“God damned stupid… I have no idea how to do this.”

Summers stared at the journal in front of him. He’d found it in one of the few stalls that had popped up around the city. Synel had loaned him a stick of something resembling sharpened charcoal to write with, which was apparently rare given the woman’s insistence that he return it.

As of now he was trying his best to record any and all things that were important to him. The idea was to make sure he couldn’t forget anything. Or if he did, he’d at least have something to jog his memory. It was something Cortez of all people had suggested. The problem was he had no idea where to start. After all, how do you summarize a lifetime of information, and how do you know which is the most important.

“You ready?”

Summers looked up from his writing to find Nowak in the doorway.

“Yeah…”

Summers closed the journal picking up a small bag as he headed to join Nowak. It was time to set out again.

They came upon the ship they’d be spending the next two months on soon after. It reminded Summers of a longship, like the one he’d seen being constructed. Or maybe a galley. Something close enough to the two that Summers’ uncultured eye couldn’t tell the difference. Either way, it was impressively massive. Oars stuck out from holes below deck where white bone cradled the vessel like a ribcage. Synel had taken a room for herself in there somewhere while Summers and the others were given a closet sized space of their own. They couldn’t complain, each of them had joined up knowing that sailing with this level of technology wouldn’t be pleasant. Hell, the fact they got a room at all probably cemented their status as VIP’s.

The captain came to greet them a few moments later. He was a pudgy, boisterous man that spoke more in the sing-songy cadence Asle used than any of the other elves.

“We’ll be setting out in an hour. Will you be needing anything else?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Synel remarked from the boat. Asle stood beside her, looking down at Summers and Nowak.

The captain turned to regard them for a moment before inclining his head and heading off to yell at a few sailors loading crates onto the bow.

“I would suggest you be careful around our dear captain.” Synel moved closer to Summers, making sure to stay out of earshot of the sailors bustling around the dock. “He’s made a living conning merchants like me into believing he can read the ‘mood’ of the sea. Don’t misunderstand, he’s talented, but I would not trust someone that would use a lie where the truth would do.”

“Fair enough.” Summers eyed the man that began to hustle half-drunk rowers onto the deck. Asle trailed behind Synel, pointedly looking away. “Asle, we can still find you a place here. You know that, right?”

Synel looked pointedly back at him.

“I have some very capable companions I’m certain will be able to handle any problems we encounter.”

Summers saw the corner of Synel’s mouth twitch as she finished. Asle just continued looking away, but he could see how tense she was holding herself.

“If you’d like…” Synel continued. “I could have one of my associates find another ship to charter, however, my apprentice and I will be heading out today.”

“No.” Summers looked to the others, they’d already made their decision. “It’s fine.”

“It’s decided then. I’ll see you two on deck, we should be heading out shortly.”

Synel inclined her head before moving to the slowly growing stack of supplies that were being loaded aboard.

Summers sighed, watching her go.

“Why do I feel like I’m being manipulated every time I talk with that woman?”

“Because you are.” Asle explained.

Summers glanced down at the girl. Synel had assured them she wouldn’t be stupid enough to march into dangerous territory, and if things proved to be too much, she could easily find safe haven in one of the southern cities.

He dearly hoped that was true.

“Commander!”

Summers turned to find Pat, Orvar, and the twins, once again, holding a hand up in the local rendition of a wave.

“Again, not a commander.” Summers replied before waving them on board the ship.

Nearly every one of the elves that had “vowed” their lives to the group had taken up positions in the cities’ guard when it was offered. They’d given each a rifle as a “gift” to sweeten the deal for the city, but kept the rest of the ammo and supplies for themselves. Part of that had been because they simply couldn’t afford to move, let alone feed that many living bodies. That, and they didn’t entirely see what help that many elves could be against what they’d seen. At best, they’d be cannon fodder to creatures like the hamr, at worst, they’d be an active hinderance. If the two companies they’d lost hunting in this world were any indication, a hundred trained soldiers couldn’t stand up against the kinds of things they’d seen. It was easier for a small group to move around, and hopefully avoid any big trouble.

