leave by noon, it will be ideal.
You can execute the entirety of the plan in the hours around midnight.”
“Well, that’s all well and good.
But Zander is missing.” Venedir said.
“We don’t know if we’ll find him in time.”
“You will.” said Alaric curtly.
“I’ll make sure of it.
Just do your shopping on your way back to your room and check out.”
“Won’t it be suspicious that we’re checking out the same day?” asked Gwenyth.
“Come.
Up.
With.
An.
Excuse.” Alaric said through gritted teeth and Gwenyth realised it was time for her – and Venedir – to stop speaking altogether for the remainder of the interaction.
Finley seemed to sense it as well and he changed the topic.
“You seem to dislike the Weathered.
Why is that, Alaric?”
“It’s Mister Virien to you, boy.” he said, taking out some of the residual annoyance but then his voice softened ever so slightly.
“This happened around three decades ago.
Your Weathered was an Isle Protector – at the Buried Man, no less.
I had a… friend then, one I’d known for over a century.
She… was going through some shit, problems, issues, call ’em as you like.” He said and then rubbed his forehead a little.
“She had been going a little crazy with her feeding.
It started off with creatures no one cared about and she could tell herself that she was making the world better – at least not worse off – by killing.”
Killing was almost never okay.
That was what was taught to them at school.
And what Rick’s friend was doing – definitely not okay.
“And then she met this Allfarer, a mere Waykeeper.
I never understood what she saw in him.” Gwenyth thought she heard some bitterness in his voice.
“Either way, he was good for her.
Her attraction and emotional bond to him took her problems and resulting thirst from the foreground.
Her attraction to the Waykeeper-”
“Love.” Callie interrupted.
Alaric turned his head slowly towards Lee in a manner Gwenyth didn’t quite like.
“What?” he said slowly, his tone steely, something dangerous underlying.
“You always say it was mere attraction, but it was love.”
“Was it love that made her kill him?”
“He was half dying already – wounded in an undead attack.” She added the latter part for their benefit.
“So?
It just means her attraction was not greater than bloodlust when the temptation was made more apparent.” he spat out.
“You can’t possibly imagine her emotions then.
And this was all told to you by her.
You don’t know his true state, you couldn’t possibly.
And the pain she would have felt.”
“What about my pain?” Alaric shouted, so loud that Gwenyth saw the raindrops in front of his lips blasted away.
Her ears hurt and so did her head.
Everyone had stopped walking and was looking at the duo.
Callie – however – seemed unfazed.
“So selfish.
Just because you loved her does not mean you gain the right to preach at her from this high ground you’ve assumed.”
“You–” Alaric laughed, no humour in the sound.
“You would take a killer’s side over mine.
A psychopath.”
“You DON’T KNOW THAT!” Callie yelled at him.
“I DON’T.
Because Tars won’t tell me.
I couldn’t even have the chance to beg him to spare her life.
He owes me an explanation, closure!” Alaric’s voice seemed close to breaking.
Gwenyth had never seen the vampire like so.
Callie touched his shoulder gently.
“Don’t you think he’s sparing you the pain and burden of knowing?”
“At least I’d know then.” he said quietly.
“That would be of consolement.
You’ve not lost anybody.”
“Has she not?
Have not each and every one of us?” It was Gwenyth who spoke up this time.
The look on Callie’s face was half-supportive, the other half seemed to want to tell her to stay out of it.
But she didn’t.
“We all have lost our families and we all know that it’s most likely that we are orphans or unwanted children.
Yet we all chose not to find out the reality of it.
Knowing will not make it better.
If you find out she loved you, it’ll hurt.
If she didn’t it’ll hurt.
If she could have had a second chance, it’ll hurt.
If she couldn’t, it’ll hurt.
She is dead and nothing will remedy the fact now.” Towards the end of her monologue, the rain started to slow and had reduced to a mere drizzle by the time Gwenyth finished, her breathing uneven and the most audible sound to her ears.
Nature was not being all too supportive of her being a good friend.
Five pairs of eyes were on her, the most intense being that of a vampire who was as powerful as a god.
Gwenyth wondered for a moment if these were her last moments on earth, subsequently whether a drift that had started with six and then reduced to five members could be allowed to complete the assignment they were on.
It seemed as if the silence would drag on forever.
Alaric still felt filled with… something.
Of course.
Her passionate appeal could not break through to an inflexible immortal being.
Alaric Virien – the audacity of him – laughed then and looked at Callie.
“She isn’t completely lacking in brains, after all.”