Norman mumbled by himself at a busy restaurant, looking at his mobile phone. He had waited for more than an hour, yet there was nothing else he could do than order another warm cup of glogg. It was nearing afternoon, which meant quite a few customers inside. The restaurant itself was nothing too fancy, as it was only part of a chain of similar restaurants. It was quite a different city, where foreign people traded with coins printed with the faces of royalty on old restored streets of a bygone era. The food was still delicious, though Norman couldn’t eat another thing because of his worries and because he had already eaten three burgers.

“What the hell is up with him? Did he seriously get lost?” Norman looked at all the unanswered calls.

Suddenly, he felt a slight tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, are you Norman?” An unfamiliar voice asked in commal.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Norman turned.

Norman was perplexed as soon as he saw the man. He was almost double as wide and twice as tall as he looked over with an honest and glad face.

Without introducing himself or explaining his business, the man turned around and waved his hand up in the air.

“I found him!” The man yelled.

Now two mysterious figures wanted Norman. He had no idea who would be looking for him except his family, but they weren’t this conspicuous. Norman looked at the other puzzled customers and was slightly embarrassed by the situation.

Then someone ran toward him. A short figure pushed off customers and made his way. Norman was ready to find an exit, but this time he waited. Norman had a great memory and could easily recognize someone from their clothes if it was not obvious.

“Orel! There you are!”

“Norman!” Orel waved from the crowd.

As the boy sat next to him on a barstool and the spirit of reunion waned, Norman had to ask.

“How did you find me?”

"I looked for the cheapest restaurants in town. Then it was only a matter of looking for someone sitting away from most of the tables.”

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

As the familiarity settled in, Norman remembered how he was feeling just a minute ago.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

“The battery died.” Orel shrugged.

“Didn’t I tell you to recharge it?”

“You have the charger!”

“Oh, right, because mine broke, and I wanted to borrow it."

Norman turned to Andras. "Never mind that. Who is this?”

“He’s Andras. I found him in ice.”

“And I’m the Yule goat.” Norman rolled his eyes.

“Pleasure to make acquaintances. What type of clergy do you belong to?” Andras asked.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He talks weird.”

“Forsooth, my friend’s words hold.”

“Okay, you picked up a mental character along the way.” Norman rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t know what to do with him, so I let him follow.”

“Well, he’s clearly not from here, and that speak, I swear I’ve heard it somewhere...”

“See?” Orel pressed his point.

“What am I supposed to make of this?” Norman sighed. “While I’m gone, you go out and defrost an iceman?”

“What should we do with him?”

“Don’t talk like he’s some sort of stray cat, and you get to keep him if he doesn’t find an owner.”

“I’d like to assay all that myself,” Andras said.

“He could go with us. We can’t leave him here.” Orel glanced at how Andras was wondering about a coffee machine.

“How about leaving a missing person report?”

“For him?” Orel pointed at Andras, drinking straight from the machine.

“Sigh, you’re right. We’re probably too far and too late for anyone to be looking for him.”

“So, can he come?”

“Can I?” Andas cleaned his face of the coffee.

Norman gave up. These two were too much for him to handle.

“It’s your home, do what you want."

Norman suddenly grinned eerily.

"Also, you lost the bet. I’ll settle if you pay for what I ordered while waiting.”

“Sure.” Orel took a look at the receipt. “How much did you order?” He read the multiple purchases.

“Not much, but I knew I wouldn’t be the one paying.”

Once Orel had emptied his wallet, the three set to the busy streets. The daily commune was crowded, from the cars on the roads to the people in the streets. Among them was someone slightly different, though a normal person would not cause a scene about them.

"Wow, a catman!" Andras pointed.

"Stop pointing," Norman grunted. "Sorry!" He yelled in their language.

"Who are those people?" Orel asked.

"Oh, you have never seen a Zou?"

"I've been to a zoo."

"No, the Zou people. They are the natives of Zabad."

"Oh, right." Orel came into realization. "I thought my geography teacher was just exaggerating about furry people."

"You don't see them much elsewhere, or rather there are few of them out there. They usually avoid colder and wetter climates."

"Okay, but could we get going?" Andras was getting bored.

“Where should we go?” Orel asked.

“To the harbor, obviously.”

“I can’t call my uncle until my phone is finished charging.”

“How long is that going to take?”

“Around an hour. I don't think this will even turn on before that.”

“Okay, so we need to kill an hour. How about going back into the restaurant?”

“How about shopping?”