The city had, of course, readily welcomed their barely trained protectors. And Summers had been able to negotiate about five-thousand more rounds from the deal. With their reduced body count, that made things a little more manageable.

Most of the elves were grateful, some embarrassingly so. Summers had assumed that Pat would have taken the same deal in a heartbeat, given this place was his home, his families’ home, and somewhere he could live in comfort for the rest of his life.

He’d been wrong.

Pat must have taken their offer as something of a test of loyalty. The man had pestered, begged, and all but threatened Summers to be brought along when they’d announced they were leaving. Orvar was so quiet he really had no idea how or why he’d come. And the twins… they’d just talked excitedly between one another as they dragged a large trunk Summers was sure was Pat’s behind him. Given the snippets of conversation he’d managed to overhear, he could say for certain they thought of this as an adventure.

“…Core pore el Summers.” Pat amended.

Summers looked at the man as he stood at attention along with the others.

It occurred to Summers over the last few days that these were probably some of the most elite troops in the city. They’d been trained to fire a gun, and a few had even been decent marksmen.

“Pat, buddy, you know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“I owe you too much to turn away now, my friend.”

“…Look, we can’t guarantee we can protect you. I know it seems like -”

“You and your people helped us when you had every reason not to.” Pat looked at both him and Nowak in turn. “We stood by knowing what Rhodes was doing because we were afraid. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Pat bowed low, the others copying him almost immediately.

Summers looked to Nowak who stepped forward.

“…Fine.” Nowak muttered. “I dub thee privates. Get on board.”

He gestured to the boat.

Pat strode forward with more than a little pride.

Summers could only watch as they weaved through the bustling crowd.

“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.”

“Pretty sure I’m beyond giving a shit.” Nowak replied.

“On the bright side, we’re going to have to explain to the army what happened here. Having a diplomat like Pat representing the city is probably a plus.” Summers glanced over at Nowak.

“You know it’s probably rude to keep calling him Pat like that, right?” Nowak side-eyed Summers. “I mean, he’s a prince.”

“His full name is Payrst den tredje Palna-Toki Klingenbeorn and I am 90% sure I’m pronouncing that wrong.”

“…Pat it is.” Nowak agreed.

The ship was surprisingly more stable than Summers had expected. What it was not was comfortable. He sat beside Nowak and Cortez shoulder to shoulder, they were doing their best to stay out of the way of the sailors that milled around the ship doing whatever it was sailors did. Every so often he’d hear a shout from below deck as the rowers moved to keep pace.

“This is hell. I’m in hell and you people have brought me here.” Cortez glared at them.

She wasn’t doing too well on the water. She’d sat, hunched over, doing her best not to vacate her stomach the entire trip.

“Is this why you didn’t want to go?” Nowak looked at her, concerned.

“…Maybe.”

Summers watched as a set of sailors busied themselves adjusting the sails to the yells of their captain. He was screaming something about bad omens and spirits, with the occasional glance in their direction. Something told Summers it was more for show than anything. Not that he minded as there was quite literally nothing for them to do.

“How long do we have to do this again?” Cortez groaned.

“Two months.” Nowak glanced back at the woman. “It’ll get us to San Francisco bay, or whatever’s there in this world.”

“Lot of stops along the way.” Summers ventured. “Maybe we can find something for seasickness. If that’s a thing for elves.”

Cortez only groaned in response.

Summers looked back as Orvar approached from below deck. He spotted them almost immediately, moving to bow in front of them.

“If I could I take a moment of your time…?” Orvar bowed even deeper as he spoke.

Summers quirked an eyebrow before he managed to remember his ‘manners’. He’d known the man for about a month now. It was rare to get a word out of Orvar at the best of times, let alone a full sentence.

“I was hoping I could continue my training.” Orvar continued.

Summers glanced to the others for a moment before replying.

“Much as I’d like to, I don’t think we could afford to use the ammo. We can try some dry fire drills but…”

“I apologize, I was hoping to train with Ms. Cortez.” Orvar corrected himself.

Summers looked from Orvar, to Cortez, then back again.

“I’m only saying this because I like you. If you’re trying to flirt with her, she will kill you.”

