A new age was turning. It was not the age of discovery, as that had long since passed. All lands were reached, all places discovered, and all mysteries had subsided. This was the dawn of the modern era, where books and stories were the only places to find mystery and discovery. The general consensus was that the world had nothing more to offer, or at least nothing as interesting as in the past. One could easily come to the conclusion that they were born too late to discover, except all that was untrue. The world had no short of mysteries and things to explore, only that they were better hidden than anything found before them. Those who chose to listen to their heart and yearned for adventure were sure to discover something great. But before one could find something, one must depart, and after that was done, they would find out the truth, that was that they should get used to sea travel.

The ocean wind was blowing softly, with the waves hitting the sides of a wooden ship, sailing smoothly without sails. Sun shined brightly, almost a little too bright with such clear weather. There was nothing to see on the horizon, no ships, land, no giant monsters, only the tiny waves coming and going from what seemed like an endless sea. The water had turned dark since yesterday, which a seasoned sailor would know as a sign that they had entered the Depth Sea, a frigid and deep ocean coursing between Pohjola, one of the five great continents.

On the ship, a young boy had been on board the whole trip, never getting bored as long as the ship kept moving towards his destination. The boy looked at the horizon from the shade of the vessel, ever so excited he was, never letting his eyes go off sight. The ship was painted over nautical colors of white and blue, and then the name was written in cursive on the side with golden paint: Nautilus. The Nautilus was a commercial ship, meaning they were not alone, shipping both people and goods worldwide, with around a hundred people on board and some postal baggage. The ship's destination was set for the port of Alanland. It was not too far from where they left, their home in the Gulf of Tanlen, only a few days of travel. Alanland was the final stop where everyone would get off. It was still a day away, and the boy was eager, almost hasty, to start his journey.

"What's with that kid leaning off the railings all the time?" A young man scoffed.

"Maybe he needs a lesson." The other said.

"Don't bother. He's captain Deras' nephew, you know." Another passenger walked in.

"Another Eislandr. Where's he going to go?"

"What do you think?"

"Maybe an unexplored continent?" The other mocked with a cracking laugh.

"I mean, aren't there a bunch of things still left unexplored?" The young one looked at the horizon.

"Who cares. Besides, have you heard what they keep yapping about? Who believes that? I'll say it's all a big bluff."

A pair of heavy footsteps stopped and covered them in its shadow.

"What are you yapping about?" The man asked in a deep rough voice.

"Who's that?" The three turned.

A large rough-looking sailor with his skin covered in tattoos from the brawny hands to the jagged jaw looked down at the two passengers, as the third had already fled.

"If you're not going to stop flapping your useless lips, I'll throw you off right now so you can get yourself a story to tell."

Captain Deras looked down at the passengers, or rather his eyes were looking, but his mind was seemingly elsewhere. The aged captain had seen better days, but his skill had not gone, unlike his figure. Trafalgar returned to the bridge, and as he looked at the worn-out captain's hat covering Deras’ bald head, he knew it still belonged to the same man he first met all those years ago.

"Reporting in, captain. Nothing suspicious going on the deck."

"Trafalgar, I saw that scene. What on earth was that?"

"Nothing."

Trafalgar joined Deras on the helm, standing firmly beside him.

"What am I going to do with you? You can't scare the customers like that."

"Those little shits had it coming."

"Leave the ship, for crying out loud. I'm not going sailing any new seas no more."

"Shut yourself. I'll be on your last cruise." Trafalgar had a slight grin on his face.

"I should have left you to drown on those rocks. Less trouble for me."

"Like you'd do that. How many times exactly have I saved you from pirates again?" Trafalgar asked.

"Much less than you cost me."

"Yet you still haven't fired me."

"Every day with you." Deras sighed.

As the ship reached the port, the boy jumped off before the passengers could embark, even as the boat was still moving. His jacket fluttered in the air, much like his blonde hair. He dropped to the ground, barely keeping his balance. The move was seen to the bewilderment of many standing around on the docks, while it only frustrated his poor old uncle.

"Orel, at least wait until the ship is docked!" Deras ran to the railing.

