The airship took off on the same night that I boarded.

It was my first time riding on one, and I found myself on the deck as the engines flared to life. Deep inside the ship. They hummed with the subtle vibration of roiling magic, like an activated mana cauldron, rumbling and sputtering as magic was condensed and amplified. The sounds inside stabilized into a quiet buzz.

The runes on the hull lit up.

I peered down from the edge of the deck, leaning over the rails as the lightening runes flared to life. The ship’s wings turned, twisted. Like fish’s fins, made of thick canvas and sturdy livewood, and they began to swing.

I’d never seen a boat in my life. But the Singing Tree had shown me images as a child. Of packed longboats, pushing over seas with the rowing of a hundred men. The airship’s wings were just like that—oars, giant spoons that scooped at the air and directed the ship up, up, and up. We rose. A hundred feet at first, then a thousand. I watched the land shrink. I saw the druidcrafted homes I’d stayed in turn into small blots on the ground, the Shissavi on the walls reminiscent of ants over a nest.

The horizon expanded as we rose. Away from the crags and the valleys, the cliffsides ahead of us climbed ever-higher, while a vast sea of clouds churned in the west. Below it were the flooded lowlands. The very same grounds I’d tread on just weeks ago.

My journey had taken me through them. And now I was far—farther away than I thought imaginable just a year ago.

I shook my head.

No. I supposed now that was twenty-two years ago, now that I’d finally stopped avoiding the truth. Much time had passed since my Name was taken away. More years than I’d lived. It was strange, thinking that father was only sixty-three when I left.

Now he would be eighty-four. At the thought, a bitter smile filled my face.

Trolls rarely lived to a hundred.

But at the very least, it would be nice to stay and celebrate his ninetieth. Six years. Such a short time, but it was likely the most I had. Once I was home, I was going to—

“Boo!”

A pair of hands shoved me from behind and I screamed and stumbled and tipped over and saw the edge of the ship, beginning to fall, past the edge, into the open—until a hand closed over my shoulder and stopped my fall. I stared at the bottom, far below. My heart thundered in my chest even as the hand pulled me back.

Then I turned and glared at Aami, whose shoulders were shaking in soundless laughter.

“Stop laughing,” I said, indignant. “It’s not funny. I could have died.”

She shook her head, the laugh fading into a grin. Aami took a spot beside me and leaned back on the rails. “You can fly better than any bird I’ve ever eaten,” she said. “A little fall won’t kill you.”

I snorted, “Yeah, but a heart attack will. Mine practically stopped.”

“Spice is the danger of life.”

My brows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

“It’s a saying. Priscia says it.”

“I’m pretty sure you got that wrong.”

This time, it was Aami’s turn to frown, “What? No. That’s what Priscia said. ‘Spice is the danger of life.’”

“You sure it wasn’t ‘danger is the spice of life?’” There was a pause before her face flushed. I laughed, nudging her with an elbow as she turned her face away. “Or maybe it was ‘life is the danger of spice?’”

She glared at me, the tips of her ears red. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Not always,” I grinned. “Slack me some cut.”

Aami looked at me, confused, until that confusion gave way to realization. Then irritation. The shoggoth narrowed her eyes at me and pushed. Again. Stronger. I toppled over the side of the deck without resisting, cackling at her even as she crossed her arms in affront. The wind rushed at me as I fell. It coiled around me, cool, twisting, sending my hair aflutter and my cloak whipping around me.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the fall. One, three, five. The seconds passed with the sound of rushing wind. Then I opened my eyes, smiled, and brought my bansuri to my lips.

.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐

Galesong. The wind carried me up. All the weight of my body fell away and I rose, the wind obeying my every whim. It brought me to the ship in the sky. Up and next to the lip of the deck, where Aami tried her best to glare, but failed. She lowered her crossed arms and smiled instead.

“Done being sulky?” she asked. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

I lowered the bansuri, but the echo of the song continued around me, sustaining my flight. I smiled wryly, “What can I say? I’m a tortured artist.”

She snorted, amused, and I turned in the air. I extended a hand towards her.

“Want to take a walk?”

She took it and smiled, “Sure.”

I pulled her up and over the railings, then forward. Out into the open air. Her feet set down on solid wind, steady as stone and solid as steel. Playing a soft song on my bansuri, I led us forward, calming the roaring winds in the sky. Here in upper Caereith, the breeze was wilder. More primal. It roared and swept and rushed, blowing apart clouds only to sweep them back into giant clumps.

The gusts were strong today. Enough that the airship’s force shields were turned on, just to dampen the occasional headwind. I walked out of that force shield with Aami, watching as the wind battered the clouds. The mist raced all around us, unable to release the usual rain despite the weight of water in the air.

My music calmed the wind before it reached us, leaving only a breeze to brush against us. Aami ran her hand along one of the thicker clouds. White vapor trailed behind her hand. Like cotton, chasing after her fingertips.

“Every time I feel like I’ve experienced the most I can about something, the world always surprises me. We flew through the clouds before, but never like this. Never like it was just to relax. It makes me realize that I’ve seen the forest, but never all the things below the leaves. And knowing that I can just come down and see it any time I want?”

She smiled.

“It’s a wonderful feeling.”

I kept pace beside her, lowering my bansuri from my lips. We walked across the cloudscape like two wandering wisps, weightless and free, a little bubble of peace within a raging windstorm. I raised an eyebrow her way.

“Changing priorities from making friends to seeing the world?”

“Why not both? It’s not like the roads are empty.”

“They are up here.”

My hand motioned around us, to the empty world of mist and sky. I preferred it to the road. The silence of the sky. The kind of peace that could only be brought forward by the overwhelming howling of wind.

