The wards, as we discovered when we asked the innkeeper, were older than the town. Thousands of years prior to our arrival, a group of people looking to explore the Crescent Lake had found the bay and its stone piers already in place, along with the wards. They had built shelters there, and the first time the fog rolled in, they had noted that it was kept at bay by the yellow sparks. They had also discovered – to their dismay – that venturing out into it had... unfortunate consequences.

“They looked for other ports, but this be the only one, it do be. So, they stayed. Not having to eat means being trapped be an inconvenience, but that be all it be.”

The innkeeper had explained it all to us succinctly, using short sentences, giving little extraneous information. He seemed as bored as he had appeared when the bell rang, occasionally sipping from a large glass as he polished others.

“But... why stay at all? If it was thousands of years ago, surely you’ve explored everywhere by now?”

“You’d be surprised, lad, that you would do be. The Crescent is as deep as it is wide, and its floor be dotted with ruins like a spine shark be dotted with poison needles. Plenty of lost secrets and treasures to be found in the depths, that you do be best believing. But more’n that, we stay for the moon lotus. Grows on the lake floor, and only here beneath the Crescent.”

“What does it do to make it worth being trapped, the moon lotus?”

Darina seemed to have become caught up in the mystery despite herself; as much as the diminutive healer took most of the world in stride, I knew she was a pretty curious person, underneath her temper.

“Why, it be the alchemical ingredient that that makes booze strong enough to affect a cultivator, that it do be. The Alchemy Association come by to collect it once a year, and from it generate an additive that they ship all over the world. I imagine there do be other ingredients that do the same, but they do pay a fortune in other alchemy for it.”

The innkeeper winked and took a long swig from his glass; I could smell it from where I was, and it felt like it could peal the steal off a battleship. I had wondered how alcohol – which was effectively a poison – was affecting people fifty-or-more-times or hardier than normal - and it seemed like the answer was the same as most things: magic. But something did not quite add-up for me in the story.

“Wait, did you know these lotus things were here already? Why stay long enough to find them, if not?”

“I was not around, lad. I’m not that old. Mayhap Old Vought might know more details, but what I’ve told you is all I know, that it do be.”

“Old Vought?”

“You cannot miss him, oldest looking man you did ever see. Been a Pinnacle for the better part of five-hundred years, you’ve probably seen him about.”

“I think I know who you mean, I helped him with the ropes when the boats came back in.”

“Ships. But that sounds like where he’d be, that it do.”

“Thanks. I guess we’ll ask him. And then...” I looked at Darina with one raised eyebrow. “Our other plans.”

*

***

*

It actually took us a couple of days to fine Vought; the old man was distinctive, but apparently fairly reclusive, with a tendency to move faster than the majority of people could see. As a consequence, nobody seemed to know where he lived.

Eventually, after asking what felt like half the time, I went back to where I had last seen him, by the inn. I had met Old Vought three times since my arrival in Crescent Bay; the first time, when we had arrived, near the inn. The second time, when the bell had rung and we had helped with the boats, near the inn. And the third time, when we had a disagreement on the passage of time. Near the inn. Given that all of our meetings had taken place within sight of both the docks and where we were staying, I figured he likely lived somewhere close.

It was nearing late afternoon on the second day of our search, and Darina and I sat kicking our heals on a low wall, each of us facing a slightly different direction and holding a sign that read, “Old Vought, we would like to talk.” It had earned us some strange looks, and more than one passer-by had stopped to watch for a few minutes, the novelty enough to pass some time in the contained limbo in which we found ourselves. But that quickly wore off, and they left us alone in our wait.

We discussed many things, while waiting in the dim almost-night, the alchemical lights in soft blues and purples painting us in somber tones. We had spent a lot of time together at that point, but we rarely had time to really talk, as we were usually traveling, training or about to die. Even our imprisonment, to that point, had been mostly filled with our independent efforts to occupy ourselves. It was nice to just sit and talk, even if I was itching to be doing something.

“What was it like, your... home?”

The question came in a minor lull in the conversation and it surprised me; I had told my companions most of my full story, and while they had asked a lot of questions about Xiournal, they had asked few about Earth.

