In the southern mouth of the Sea of Gulfs stood the last remains of Hehkia. The island watched guard over the Strait like the last custodian protecting a dead kingdom. Rising high above the Sea upon the flat stone pillar stood the Fortress of Megarkos with its tall walls and soaring tower. The plateau had a grand staircase cut into it leading down into what had become the city of Megarkos.

Ma-ek stood at the northern window overlooking Megarkos in all its mismatched grandeur. As a child he stood in this same spot, looking out at the mass of tents and lean-to's set in and around the old buildings left behind from before the cataclysm. The different peoples who came to Megarkos brought more than just their lives to its shores. They brought their culture and ways with them, and over the years the city had grown to show it.

Megarkos had built up around the old ruined buildings left behind when the fort was abandoned. The best standing of those that remained were converted into useful civic buildings when possible. The fort itself was less of a military outpost and more of a forward exploration base which had now been converted into something of a makeshift capital for what remained of Hehkia and its neighbors.

Different building styles stood across from each other with little concern for what stood around it. The only thing that did match was the materials used for each build as the stone was sourced locally, along with wood from a logging camp set up on the western coast of the strait. Over the twenty years since Ma-ek and his father first set foot on this island, it had grown exponentially to rival some of the great cities of the mainland of Jumba with a population of many thousands within its walls.

Ma-ek turned and walked to the table at the center of the room. As he surveyed the room, he noticed the walls were hewn from a sand-colored stone, while the floor was weathered and worn from many years of use, and still bore the deep color of Crimsonwood. The room was lit by the open windows that let the midday sun brighten every corner, exposing tables covered with maps and charts of the coasts and waterways of the Sea of Gulfs. A large map hung on the wall picturing Megarkos from the air, it fluttered in the slight sea breeze.

The fort had been founded by a visionary eccentric of Hehkia, and with it came many luxuries from home that had aged over the centuries. Father had learned of the unused fort in the travels of his youth. The grand table at the center of the room had a topographical map layout of the region that filled every inch of it. The room was lit by the placement of the windows in the room that simulated the passing of the day. Carved into the table depicted the Sea of Gulfs and the explored coastline on the Western shores in comprehensive detail.

Father stood across from Ma-ek at the table, the look on his face one of exhaustion and worry. “Sink us! I’m not sure this last raid will last us more than a month,” he paused, tapping his pointer finger on his bottom lip — something he had done for as long as Ma-ek could remember. “If we stretch it, I think maybe it can last a week past that but no more. I need to ask that troll Besteb why he sent me to a mining encampment for food and medicine. I’m wondering if his memory is starting to go.”

On Ma-ek's left was Equian the acting H'ster (Heh-Ster) of Megarkos. The majority of the population came from the mainland after predators and the jungles reclaimed their land. While once a Hehkian outpost started by Hehkian survivors, Megarkos now stood as a great mixing of ideas and cultures.

The man had an air of nobility to him. He stood with his shoulders straight and his chin square, as if the weight of responsibility was nothing. He was a muscular man with a broad chest and beaming smile, which hid how enormous of a man he truly was. His beard was curly but well-kept, close to his face and dark as charcoal, but his most striking feature washis eyes. They were a bright almond color that seemed to glow when the light hit them.

On Ma-ek's right was Besteb, clad in his usual maroon robes belted at the waist with old leather and a bronze buckle. He was the shortest at the table by a head and as frail as any other old man in Megarkos. What he lacked in youthful vigor and physicality, he more than made up for in life experience, easily being the oldest in the room by a lifetime. His brow ridge hooded his eyes from the sun as he peered over the map, his eyes pausing along some line or path only he could see.

Besteb shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a gentle rocking motion, while his prominent brows furrowed and ruffled. Thoughts swirled through his mind, His eyes hidden by the shadows of the room. The three waited at the table for their Elder but only his breathing and the creaking of his bones could be heard. Finally, the silence was broken as Besteb looked up from his contemplation directly at Ma-ek and then at each individual on the other sides of the table. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

“ I told you all it, I told ya' when ya' saved me less than a year ago it be like this.” He paced on his side of the table, slowly and creakily, back and forth. “ I came from a Neander community that was thriving, even as yours vanished in a flash. You asked for my advice and I gave it freely, but I said then it be fool's errand. Raiding was only a short fix! It's been more than a year since you saved my life and nothing changed, except now all starve.”