“Hand to hand combat.” Orvar replied quickly. “The soldiers in the city spoke highly of her. And you as well…” He added.

Summers had considered trying a few hand to hand classes with his squad during their training, but he was more worried he’d kill one of them by accident with his ‘condition’.

“All right, I heard him say my name, what’s going on?” Cortez looked at Summers questioningly.

Summers turned to Cortez, speaking English. “…He wants you to train him? Close quarters combat.”

“Great. I need the distraction.” Cortez got lazily to her feet, doing her best to stay level. “Let’s find somewhere I can kick your ass.”

It had been a week since they set sail.

Asle sat working on an exercise that Synel had set out for her. She was a good reader, in fact it was something she enjoyed, but the woman seemed determined to change that. Over the past week she’d read no less than fifteen books. Some were introductions to various economic principles, stories of clever merchants and the ways they’d made their way in the world, and one especially trite romance Synel insisted was an ‘excellent personality study’.

She didn’t see the point of the last one but had read it all the same.

Now the woman sat beside her, pointing to the men that strode across the deck.

“And who is that.” Synel indicated a sailor climbing netting attached to the mast.

“Voggr.” Asle answered immediately. “He’s new to the ship.”

“Good.” Synel inclined her head approvingly.

Through the entire trip she’d stressed the importance of knowing the people around you, even if it was only a temporary arrangement. In part, it was polite, and good manners would usually translate to more business.

“And what is his weakness?” Synel continued.

“Coin.” Asle indicated the ratty shoes on the man’s feet. “The captain brought him on for a low wage. He was desperate for the job.”

“Very good.” Synel indicated the portly man at the far end of the ship. “And what about the captain himself?”

Asle had to think about that one. She could, of course, just give the same answer. When dealing with people, especially those that worked job to job as sailors did, coin was an especially safe answer.

“His lie.” Asle finally responded. “I think he really believes what he says, about spirits, and the water. If you were to praise him for it or find a way to show others it’s ‘real’, I think that would win him over.”

“Excellent.” Synel laid a hand on top of Asle’s head. “Now let’s try something harder.” Synel’s eyes fell on Summers as he sat beside his friends, looking out to the ocean. “What about our mutual friends? What do you think their weakness is?”

Asle paused at that. There was the one obvious answer, the reason they’d been stuck in the city in the first place, and why so many people had died.

“…Me?”

Synel rolled her eyes, tapping Asle on the head gently. “Wrong. They act before they think. Besides which, they’re mostly good people. And don’t belittle yourself in front of me again. I won’t have anyone slandering your good name.”

Asle had to repress a smile.

“Though those are strengths as well.” Synel explained. “One of the many things I admire about them.”

Asle watched them for a moment before turning away.

Synel must have noticed something on her face because she tapped Asle’s head a little harder this time.

“You know you should talk to them.” Synel prompted.

“They don’t want me.”

“They are worried for you which is an entirely different matter.” Synel stood. “Besides, there will almost certainly come a time when you’ll have to say goodbye. You should enjoy the people around you while they last.”

Asle glanced back as she descended below deck, leaving her to her thoughts.

It was a few hours later when Asle headed back below deck that she found Cortez in the hallway.

Asle tried to move past Cortez who only moved in her way once again. The woman was scowling down at her.

Asle just looked back. “… Are you mad at me?”

“Maybe. Are you avoiding us?” Cortez leaned down, looking Asle in the eye.

“No.”

Cortez considered her a moment before her frown softened.

“Not mad at you…” Cortez opened the door to her quarters and flopped onto the hammock inside. “It’s just that my stomach is trying to kill me. I want to kill everyone on board, present company excluded. And after that last spar I’m pretty sure Orvar’s going to be peeing blood for a week. So, not a great mood.”

Cortez gestured to the one chair in the room.

“Come. Sit.”

“I’m-“

“I’m not asking.” Cortez stressed. “Come on, others are above deck. It’s just us.”

Hesitantly, Asle did as she said, closing the door to clear the hall.

“How have you been feeling?” Cortez sat, studying Asle.

“Fine.” Asle lied.

”Okay, better question. Do you want to talk?”