“It’s tough to say, it’s a lot like here, in a lot of ways, but not really. Things were smaller – a lot smaller. There were no gods, that we knew about for sure anyway. Less fighting, or rather, at the time when I... left, only some people fought. We had sorts of skyships, and we used them to leave the planet. When I left, we’d solved ageing for... almost everyone. And we’d figured out how to move through space faster than light. We were about to visit distant stars. There was virtually no sickness, nobody went hungry. Honestly, more like here than I thought, now I’m actually comparing. There was no magic though, no cultivation or alchemy. Everything was science. I guess you guys don’t need it so much, ‘cos you can solve problems in other ways.”

“We have science, but it is as you say, Hunter; we have other methods of solving problems, that frequently require less effort. Why did you leave?”

This was the part of my past I had not actually mentioned, my suicide. I did not like thinking about it; there was no feeling associated with my death, no visceral reaction. But thinking about it, almost clinically, felt wrong, somehow.

“When they solved ageing, a very small number of us couldn’t be treated. Everyone I knew was either dead, or young again. And I’d always wanted to visit the stars, and just when it was becoming available for everyone... I was too old, with no hope of getting younger. And then I got sick, really sick. I got my offer to come here not long after I got the news, and it seemed better than the alternatives.”

“I thought you said there was no sickness?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t as lucky then as I am now. Same thing that stopped me getting the treatment for ageing stopped the treatment for my illness. Actually, you could say I was pretty lucky, ‘cos otherwise I’d never have come here, and met you guys, Walker and Aella. Or anybody else.”

I had decided to keep my suicide to myself; it seemed like it was mostly a foreign state of being for my friends, a pernicious force kept at bay by other things. I did not think they would understand the drive to end yourself, the crushing despair. I had not been healthy – not just physically, but emotionally. But I was glad, in that moment. Because what I had said had been correct; if events had not happened exactly as they had, I would never have done the things I had done, visited the places I had visited, or met the everyone. Sure, that had involved lots of near death and some torture, but the overall experience was still five-stars, would recommend. Well, if not for the whole “death and specific metaphysical circumstances” thing.

Darina asked some more questions about Earth, seemingly fascinated by details I considered mundane, like the Internet or smartphones. I was about to attempt to explain Neuralink when a loud, gruff cough came from a short distance away, drawing my attention away from the healer.

The source of the cough was Old Vought, his craggy face set into a loose frown and leaning on his long, hooked spear.

“What do you be wanting, sitting in public with me name set on a sign? Can an old man not cultivate in peace, I have to hear me name whispered on the wind by half the town? I be late for me ascension already, without you holding me up, that I do be.”

His voice sounded irritated in the way that only the truly old can; it was something I was familiar enough with from my own time as a curmudgeon that I could pick out a note of curiosity underneath all the bluster. But I also knew well enough that he probably would not react well to me ignoring his grumpiness. Hopping to my feet, I set my sign down and offered the old man a light bow.

“Sorry about that! Didn’t mean to get in the way of your cultivation or anything. We had some questions about the wards, and we were told you might know more about them. Again, really sorry to disturb you.”

I could see Darina giving me a look out of the corner of my eye, one eyebrow raised in my direction. I almost stuck my tongue out at her, as it was not like I was always disrespectful and irreverent. I was polite and respectful at least half the time, especially when the person I was talking to could maybe tear my head off without any effort.

“Yes... forgive us, Honoured elder. My friend and I have a theory in regards to the mist, but it is predicated on knowing the nature of the wards. Do you know much about their origin? Or why the original settlers came to this place, and stayed?”

The old man scowled at us, and turned slightly, as if about to vanish on us again; I was disappointed, but it was not something I wanted to start a fight over. Luckily, Vought turned back to us with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Not here, you can at least be buying me a drink, that you can be.”

I gave a swift nod, and Darina and I followed him as he marched off towards the inn, muttering to himself about how slow young people were. I had to grin, as it was such a marked difference to what I was used to, which was made all the more apparent by my own memories, and the reminiscing I had been going through.

It took only a few moments for us to reach the inn, and we received a look of surprise from the innkeeper, still polishing glasses behind the bar. I guessed that he had not expected us to actually find the old man, but he did not know how hard I cheated.

I went and grabbed three drinks as Darina and Vought took seats, with the old man facing the door and the long spear close at hand. Setting glasses down, I took my own seat as our would-be storyteller took a long pull from the drink, not spilling even a single drop, despite the angle as which he tipped it.

“That do be better. Now, you both wanted to know about the town’s founding, and the wards? Settle back, I’ll tell you what I know, provided you promise not to bother me about it again?”

He looked at us hard, and after a moment, the healer and I gave reluctant nods, and he began to speak.