Aami shrugged, “Well, we’re going to have to take the ground once you get to showing me other places.”

“So I’m your chauffeur now, am I? How tiresome.”

“Look at you, pretending like you don’t enjoy having me around.”

“Would you rather I be honest?”

She thought for a moment. Aami frowned, “No,” she said. “That somehow feels weird.”

“See? My lack of emotional honesty is my charm.”

“And you call me tiresome.”

I laughed and things between us fell into silence. Aami hummed something under her breath and I occasionally brought my bansuri up, playing a few notes to sustain the Galesong. We walked in peace for that while, keeping pace with the airship as it cut through the clouds. It was fast. Quicker that a speeding wagon. But even still, in the grand scheme of things, it covered so little ground.

My eyes turned up towards the sky, up at the stars beyond the cloud mist.

“There’s more to the world than just forests,” I started, and Aami turned her head to me in interest. I began counting on my fingers. “Ilbithar has caves as big as entire continents. Father used to tell me stories about it—about how some chambers can hold entire cities, while some are hidden, hiding riches under the bedrock. Then there’s Cassima—a crystal desert. Home of the Novi, where the sands are sapphire and amethyst and onyx, and where giant spires of magical crysts go past the clouds. Ibbeathis is a world of water without a surface. Deeper than any lake or flood I’ve ever seen. Astalon has oceans of water and ash. Mithil’s islands float in the sky. The Everfrost has snow so white it blinds the eyes.”

I closed my eyes, recalling all the words I heard from all the passing riftwalkers and otherworlders of my childhood. People like humans and nereids and novi, who hailed from other realms. They came to Caereith to see our forests. And just like them, I wanted to come to their world and see the sights myself. I wanted to write songs about wonders I would never find here.

And now that I was an immortal, I had all the time in the world to do just that. My condition was a curse to me, true. It took everything I had away.

But didn’t it also open the world for me to see?

I smiled at the thought. A curse, turned into a blessing. That sounded nice. And it sounded even nicer with company. I turned my eyes to Aami, walking beside me. I offered her a hand. A trade without a price.

“I want to have a look at these things as well. And I will. Do you want to come with me?”

She took it and grinned, “Maybe you aren’t so bad when you’re honest after all.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Of course.”

Aami brought my hand up and curled her pinky around mine—a familiar gesture of promise, often made by children. I blinked up at it, then up at her. Up in the sky, her eyes twinkled with adventure. It was a dare to me. A challenge to live up to the promise of seeing the world.

Her eyes narrowed into a mischievous grin, “Partners?”

I smiled and closed my pinky around hers.

“Partners.”

By the time we returned to the ship, it was already time for supper. So I returned to my room while Aami did what she did best—eat. Since I regained a fraction of my Name, hunger returned to me. But it was rare. And at worst, faint. I’d already eaten days ago during the feast, and despite the time since, my stomach still felt full.

So instead of mingling with the crew inside the ship, I retired to my room. Aami and Priscia could have fun without me. They were the ones cooking up a feast for the crewmates, after all. I was perfectly content with sitting in a bed and venting my exhaustion until I passed out.

One perk of partial mortality was the return of sleep. I didn’t realize just how much I missed it until it was back by my side.

But that would come later. Tonight, I was going to be busy with other things.

Tiresome things.

I sat on my bed, and the shadow at my feet rose. Traveler stood up from the ground and faced me. The man wore his usual sharktooth grin, peering down at me with his silver eyes, the rest of his face obscured by the darkness of his hood. He looked around the small room that had been assigned to me and nodded.

“Finally alone eh, chief?” he said, shaking his head. “These past few weeks have been so busy that I ain’t been making good on my promise, but that changes now. Promise. I’ll even pinky swear ya, if ya want me to.”

He gave me an amused grin that I didn’t return.

“You’ve been real quiet lately.”

“Only ‘cause of your noise complaints, chief. I’m a tenant that knows how to comply.”

“You’re suspicious, you know that?”

“S’part of the vibe I like to give off. Nothing speaks to the soul more than a mysterious persona, eh? But ah, but not all suspicious people mean harm. Some are just misunderstood.”

“And which of the two are you?”

“Neither, 'cause I'm a very special man,” Traveler said, shrugging. He paced around my room, before stopping by the door. He leaned against the wall. Right next to the door. “I’m a business partner, chief. I ain't an enemy or a bleeding heart. Just a shadow that wants a nice, reliable partnership with a clever newcomer.”

Facing him, I shook my head, standing up from the bed. I picked my lute up from the bedside, then put a hand to my hip, checking for my bansuri. It was holstered in its leather holder like always—ready to be drawn any time I needed it.

I faced Traveler with a sigh.

“You’ve already used a third of the favors I owe you. So start doing your part and stop wasting time. I’ve got a hell of a headache, and sleep is the last thing I want you keeping me from. We start today. Now. And we finish as quickly as we can.”

Grinning, Traveler bobbed his head, nodding along to each word.

“’Course, ‘course. S’cuse me for taking so long, chief. Let’s finish up quick today so you can get back to moping about, yeah?”

He turned and clasped the doorknob. Traveler opened the door.

And darkness waited on the other side.

Avnlasce.

The black void stretched on endlessly, nothing else in sight. As he opened the door, several presences flooded my room, heavy and powerful, from distant titans drifting in the darkness. Traveler motioned to the other side.

“Cross on over, and I’ll teach you how to play those instruments for real, chief. Like a real immortal should.”

His grin widened further as he faced me.

“Immortality 101 starts now.”