Deras watched his nephew look around in amazement with a slight reminiscence of his own younger years. He pondered when he had last seen such eyes and finally realized they were the same as his father's, who used to look at him like the most sacred treasure. Deras could not say what exactly was so magical about them. Was it the gleaming hope in his eyes like a star in the night sky or the fire of passion like an everlasting bonfire? Deras was almost jealous, for his spark had long since ran out.

After docking the ship, Deras tried to find Orel. He found him looking at the busy streets full of people and cars. Going through the crowds made Deras almost lose his temper, but it is something to expect from the capital. Finally, he reached Orel. The poor uncle was already almost out of both breath and patience.

"Orel! I told you to wait!"

"I didn't even get hurt."

"That's not the point." Deras shook his head. "I guess you aren't going to wait any longer?"

"Nope. I'll just head north." Orel shrugged.

"Are you truly ready for this?"

"Uh-huh." Orel nodded proudly.

"I guess this is a farewell until we see again. I don't know when that will be, so take care. This goal of yours ain't no laughing matter. I'm sure Emil would be proud of you. I sure am. If you ever need a place to rest, you always got a home to come back to. Stay safe out there. Now go, I got mail to deliver."

Orel was left speechless as he had never seen his uncle this serious before. Deras walked towards the shipping center as he still needed to return to his business. Before he could get too far, Orel decided to comply.

"I will find the seven realms of the world!" He shouted without any thought about the people near him.

"Yeah, I bet you will, kid," Deras kept walking.

Deras knew that his nephew was ready for his travel. He could not shake the similar feeling that he saw coming from Orel. It made him relive his distant youth, even if just for a moment. There was a lingering fear of doubt in his mind. Deras had difficulty judging if that young innocence and pride could hold against what was to come. Adventures are eager to break even the strongest spirits, and many lose both hope and themselves during them. Being an adventurer might be one of the most dangerous occupations there is, and it's far from the fairy tales of glimmering treasure and action promised. Deras smiled at all the memories of the people he met and befriended, for he would have never made it without them, especially without his brother. However, Orel was alone. Deras could only hope that his nephew found like-minded people to aid in his journey and help him grow stronger. As they say, a long road is shorter with some company.

Orel found himself on the first step of his journey, Alanland, one of the most northern countries in the world. Its capital is one of the few that still operate so far north, making it a well-suited midstep for artic seafarers and one of the only places where you could continue straight to the uninhabited lands of the north. Between those uses, it has not much, meaning it still retains a smaller appeal than other famous harbors in the world. Odd tourism aside, the farther inhabited tundra contains vital oil reserves that Alanland's industry sells and exports, though the rough terrain, harsh weather, and long distances considerably limit the supply.

Orel checked his phone for connection. A phone is an essential tool in the modern age, but not all can afford one. Orel's model wasn't any of the most expensive or new, but it was enough and, most of all, sturdy.

"Yep, RNA connection works even abroad." Orel spun around with the phone high above his head. "So this is Alanland, huh. It's cold alright, just as uncle said. Glad I packed winter clothes."

Orel walked around aimlessly, and soon found out that he would only get lost if he didn't concentrate on his goal.

"Maybe I should go find the train station."

Street vendors were eager to sell warm beverages with the smell of apples and cinnamon to tourists wandering around a vast marketplace filled with stalls selling fresh fish and other seafood, a multitude of souvenirs, and, weirdly enough, ice cream. Even though the sky was dark, streetlamps and the city's lights gave all of it a vibrant feel like Christmas eve. Orel was almost sure there was some festival going on but didn't see anyone else celebrating, and came to the conclusion that it was the norm.

The ocean breeze was cold there, with gray clouds that stretched along the sky, blocking the sun for most if not all of it. It is said that between winter and fall, there would be at least one day of summer or two in a good year. It was the joke that many foreigners would hear from locals after not preparing for the weather they would face there. The sadder reality is that those who come unprepared can be found frozen to death after particularly harsh storms.

A slanty figure approached Orel from behind in cold silence. Orel felt a sudden shock as someone grabbed him by his shoulder like a branch tapping a window. He saw a frozen person, a lean snowman, standing before him, who, for how intimidating he seemed, shivered relentlessly. The man's bony face was barely visible behind the bandana and a fur hat, with the exposed part of his mustache frozen solid. The heavily clothed man spoke while looking like the ghost of Christmas yet to come.

