It took us six weeks of constant travel to reach Nereved. The monotonous journey quickly grew into a habitual way of life for us. Our sleeping schedules diverged as some of us naturally gravitated toward late nights, those being Betiara and Sekvi. I was always too tired to diverge from my sleep schedule, which was a miracle in itself; it had happened so easily on Earth while I dissociated into my phone for hours at a time. It was my impression that the rigors of geometry over the course of my navigational duty combined with doing light work on the ship to create an easy fatigue by the end of my day. Studying Common with the others had additionally provided a nice nightcap. I had been assured that I was coming along nicely, though I felt a constant sense of failure as I realized just how expansive a task it was to learn another language. At this stage I could politely greet people, make simple requests and express simple sentiments. It was a solid foundation upon which I could improve as long as my social wherewithal held up to the strain of that same activity.
The crew was wary of Betiara at first, but meeting Sekvi and I seemed to calm them down. She quickly joined their card games and reveled in the fun of surprise. So many questions about lycanthropy had begun to surface in the crew that she had arranged a small questionnaire that she posted on our bed, which I found to be endlessly amusing. I had been concerned about how she would be received by the crew, but after that initial bout of uncertainty, things had settled out nicely. Our relationship developed further over the course of the journey. In spite of our mutual desire to take things slowly, we had grown closer both emotionally and physically. This led to one particularly awkward moment in the cargo hold while we were momentarily compromised. Care was still being taken in our efforts, however, and that suited us both very well. I felt understood in ways I could have never imagined before meeting Betiara. She saw me, and she valued me. Her interest was genuine and of positive intent. It felt so special to be close with her.
In a different vein, I was getting closer to Lilika, too. Her encouragement, alongside that of Sekvi, was instrumental in my progressing study. It was so easy to feel discouraged by what I imagined to be my linguistic potential. Self-doubt and a lack of success in such a necessary venture twisted my ever prone self-reflection, but Lilika and Sekvi kept me firmly on track. We spent some time sitting atop the sheltering cowl above the entrance to the cargo hold together with Rags. Lilika would teach me about the constellations we would see as we drifted through the wilderness. I realized in these moments, over and over again, how little stargazing I had done in Letvel after it had been a nightly ritual in Karthos Bend. These moments that I spent with her were very special to me. We spoke of our lives, what we've had and what we've missed. Much of her life had been spent with her husband, so he was a frequent topic of conversation. A vision of him as a person, as a bear, slowly came together through these nightly vigils. I confessed the wish I had made to her the night before we arrived, which inspired a mutually tearful embrace. Lilika told me that there would always be a bear and a Madison in her heart.
Sekvi thrived among the crew. Their musical practice garnered so much attention that the captain occasionally shirked his duties to join in on the fun. So much life was alive in Sekvi, but I knew that a cavern of sorrow lay below. I had seen a glance of it while we were assisting our fellow refugees in Letvel. That moment had cascaded into my tearful, lonesome breakdown a short time later. The ache they felt in their chest had a place within mine, as well. Still, they hadn't cried again since that afternoon, and spent much of their restful time sitting alone at the bow of the boat, staring silently over the water. I approached them one night and sat with them once invited to do so. This afforded me another rare glimpse into what bubbled beneath the surface: "A musician's heart is ever empty, and that is why it fills with song." They said nothing further that night as we silently felt our emotions together. I had only begun to understand what a semblance of family meant through Lilika, and losing her filled me with a dead, inert terror that emptied my heart as well. Sekvi felt that time alone would be enough to heal their wounds. I feared that they were simply making a wish.
Games of competition and stories of familial and personal achievements were Keff's contributions to the atmosphere of the voyage. I was impressed to learn of the apparent heroism present in his lineage. He seemed to be interested in continuing that legacy in his own capacity. During one of these sessions, I found myself drunk enough to arm wrestle him. I was nowhere near strong enough to put up any kind of contest, but he took it easy on me for the sake of dramaticism. This show of good spirit showed me how welcome I was to him and his undertakings alongside the shared enjoyment of the crew. Having Keff around made this entire endeavor far less monotonous than it easily could have been. The sorrow that I saw in him was quieter than it was in Sekvi, but his was less hidden. His absorption in his family lineage informed me that his difficulty was more existential in nature. Keff had expressed that his father was not someone to be spoken of, but he eagerly looked into his father's parents' stories and beyond. Only after asking did he reveal what he was searching for: he asserted that some things lasted longer than life, and he was considering what would last beyond him. This made me wonder what would last beyond me.