“Your wallet." Norman sighed.

“Oh, right.”

“There should always be circumjacent places to visit.” Andras proposed.

“You mean sightseeing?” Norman asked.

“That’s it!”

“Fine. maybe some fresh air would be fine.”

“Okay, sightseeing it is.” Orel started walking.

The three walked around, turning corners, crossing bridges, and going both downhill and uphill on the cobbled streets. Soon one question arose.

“Norman, do you know any places?”

“Well, we should find some if we walk long enough.”

“Are you up for that?”

“I can manage this for a bit." Norman lied.

It took them some time, but soon the three found themselves in a different part of town. The houses also began looking older than older, and the cobblestone became rough and sparse. None of them had any idea where they had gone, but the lack of traffic made walking there much more pleasant, even though it was not good for their feet.

The three found themselves at the center of a plaza, where a statue of someone important posed dramatically. There were barely any people besides the three, only some elders roaming about.

“Who do you think it is?” Orel looked at the statue.

“It should read on the plate,” Norman said.

They walked forward and saw the whole statue. It was solid, darkened metal portraying a half-nude woman rising from the waves. It looked over to the river, seemingly longing to dive into the water.

“Let’s see.” Norman leaned over. “Nåkk vattengud.”

“Maybe a king? she has a crown, after all.” Andras pondered.

“It seems to be a goddess of some sort. Water if I had to take a guess.” Norman said. “Orel, how is the phone charging?”

“Let me check.” Orel took out the handheld charger. “It’s done.”

“Okay, we should head back.”

“Could we just wait for a moment?” Andras asked.

“What do you mean?” Norman was getting tired.

“The weather is fine, and the grass seems green.”

“Well, I could do with some laying down for a bit.” Norman saw the opportunity to rest.

“I will call uncle in the meantime.”

Next to the sidewalk was a patch of grass. It was right beside a slivering river, which seemed the perfect place for a break. Andras sat down on the wet grass, taking deep breaths of the ocean wind. Norman sat down as well but then laid down on his back, using his luggage as a headrest. Under the shade of a few maple trees, the two relaxed for a bit, each their own way.

“Such beauty.”

“It’s fine, alright.” Norman kept his eyes closed.

A moment of silence passed. Andras watched as ducks swam in the stream while Norman looked at the sky and the many clouds passing by.

“Would you like a statue after you die?” Andras asked.

“...no, I don’t think I’ll ever get one. Would you?”

“maybe. It is fun to be remembered for something.”

“I guess so. What would it mean to you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything.”

“Same thing here."

Norman didn’t mind the silence; instead, he preferred it. The place was suited for a nap, and he was in desperate need of one. Of course, it was not as simple as he had hoped. Besides the ants crawling up his leg, Andras kept speaking out loud.

“I heard you had some embarrass in your journey.”

“I don’t know what that means, but yeah.”

“So, what is your plan?”

“It's a bit complicated, but I will train that boy.”

“How did you decide that?”

“Why did you save him?”

“I saw that shouldn’t be the end of his journey.”

“Me too.”

Even if only a bit, Norman could understand the man. Perhaps they did not find the boy, but he found them.

“What are you trekking for?”

“I want to prove something.”

“Ah, you one of those scientists.”

“Sort of.” Norman shrugged.

“So you need to find those places, the realms.”

“Yeah.”

“Is there are reason or-”

“How about we enjoy the silence for a bit?” Norman grunted.

“Alright.”

Norman closed his eyes for a moment and moment as he heard loud steps.

“Done. We can head back now.” Orel stepped on the grass.

“Right, I almost forgot.” Norman stood up. “Where is the harbor?”

“I thought you knew.”

“I knew there was one, but I’ve never been here.”

After seeing Orel’s disappointed look, Norman had to correct himself.

“But hey, it should be a no-brainer.”

“I guess.”

"Then, let's get going." Andras stretched.

The three departed on a grand quest that quickly devolved into a tormenting and puzzling walk of circles around the city. While Norman was adamant about leading, he was fairly bad at locating their target. Even with a map that they found on a billboard, they made little progress. For whatever reason, be it some type of spite fueled by his ego or if he was lacking in his sense of direction, Norman would immediately choose the wrong option if one was presented to him. Norman and Orel felt worn out, even though they had taken a break only a moment ago. Andras was doing fine, at least physically, but something else was bothering him.

“All these lights and noises, my head cannot handle them," Andras wailed.

“I still have a headache thinking of that map,”

“Can’t you check it on your GPS?” Orel asked.