"Don't go mentioning those realms out loud, kid. This place may be fine, but not all places take kindly to people snooping around."

"Thanks for the advice, mister, but I already know that," Orel took the man's arm off of his shoulder.

Orel started walking away from the man, thinking that there would be trouble if he were dangerous. He did not dare to look back and hoped the man would take the hint.

"That aside, I presume you're looking for Väinölä?" The man had begun following Orel.

The man walked beside Orel who was thinking of ways to escape. He waited for what the man had to say before trying to yell the police.

"What makes a kid like you begin searching for something like that? Shouldn't kids of your age be able to tell fairy tales from reality?" The man asked.

"Aren't they as real as any religion or god? Is there anything wrong to believe so?"

"Fair point. Say, if these realms are real, shouldn't magic be real as well?" The man chuckled.

"I guess," Orel shrugged. "Haven't met a wizard before, though."

The man was intrigued. "What would you do if you were to see one?"

Orel thought for a moment.

"Hmmm, I would probably ask if he could teach me. Magic would be useful to know. On the other hand, I don't want to waste my time if they try to sell it as some religion or something."

The man stopped for a second to fall behind, like a sled getting wedged by gravel, and stopped in place.

While fine that the man wasn't bothering him anymore, Orel turned to look if something had happened to him. The man looked at Orel like he had seen a unicorn or any other fantastic creature. It was pretty similar to what Deras would look like when Orel's mother asked if he had remembered the task he was given.

"You think there are different ways to learn magic?" The man gasped.

Orel was a bit puzzled by the man's question.

"Isn't that how it goes? We have a bunch of different cultures and they all have myths about magic."

The man was left frozen, looking at Orel. He thought to himself, which some could say comprises half of who he talks to.

"This boy, he's got it down. Is he seriously after the realms? Why is he so confident? Is he just some ignorant know-nothing?"

"What's wrong? Is everything all right, mister?" Orel broke the man from his standstill.

The man looked at Orel and coughed as he fixed his frozen attire in front of the townspeople, not to stand out more than he already was. The man lowered his bandana, revealing a goatee frozen from the moisture, though it looked more like uneven grass. The brown on his skin was more akin to a tan, though he lacked any stripes of one. The foreigner was like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for breath before freezing solid.

When the man bowed like a proper butler, Orel felt the one taken back. He still couldn’t understand what the man was after, but the change in tone was truly astounding. Even if he had ill intentions, Orel was more than sure to see through them.

"I am Tobias Norman. I apologize about my words earlier there."

"Ummm. I'm Orel."

"Orel, to be honest, I am quite interested in your goal as a theological physicist." Norman rubbed some snow off his jacket.

"You mean theoretical physicist?"

"No, theological. I study the intricate connection between- Nevermind that. So, you are looking for those realms?"

"Um, yes?"

"So you've been planning this for some time, haven't you?"

"As long as I can remember."

Norman gave a small laugh about it but needed to hold his laughter, which seemed blatantly obvious to an obnoxious degree. It was not the first time Orel was laughed at, but it still annoyed the hell out of him.

"Talking about that sort of thing so nonchalantly." Norman cleared his throat. "I see. Then, your first goal seems to be finding Väinölä, I presume?"

"Maybe. What is it to you?"

"Well, it would help me in a way if I were to find it."

"Looks like it hasn't gone that well for you."

"Well, smartass, what is your means to get there?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Why, you little!" Norman breathed deeply. "Maybe we should negotiate this more…Appropriately. How about a meal? It's on me."

"Negotiate? About what?"

"If you didn't catch my drift, we happen to have the same goal. The question lies whether you want to keep going at it alone or not."

"Alone, thank you."

"I suppose you aren't interested in a free meal then? You don't need to listen."

Orel was not that enthusiastic but was up for the food. He hadn't eaten since the morning, and he should still be able to run if things took a darker turn.

"Fine, but turn to an alley, and I'll be gone."

"If I was a robber, my accomplice would have robbed you as we speak."

Norman rubbed his eyes.

"I didn't mean that you should check your pockets…."