I had been on this planet for nearly two months now. It was slowly beginning to feel normal to me. When I thought of how terrified I'd been when I landed in Karthos Bend without any ability to communicate with others or a roof over my head, or even shoes on my feet, my body remembered the sensations more than my mind did. My mind had begun to feel that it was silly for me to have been afraid. Keff was right there to help, and as he had said, I would have inevitably found my way to Betiara if the forge was fully attended. My body, however, remembered the all-encompassing fear I had felt. I still felt it to a degree. Karthos Bend had taught me that as well as things could possibly go, one random event was all that stood between me and losing everything. It taught me that nothing in life was secure. My emotions had yet to unwind from what I'd been through, and it felt like it would be a long time before they even began to slacken into the 'normalcy' I had felt before. Sekvi, Keff, Lilika, Rags and Betiara were my only source of hope. That was likely why I felt so eager to drift wherever their currents carried me.
Solitude, during the rare times I could find it, was a boon to me. I would disappear into the cargo hold when I wasn't otherwise needed. The unnerving sounds of creaking wood quickly became more tolerable in the shallow, low-lit space. I would nap here, or think, or study translations whenever I had free time. These breaks in near constant engagement with others allowed me to regulate my tumultuous emotions. Betiara once joined me while she was a wolf. I could tell we were feeling the same way, and we didn't interact beyond exchanging pettings for her head gently resting against my leg. Her presence didn't tax me whatsoever. She couldn't speak in this form, and there was ultimately no need for either of us to do so. We simply sat and felt together while she showed me in the gentlest way that she was there for me. The cramped space below deck made our time together feel all the more expansive. When I emerged from my reclusion, she was waiting for me in hybrid shape, and we shared another kiss.
We passed several settlements along the way. Most were villages, housing anywhere from a few dozen to a few hundred people. There was a terraced village about a day's travel from Letvel that was built into the hillside of the Tagat River. A stone retaining wall kept the lower road in place, and comfortably carried carts that made their way both East and West, parallel to the river. Several people waved at us, and we waved in return. Lilika and I enjoyed the idea of living in a small, quiet little place, tucked into the hillside away from larger settlements. We imagined the peace and quiet such a life could afford, similar to the windswept smattering of wood that she had previously enjoyed. The others, however, preferred to imagine themselves in larger settlements. Betiara added the caveat of surrounding, ample wilderness to her ideal. I understood why she felt this way; she needed somewhere to run, somewhere to explore and be wild. My curiosity was piqued once again by this fact. It would be nice to experience that kind of existence for myself so that I could better understand my potential partner.
The most eventful chapter of our travel came in the form of a flood that followed us down the river. A few days of strong sunlight were followed by heavy storm clouds. The deck had become slick with rain, which required us all to move with utmost concern. I noticed the water level rising at the same time the captain realized our increased speed of travel. My task was to keep an eye on the boat's freeboard while he steered. The rain became so heavy that at one point, I was the only person on deck. My cloak kept me dry enough, and I was sure to tie my staff to my wrist in case she ship bucked hard enough for me to lose my grip. The arrival of a crewmate to relieve me left me so joyous that I let him borrow my cloak for the span of his task. I was far wearier than I had realized by the time I returned to the crew's quarters for a simple meal of tack and ale. Later that night, we were awoken to a cry of alarm as we were headed for a block in the river. A mass of trees had fallen into the river ahead of us and threatened to damage the boat. I cast my Shatter spell for the first time, which handily reduced the wood to a flurry of splinters as we continued forward. Deep sleep welcomed me as I staggered back to bed.
Spending a month and a half on a river boat, while physically and socially stable, was not my favorite experience. I had grown from the experience in spite of that fact. Receiving assurance, support and commonality from the others and the crew kept me going during the depths of my distressed wanderlust. They helped me feel more confident in myself while I learned to simultaneously navigate a boat and a new language. Common was a simpler language than English, which further enabled my progress. There were times when my necklace was pocketed so that I could fully immerse myself in practice without any aid. I felt like I was performing the linguistic equivalent of manual math, entirely without a calculator. In turn, I taught the others some simple, practical phrases in English for the sake of their own curiosity. We had fun observing our respective accents. It was a nice way to lessen the pressure of functional intelligibility that had frustrated me on occasion. Day by day, we all grew closer together, and the thought of going our separate ways after reaching Nereved retreated further and further from our minds.