Equian interrupted, “We know, Besteb! We see the same situation as you. We have started to run low on food, and this year’s small harvest has made it so that we don’t have reserves. Rationing has helped, but the citizens are starting to get restless, and now there is talk of a pestilence among some of the newer settlers.

"We are on the knife’s edge and I see no way of stepping off without getting cut. Besteb, I think we are all ready to listen to your plan again. The commander may not have listened in the past, but I am not the Commander — and I suspect that was elected for that very reason.”

Ma-ek watched his father flush and narrow his eyes at Equian, fists clenching slightly in only the way a son could notice, and then he spoke. “Equian, do you know you are a terrible winner?”

Equian laughed, rubbing the back of his neck while he did. “I may be a bad winner, but at least I am not a murderous loser.”

Corys laughed in return, the tense air having been broken by an old joke.

Luckily they were able to keep their friendship after facing each other in the last election for H'ster, Ma-ek thought.

Corys spoke, addressing Equian directly, but it was meant for everyone at the table. “When my son and I arrived on this island, it was followed by almost 400 people who had just watched their entire world get destroyed. A city of thousands brought so low to almost not exist in an instant. Survivors were found in and among the debris for days after the cataclysm.

“The only reason we headed to this island was the Fortress. It was an old and half-forgotten thing on the very edge of our empire, left to blow away in the sea breeze. At that time we never intended to stay, never intended to build a home, and least of all did we intend to grow roots. Napat, however, saw things differently. In less than a week, the survivors came. Sometimes small in number and sometimes multiple ships full of people seeking safety and a new life among the remnants of Hehkia. Equian, you won the people because you care about them, the same as I.”

He turned to face Besteb. “And you, while you are not my kind, I trust you all the same. Everything you have said that was going to happen has, and you have done an admirable job advising. I thought your plan foolish, but as I am no longer the H'ster, so it is not for me to decide.” Finally, he turned to face Ma', looking up and down stopping to match my gaze and nodded.

Besteb spoke up, feeling that the break in the conversation was meant for him. “This rock barely grows food; your homeland be too ruined for trade soon. I see only a handful of options. I told you when you first found me that the only real prize be Olr'du and all its food.”

Besteb stopped in mid-thought and began to pace again. The small, frail man muttered to himself as he did. Upon stopping, he quickly turned and said, “Your kind has learned a lot from me, no? You learned not only from what I told you, but from watching me. Your kind be dangerous in more ways than you know, and this be one of 'em. You ride on yer fancy ‘ships’ with blankets that pull and push them across the water!?

"If ye had told me as a boy that I would live to see flesh and blood men ride on water and controlling it, I would have spit in yer eye and called you slow. My peoples, we are strong and we are smart, but we are stubborn and fear what we are told to. If proven wrong, we aren’t all stupid and will see the world for what it is.”

Besteb looked around at the blank faces expectantly. “ Well, whaddya think?” he said, long arms spread in a gracious manner. “Bestebs' plans, best plans!”

The three humans looked at each other in a mix of confusion and amusement. Equian spoke first before a less kind voice rose. “Besteb, Friend... I think you need be clearer for my friend Corys here. He has trouble understanding your rambling ideas sometimes. You know how old age is, and I am sure you could teach him a thing or two about aging gracefully.” If looks could kill, Equian would lay in a pile of cinders on the floor for the wind to blow away.

“What I mean is: between me and the young'in you just picked up, neither of us had any idea what to make of your water-beasts. The smallest of your examples scared us and drove us both to hide. If those tiny things scared us poor 'thal, imagine what massive beasts will do. The ones so large dozens of men ride inside to use its fins, gleaming metal blades on the front like horns cut through the waves and anything that may try its luck. You ride beasts of the waves like you be born to it.” Besteb was wildly waving his arms at this point, gesturing to the armor the two soldiers were wearing and towards the general’s direction of the city and docks.

“You ride them right up to Olr'du in all their fearsome awe, with your armor shining in the sun and you will look like the Water God himself has come to punish the wicked little 'thal.”