They walked around the stoned walkways towards the town center. Many people of different backgrounds walked through the streets, from aristocrats talking about business, to the poor, waving around a coin mug. The buildings next to the walkways were built side by side, with old brick buildings next to new concrete malls. The noise was a little too much for Orel's liking with motorized vehicles and crowds of people. The snow gathering everywhere was brushed away with snowplows. Workers also poured gravel on the walkways to make them less slippery, though the little stones always found their way inside people's shoes. Orel saw many different shops, from clothes to convenience, with Norman leading him, though they didn't seem to get anywhere.

After a while, Orel had to ask him.

"Where are we going?"

"I was hoping we would find one already."

"I thought you knew this place."

"How would I? I've only been here for a couple of days."

"Oh, there's one right there!" Norman pointed out a small restaurant around the road.

"That's a fast-food joint."

"It's just perfect for my financial situation."

Orel followed, wondering if he had just picked up a hobo, though at least he smelled only half as bad. They ordered some food, with Orel ordering a full hamburger meal and Norman ordering the children's meal. They sat down at a table near the window, removed their outermost clothes and hats, and put their luggage on the side. The waiter was rightfully confused about their orders. Norman corrected the waiter for mixing them up with a small smile and no tip. Norman seemingly enjoyed the warmth indoors by stretching around and leaning onto the radiators.

"Don't you have money to buy an adult's meal?" Orel asked.

"I do, but I like the toys."

Norman took out the blue toy figure from its packaging.

"Do you know what this toy is supposed to be?" Norman held the figure close to Orel.

It was a mono-color piece of plastic, seemingly cheaply manufactured. The toy was not very highly detailed, but you could make up some key details about it.

After looking at it for a while, Orel answered.

"Looks like a giant."

"Yes, it is a commercial toy for the culture week they are having. This giant is supposed to represent the original giant, Kaleva." Norman shoved fries in his mouth.

"I didn't know that."

"Alanland has a deep-rooted cultural heritage that they aren't afraid to show. Väinölä is one of the oldest and dearest to their heart." Norman devoured his hamburger.

"You know a lot of Alanland's culture for a foreigner."

"That's part of my work. I need to look into many different cultures and their beliefs." Norman sipped his drink.

"As a…Theological physicist?"

"Don't mock it! That's a master's degree, you know. It took me seven years."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I...the people of the university did not appreciate my work in my home country, so they promptly told me to leave and conduct my research with my own funding,"

"Oh, sorry."

"It's nothing. I was working on my theory, but the professors threw me out before I got to prove it. Said it was a waste of research grants."

"Why did you come to Alanland?"

"I heard that this place was more open to new ideas, and I find that people in Pohjola have stronger beliefs connected with pagan beliefs. That might just help with what I'm looking for."

"Is finding Väinölä a part of that?"

"Well, I'm not expecting to find it that easily, but if such a thing happened, researching it would be a gold mine. Not that Atlas would ever believe my claims."

"So you do believe in it?"

"Either it is, or my life's work is a lie."

"When you put it like that…."

"So, do you have any leads? Where are you going next?"

"North," Orel stared blankly.

"North?"

"Väinölä is said to be in the northern parts, an island somewhere."

"Well, yes, but don't you have anything more specific? A place or something?" Norman thought Orel was hiding something.

"There's not much else told in the stories."

"Yes, yes, but are you going off based on that?"

"It wouldn't be a hidden realm if I knew where it is."

"Sigh, and I was starting to believe you had something going on, like a map or something."

"Do you have anything more than the stories?" Orel asked in turn.

"Well..." Norman felt cornered."No."

"Then, how were you going to find it?"

"Sigh, by going north."

"Then what did you expect when asking me?"

"At least I know things."

"You didn't seem to know how to prepare for the weather."

"Fine, you might have the preparation and body, but you wouldn't get anywhere without me."

"Then tell me something I don't know."

"Doubt is unbecoming of you."

"Then please prove me wrong."

"Fine then. You know about the island and the bridge?"

"Yes, you go there on the rainbow road."

"Wow, you did know something, but do you know how to get to the bridge?"

"And you are supposed to know that?"

"yes, in fact, I have a theory."

"That's not knowing something."

"A theory needs knowing something."

"Then what is it?"