After a moment Asle nodded.

“All right. So why are you so dead set on following us?” Cortez sat forward. “You know if we’d made it, we’d probably have to go to the city again, eventually. It’s not too late to go back.”

“I want to fix my mistakes.” Asle spoke low.

“Mistakes?” Cortez tilted her head. “You know you’re a kid, right?” She gestured to Asle in general. “You have nothing you need to prove to us. Shit, just getting us this far probably saved our asses more than once.”

Asle didn’t respond.

Cortez let out a breath.

“Can I tell you a story?” Cortez waited as Asle nodded. “Back when I was a kid my grandma used to take us to this… let’s call it a festival, back when we’d visited. Big firework show - they’re kind of like bullets, go up into the sky, and explode into colors. Prettiest thing I’d ever seen, they called it the burning of the bulls.”

“What are bulls?”

“Animals.” Cortez caught the look of surprise on Asle’s face. “They’re not actual bulls, it's just a name.” She added. “Anyway, it was amazing, lights, explosions, everything. Afterwards I found a this big pendejo in my hometown, ran a stand that sold fireworks. He spent most of his time drunk off his ass and didn’t see the problem with a kid spending her allowance on her own weight in explosives. I started to put on shows for the neighborhood every so often.”

Cortez smiled.

“So, I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t just hide that shit under my bed. I had this place in the forest, near where me and my friends would meet. One day, this kid got it into his mind that he could have his own private show, went to my stash, ended up killing himself.”

She paused.

“The other kids rolled when news got around. His parents blamed me. My family got death threats for a while and we had to move. Got the point where everywhere we went, that story would follow. Eventually, my family started treating me like the neighbors, I ended up in foster care. I dealt with the guilt of what I did for a long time."

Cortez took another breath.

“I dealt with the guilt of what I did for a long time. But you know what I learned?”

“…What?”

“I was wrong. I can’t control other people. What I did may have been stupid, but so was the kid, why should I blame myself for some stupid shit he did?” Cortez sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, everyone’s going to find someone to blame. Especially when there’s no one else left. So, don’t do it to yourself, already plenty of people out there that will give you shit for no reason other than existing. You get what I’m saying?”

Asle considered before she nodded again.

“…I think so.”

“Great.” Cortez sat up, heading to the door. “And don’t think we don’t appreciate you, all right? Kind of hurts our feelings when you keep to yourself like this. Now, I gotta go dry heave over the side of the boat.”

Asle watched as Cortez left a little faster than she would have expected. She sat there for a moment longer, thinking.

Summers had managed to struggle his way to the top of the rigging after some time. Strength, obviously, wasn’t an issue. It was more of a problem of leverage, balance, and a very sudden and acute fear of heights he’d developed by falling on his ass in the first few attempts.

They were nearing the first port, somewhere they’d hoped to top up on supplies, and he wanted to get a good look.

“What do you see?” Nowak called from down below.

Far, far in the distance, he could make out the barely visible silhouette of a tower on a hill. That must have been it.

“I -” Before Summers could answer, something rocked the boat. Summers managed to maintain his grip as the boat took on a very sudden, very awkward angle.

The captain shouted something and men with barrels rushed to the sides, dumping barrels overboard.

The shouting continued for some time as the others rushed to the side of the boat, looking out at the sea.

“What in the fuck was that?” Nowak asked Summers as he climbed down.

“I have no idea.”

Summers glanced to a barrel of what looked like stew. One of the deck hands was eyeing the water, looking ready to throw the barrel overboard at the first sign of… something.

Then a massive head breached the water alongside the ship. The deckhand wasted no time, heaving the barrel bodily over the side before grabbing something solid.

The boat rocked again, and Summers had to focus on keeping his footing.

The elves around him were yelling for more before the captain shut them down.

“It’s passed.”

Summers followed the captain’s gaze, looking at the creature that was now circling the few barrels they’d left behind.

It must have been chum of some kind, or bait.

“Won’t be a problem.” The captain must have seen Summers and Nowak staring. “The spirits are with us today. We’ll have no trouble getting to port.”

"...Right..."

All Summers could do was hope that was true.