“I can’t read Sweish,”

“Can’t you search what it’s called and then check the GPS?”

“You youngsters with your tech-savviness,” Norman murmured.

“Is he alright?” Andras asked.

“He was just proved not to understand something by someone younger than him.”

“Ah, the feeling of getting old. I can concur with that.”

Though helpful, the three still had to result in asking the locals for directions, which proved far more straightforward than anything they had tried before. Thanks to the tips, they quickly got through the city. Finally, the harbor was within eyesight. The ships embarked and set sail from the pier while smaller vessels dodged like tiny ants. The sea breeze was cold yet tepid compared to Alanland. Food stalls splattered over the cobblestone compiled from souvenirs to local delicacies. Norman pulled Orel and Andras to the ports before wasting any money there. He felt like a babysitter or a grumpy old brother, which only made dragging an older and larger man more embarrassing.

“How is our ride?” Norman asked.

“Uncle said he’s coming, but it will still take around an hour."

“Then we just need to wait here.” Norman sat on a bench to look at the sea. “And no, you can’t go wasting money here.”

“I’ll just grab one souvenir for the folks at home,” Orel said. “I don't have much to spend anyways.”

“You took the bet.” Norman had no sympathy.

“Can I go too?” Andras asked.

“Really?” Norman sighed.

“Also, could you fetch me a penny?”

“Just sit down.”

Norman, slowly but surely, could not take Andras, who watched desperately at the stalls like a child when driving past an amusement park. Norman tried to ignore this as long as he could yet gave in rather quickly.

“Here is 20 Eer, now go.”

He had none of the joy of Andras, who marched merrily to the stalls. Norman had to distract himself from all the fuss to look at the calm sea.

Orel looked through the stalls, yet all he could see were generic keychains, mugs, snowglobes, and postcards. It was beyond disappointing, as Orel wanted something unique. There seemed to be nothing that would be worth buying until he saw small carved wooden statues standing side by side.

“Anything I can help you with?”

The seller was an older woman with her husband. The husband was tending to other customers, but the woman seemed not to hurry. She shuffled from her chair as she saw Orel interested in their stall.

“Is this figure supposed to be Kaleva?” Orel pointed at a long, bearded statue.

“Kaleva? No, these are Jötunn, trolls.”

“Ah, I see. How much does one cost?”

“Fifteen Eer per piece. get two for twenty.”

“I’ll take one, please,”

“Thank you. My husband makes these. It’s his hobby.” The lade fetched the statue.

“They are lovely.” Orel smiled.

“Oh, how sweet you are. Here you go.”

“Goodbye!” Orel walked off.

“Safe travels!” The lady waved.

Orel spotted Andras eating in one of the stalls as he headed back. Orel went to see him as he was unsure if he was supposed to be there. Andras was laughing with some locals. The others were some old sailors, homeless people, and all alcoholics, but they seemed merry.

“Ah, Orel, I was having a dandy time with these folk!” Andras turned on his bench.

“Do you understand them?”

“Not one bit, but we collogue well.”

“Did Norman give you money?”

“He did.” Andras snacked on some dried fish. “I must say, these foods here are most delicious.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I think we need to get back,”

A vocal voice yelled at them from the back. “You two there! Would you care for a game?”

A red-dressed street vendor stretched over.

“Um, I don’t know if I should.” Orel leaned back.

“It’s only 5 Eer, and you get three tries.”

“Ooh, games! Like in a circus!” Andras jumped out of his chair.

“Fine, just once.”

The man guided the two to his stall. The stand featured prizes on a shelf and a basket of balls near the counter. At the midway were three pyramids of foggy glass bottles. It was relatively easy to understand what the game was about, but the vendor still explained it with his nasal voice.

“Make all of the bottles fall in the pyramid and choose your prize!”

“I want first!” Andras handed over the money.

“There, three balls.”

Andras threw the ball towards a pyramid, but only a few bottles from the top fell.

“Too bad! You can still try to make the rest fall!”

Andras tried again, but only a couple fell, and the rest column on the bottom was left standing.

“Just one more try to make the rest fall.”

Andras was furious and about to throw the ball with full force when a familiar voice called for them.

“There you are!” Norman walked over. “So this is where you went. You know these games are all rigged?”

“What do you mean?” Orel asked.

“Those bottles on the bottom can’t be toppled. They are locked in place with glue or something.”

"How do you know that?"

"My sister liked magic tricks and sleight of hand."