The Tagat River carried us to lower elevations, and the air around us slowly warmed along our journey. Spring finally making its true arrival ushered that process forward. The cinder block Sekvi had negotiated from another vessel eventually came to reside in my bag, wrapped inside my pajamas. This change was temporary, however, as the nights on the ship became colder due to the winds that howled over land that grew flatter and flatter around us. The thick, deciduous forests began to thin into more familiar styles of trees reminiscent of oak and birch, then disappeared almost entirely in the transition to the steppe. The only trees we could see over the distant expanses now afforded to us were concentrated around bodies of water. Vast, golden brown meadowlands stretched out before us. We could see our destination days before we were to reach it. It began as a grayish dot on the horizon, but slowly morphed into the true silhouette of a city. Our anticipation grew as we drifted closer to the spot of gray during the day, a dot of light at night. Lilika lamented the distance she would likely have to travel in order to properly see the stars.
I felt a sense of accomplishment as the big city slowly assumed more space on the horizon. This long journey to Nereved was nearing its end. Boredom had been wrangled along the way, roots deepened, language and life lessons learned. As grating as it could be to so consistently be around so many other people, I started to feel the anxiety inspired by the arrangements wane slightly. It helped that we were all here to accomplish the same thing. A common cause became a common assumption. The previous view of a shrinking Letvel set against snow-capped peaks and boreal forest contrasted starkly with a much bigger city that towered above the prairie surrounding it. Beyond Nereved, I began to see a distant sea with a span of marshland surrounding the delta of the Tagat River. Trade caravans that had dotted the roadways throughout our journey were becoming more numerous as we approached the city. I heard songs drifting toward us on occasion. Sekvi joined them enthusiastically when they heard a familiar song. We all gathered upon the deck to celebrate the next day's arrival. A veritable party was thrown in the wake of our successful mission. As the reserves of ale couldn't be easily carried through the crew's return trip, we made great use of it during that last night. For the first time in my life, I danced, arm in arm with Betiara to the sprightly tune of an orcish folk song.
My musings only filled me with anticipation as we approached the dock. The Tagat River bisected the city between eastern and western halves, with its lower terraces comprising the dock as bridges and buildings soared overhead. Nereved's center had been built over a split hill, with roads layering downward as they spread away from the center overhead. We slowly passed the thick stone walls that surrounded the city that allowed us to get a look at its lowest circle. Busy markets, towering tenement buildings and several curved bridges over the river greeted our sight. It was wondrous for what I had assumed to be the technological level of the Cradle; the engineering work that kept this city afloat was an absolute marvel. Tiered central supports planted in the center of the river supported the bridges that shadowed the lower levels while providing an organized lane of passage along either side of the river. A great, arch that curved into a hemispherical support structure covered the interior areas of constructed harbors, mirrored on both sides of the hill. The shapely, clean appearance of the environment gave me the impression that the bones of the city were well maintained.
We diverted right to enter the docks under the protective bulwark of the East half of the city. The crew moored the ship and began unloading its cargo, their way lit by the light of evenly spaced street lamps. With parting sentiments of appreciation to the crew and the captain, our group of water-weary survivors exited the boat and took a moment to feel dry land once more. "It's not moving," I realized aloud. What a feeling it was to stand on solid ground. "Wow."
"You're telling me," Keff sighed as he took in our surroundings.
"It's warmer here," Lilika observed as a small visual of sunshine formed above her outstretched palm. "It's nice. We're in for a clear morning."
"I await the view afforded by the administrative center. It's simply unparalleled."
"We should get going," Betiara urged, her eyes scanning the dock for any signs of ill attention. "We need lodgings, food... maybe a map of this place."
"I'll make sure we don't get lost, sweetie."
"Lead the way, Blue."
"Happily! Troupe, with me! We make for city hall." Sekvi was the only one of us that had previously been to Nereved, so we followed them along the docks. There was a checkpoint at either end which we were inevitably subjected to. Our letter had preceded our arrival, so we faced only minimal scrutiny as we entered. It was still an unpleasant experience to be examined so thoroughly. Lilika, Sekvi and I were asked of our arcane specialty, while Betiara was advised to assume her half-elven shape during our time in the city. She refused. After some back and forth and a few looks of uncertainty passed in Lilika's direction, we were allowed into the city. A road that split between a flat level and one that sloped upward met us as we began our journey toward the city center. We took the sloped path on the right, passing homes and businesses that were uniformly built into the hillside. The facades of the structures lined the street with a normality that suggested a strict architectural standard. Sunlight poured upon us once more as we reached the halfway point of the first ramped road of many. Our path onward felt brighter than ever below the orange light of morning.