"The rainbow bridge is a reoccurring theme in Pohjola-based mythology, meaning some of the aspects may be true with this one as well."

"I haven't looked at other myths."

"That's your first mistake."

"Then what did you find?"

"If it truly ties together, the real problem is not finding the bridge, but the bridge guide."

"Then where's the guide?"

"I wouldn't be here if I knew." Norman shrugged.

"That just puts us from finding X to finding Y."

"If you didn't know that, you'd waste your time trying to find the bridge."

"Haven't you wasted all your time here?"

"I have gathered information, just to let you know."

"Then why haven't you gone searching it yourself?"

"I was looking into hiring some people, but you wouldn't believe how expensive they can be."

"So you are looking for me to be your free lackey?"

"I think we both would benefit from grouping up. You'll do all the labor, and I will lead us there."

"I don't really approve of the work part, but you do seem handy."

"See what I mean? I'll also pay my cut of the expenses, of course."

"And I'll see that you do."

"It's a deal then." Norman stretched out his hand.

"I guess." Orel shook it.

"Should we take the train? "Norman asked.

"That was my plan. I heard the tickets are quite cheap here."

"Does your family travel as well?"

"Yes. My grandfather claimed he traveled through all the continents, and dad and uncle set out to sail all of the seas."

"Oh, that's odd. I never heard the news about it."

"They aren't up to brag about it. They do it for themselves."

"Surely someone should have heard of such endeavor."

"I wouldn't be so sure. We don't even know where grandpa is from. He said he's from Zabad, but that's all we know. He didn't like telling about his past."

"I see. May I give some advice?" Norman proposed.

"Well?"

"It could be a good idea that you didn't shout about your goals either. For every hidden thing, people are willing or paid to keep it a secret."

"Why? Is it because They're magical?"

"Well, if they were, that would be an even better reason for it."

"So, do wizards keep it secret? Are you a wizard?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Maybe you had interesting spells for me to learn,"

"So you wouldn't care if I had some useless spells?" Norman gave a nervous laugh.

"You wouldn't be the only wizard in the world, so I could just find another one."

"I don't like how you are ready to throw me out like a bad book."

"That's only if you can't teach me."

"You think I'm a mage?"

"That or a con artist with a very bad poker face."

"You are really painting me as a bad guy,"

"You paint yourself that way."

"Nevermind. Let's just keep going,"

"Agreed," Orel walked towards the central station.

It was a large marble building in the northern part of the city, with vast crowds of people walking in and out. The interior was roomy and echoing, seeming more like a large hall than a station. Orel was not a fan of the echoing noises, and Norman took great pleasure in knowing that. They approached the clerk to order tickets. He wore a green and yellow striped vest and a white shirt, the company outfit.

"Afternoon." Norman greeted briefly.

"May I help you?" The clerk asked cheerfully.

"One adult ticket and...How old are you, Orel?"

"Sixteen,"

"I see, so one adult and one child." The clerk typed.

"Yes, to…" Norman looked at the train routes." Savmid."

"That would be 36 Eer."

"Here you go." Norman gave the money and took the tickets.

They went to wait for the train to arrive. Many sat there with them, some going home and many tourists traveling to all parts of the country. One could tell which was which by the size of their luggage.

"They speak Commal well here," Orel was surprised.

"Alanland is very highly educated for the most part. Language is a big part of it as many go to work in neighboring countries."

After waiting for half an hour, they could board the train. It was electrically powered, making it a surprisingly quiet and easy ride, though a bit crowded. The two squeezed to their places on the narrow pathway between the seatings. They had four seats, two opposite each other, separated by a table. Fortunately, it did not cost any more than any other seat but had more room for Norman's legs.

Orel took the window seat and constantly shifted his eyes back and forth from the compass to the northern landscape opened in the small window as Norman slept loudly on the opposite side bench. They had finally departed and were heading towards Savmid, middle-Alanland. They decided to embark from there, thinking they could determine their transport better and see where they were supposed to go. Now they were waiting, as it was still a couple of hours away. Orel looked at the landscape as it grew snowier and snowier, with the land getting covered over and becoming bumpy like a bedsheet, lakes freezing, and the woods becoming thicker. He was sure that they were getting closer to their goal.