“Damnation!” Andras squeezed the ball.

“You can tell what you want, but he still has one try.” The vendor counted his money.

“Don’t bother, Andras.”

“Here goes!” Andras took a throwing stance.

His hand grew veins the size of a garden hose. The armed swung The ball forward like a bullet. It whistled and deformed in the air. It hit the glass before the vendor even realized it. The bottles exploded into small shards, leaving only their bottoms standing. Norman and Orel looked at Andras in disbelief while.

“I’ll take that prize now,” Andras leaned over.

“Take any you want, and don’t come back,” The vendor hid under the counter.

The three walked out of the market, being looked at like freaks. Norman was even more embarrassed than when he had to drag them in the first place.

“I certainly didn’t expect that,” Norman smiled worriedly.

“Me neither.” Orel looked at Andras holding a giant plushie.

"Is your uncle here yet?"

"Yes, I just got the message. He said to look for dock 2B."

They went to the piers, where the larger ships were docked. Inside were numerous ships, yet Orel could already see the side of Nautilus. It was fairly loud with the sound of machines, metal clanking against one another, and a lot of speaking on top. Yet, as the three walked over, they heard a rough voice echo throughout the hall.

“Orel!” Deras came down his ship.

“Deras!” Orel noticed.

After coming down, Deras looked at Orel’s companions with sensible suspicion. After all, he had not heard or seen these people before, who were now suddenly accompanying his nephew.

“I was about to ask why you were coming home already, but it seems like there is something else you need to tell me,"

“Oh, these are...”

“Good day, sir. My name is Tobias Norman. I am a theological physicist, and I’ve decided to assist Orel as we share a common interest that would certainly aid my research.” Norman did a formal bow.

“I couldn’t understand a word you said.” Deras looked at Norman blankly.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just interested in the realms too.” Orel assured.

The nervous thought of what he will make of Andras stayed in Orel's mind.

“Ah, I see. then who are you?” Deras lifted his gaze.

“He’s a guy I found getting shot out of an iceberg,” Orel explained.

Deras stopped for a second. Norman could see the sheer confusion in his eyes. Only his eyes moved, looking back and forth from Orel to Andras.

“They call me Andras. Nice to make knowings.” Andras stretched his hand.

Deras shook it without saying a word. Andras didn’t precisely understand Deras’ expression but took it all with a wide smile. After letting go, Deras' hand stayed in place until he had fully processed all of the information.

“Well...It’s nice to have you on board. The entrance is on the side...”

Orel stayed with Deras after Norman and Andras had left. The poor uncle was still confused for some time until he finally collected his thoughts.

“...Some interesting people you have picked up, Orel,”

“They are, aren’t they.”

“So...What exactly happened?” Deras asked.

“We ran into some trouble, but I think Norman can help us. He’s a wizard.”

“I seriously don’t doubt you after hearing about a guy getting shot out a glacier.”

“We just thought of practicing at home,” Orel dodged around the fact.

“There's nothing wrong with that. Get yourself on board. I need to do some documents for the docking.” Deras patted Orel on the shoulder.

“Is Trafalgar on board?”

“Nah, this is his day off. Besides, this is off-hour work.”

It did not take long until Nautilus was sailing again with Orel, Norman, and Andras onboard. Orel felt nostalgic to be back on the ship, even though the feeling of worthlessness was still keeping him down. This time the ship would be heading straight towards his home. Orel and Andras looked at the horizon from the deck while Norman sat in the trunk. They would finally arrive at the last pitstop after going through a whole country as a detour.

“Is it cold in there?” Norman asked.

“in Talen? It’s a bit chilly, but the summers get warm.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Do you really hate the cold that much?”

“I thought we already had this conversation. Yes, I hate every second of it. I’d rather get sunburnt.”

“I wouldn’t go wishing for that. I got one as a kid, and my back still feels itchy from time to time.”

“Your pale skin is not made to take in too much sunlight, unlike mine.”

“I was going to ask if that tone is from a salon.”

“All-natural, even without taking a single step outside during the hot reason.”

“Did you read books all summer?”

“No, I also watched documentaries. Do you want a recommendation?”

"No thanks, I like action movies."

"Shame."

It would not take long for the ship to sail on the open sea. Thankfully, Talen is a border neighbor with Swadia, meaning visiting one another wouldn’t take too much time regardless of your way of transportation. By dinnertime, the three would already arrive at Orel’s home. After over a week of being by himself, returning home had a pleasant feeling, only that the reason felt damning.