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The worldgate had opened to another temperate forest, not giving an immediate clue if it was leading where Sylvie was hoping, but not long after, night fell. It was clear enough to introduce Sammeh to three of Eodea's moons, even if speaking did not come easily. Finally home, or closer than she had been in years, at last.

The next morning they found a point from which they saw fields and a paved street. The street had milestones telling Sylvie they were close to the city of Konda, the greatest port on the northern continent. The locals may have given them slightly longer looks than many other travellers got, but found them mildly unusual rather than a spectacle. Sylvie found Sammeh a very quick study learning the Seafarer tongue that would serve well both in Konda and Yrn. The two together found passage on a ship, the captain having use for a mage who could work with wood. What was hard to find on a ship, of course, was privacy.

The little things would do. Touch there, a conversation there. A kind of optimism had seemed to settle with Sammeh, who took the ship as a sort of natural place to sit and observe things. The rigging. The knots. The knots, especially. The design of the sails; ship etiquette and habits. It lasted only so long until he began to field questions not only to Sylvie but the sailors too.

Soon enough he was busying himself in small ways. He had wisely, perhaps, kept himself out of the cook's way (reasoning to Sylvie that there were people he didn't ever upset if he could help it, and that cooks on de facto oases were one such group) but managed to find himself dealing with the more menial things with no complaints. Much of the time, however, he found himself near Sylvie, either tinkering with something or just gauging how she was doing. Her journey home wasn't over yet, and he wasn't about to forget that little detail.

Nor was he given to ignoring other little details, like when the crew and the ship started to give signs that it was starting to be time to stare at the horizon and the sky for signs of being close to that home. He paid even more attention then. Most of it, he picked up from Sylvie, from the moment the first birds showed up.

Sylvie had thrown herself into work, but nearly three months in, no weaknesses in the hull or masts remained unfixed, and no rats' nest unrustled, and inspecting the freshwater and food supplies made sense only so often. With no way to vent her nervous energy, she was constantly on edge, easily startled.

The signs that they were getting closer if anything made it worse. She tried to keep up appearances, but smiles that did not reach her eyes and faded quickly and tension pulling her in on herself hinted at her anticipation being not of the joyful kind.

When Yrn was sighted at the horizon, she found a place at the railing, but after a short look did not watch the island, but looked for something north of it.

Just like much of the time during the three months, pushing too hard didn't feel like the right thing to do. But as things came to a head and they weren't stuck in the middle of the ocean, Sammeh decided it was time to give her a nudge. He settled neatly into Sylvie's personal space, touching a piece of clothing near her elbow, nearly tugging, and looked first at the island proper. He decided he could afford to look at it some more later.

So he looked to the north of it too, then watched Sylvie's profile. "Fresh fruit for your thoughts?"

"Hmmmm." She leaned against him lightly, glad of the distraction, and gave him a small, lopsided smile. "I'm trying to think happy thoughts, but they want to worry instead."

The half-elf nodded and looked toward the island again. "I don't have fresh fruit, but I'm betting there will be some over there." He paused for a moment, thinking about the decking under his feet. "Lots or a few scenarios?"

"Ahh... Two main problems. Apologising to my mother for leaving in a huff and never writing back, and hoping she forgives me... if she's still alive, that is." Sylvie tried to put a self-deprecating I-know-this-is-silly spin on her tone at that last point, but after a breath continued soberly, "And second, I'm wondering in how much trouble I will be with my school for staying away longer and... straying much further than planned." She leaned in close, lowered her voice, and switched to the language they had spoken in Canyet, which no-one here could possibly understand. "Worlds beyond this are a difficult topic, and I did not study the laws before leaving, because I wasn't planning..." She raised a hand and shoulder in a half-shrug.

"I'd expect a catharsis of sorts," Sammeh finally responded in the same language, instead of trying to wrangle the meaning out in the new cant he was getting into. He anchored himself as firmly as he could to facilitate Sylvie leaning against him, and considered the view and presence together. "If she's still alive, and I hope she is. The second part I'll have to see to better understand. I have some nagging questions about the law and precedent, too. I'm of the opinion your mother is more pressing a matter, though."

There was a pause before Sylvie answered. "I don't think so? If she decides to never speak with me again, I have lost her. If I get banished, I lose everyone, her included."

"And if you don't try to talk to her at all, you've already lost her nonetheless. Seems like worse odds to me." He was silent for a while, then pinched himself.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 05/30/2018 08:00PM by Neverwashere.

Sylvie leaned away from Sammeh and stared at him. "If I was that risk-averse, I would have asked if you knew a nice place for us to settle down, not try to return here."

He stared back, tilting his head. "I have a feeling that might have been worse."

"Well. We might have to fall back on that, if things go wrong." After a shrug and an exasperated sigh, she switched back to the local common language. "Anyway, I want to try to talk to my mother first, and then I need to hand in my diary at the school. We'll see what comes from that."

Her eyes caught the dark blotch in the sea she had been looking for. Of course the chasm was still there. She frowned, exasperated at her own circling worries.

The half-elf responded to the exasperated sigh with a shrug of his own. Switched languages. "Very well, charming," he said, after watching her a moment longer. Then he looked at the water, and over it. Finally, he resorted to base tactics. "And maybe a taste other than cook's cooking." Sammeh still maintained a carefully respectful tone whenever he spoke of the cook, but just choosing those words was a message of its own.

Sylvie turned, propping her elbow on the railing, and gave him her full attention. "Finding some fresh fruit should be no problem."

"Ye-es," Sammeh said, having considered the benefits of fresh fruit. It had left him with a strange gleam in his eye. Something young. "Something that you can eat while you walk. Thinking fruit."