A week later, for the first time in what felt like Wilhelm’s entire life, land was in sight.

The sun was low in the east as they approached, giving a golden outline to their ship from the perspective of anyone on the dock. The island looked small, dominated by a large mountain in the center with forests fighting for supremacy from just after the beaches all the way up a quarter of the monolith itself.

They docked.

Abandoned buildings and scaffolding crawled along the rocky exterior like sea spiders utilizing spindly legs to dig through the earth, searching for treasures apparently not present in its pockmarked surface. Or no longer present.

A city’s corpse lay collapsed in a cleared stretch of forest, to which the dock was attached. An opportunistic fungus of a town had cropped up upon the surface, filled with hard lives and forgotten dreams. Most buildings had at least one window boarded, most streets were littered with trash, most homes empty and long abandoned. The dock was the only limb that seemed well and regularly maintained, the wooden slats clean and sturdy as he walked upon them. Wilhelm studied the few moored ships alongside Jieming and the ever curious (or was he just prone to gossip?) Quinn. Most of the ships looked to be in a bad way, or at least not as well maintained as the one he would hopefully soon be crew upon. One caught their eyes, however, with polished wood and indulgent filigree, gleaming in the sun. A name was inscribed along the hull in cursive hand, reading: “Visser’s Future.” Sailors in naval uniforms paced across the deck, adjusting sails, and generally maintaining the ship. Interestingly, there was an additional insignia both upon the sails and their uniforms beside the naval one: A gold-feathered peacock, it’s head turned upward as it swallows some creature Wilhelm couldn’t make out. A snake, perhaps?

Jieming’s face soured as he looked upon the ship, while Quinn only looked pensive. Before he could ask about it, they continued on, his legs confused from the lack of movement under his feet after so long at sea. He had to focus on walking properly, and Quinn gave him an amused look as they walked.

“It gets better the more often you get off the ship. Eventually it hardly happens at all.” He explained.

Wilhelm nodded and they pressed onwards, his head swiveling while he continued surveying their surroundings.

“Where is everyone?” He asked the two of them. He’d seen a couple of dockworkers, but there was practically nobody else.

They both shrugged.

“Work, maybe?” Jieming guessed.

“I haven’t been here in a long time.” Quinn said. “I could still tell you the best bars though if you’re interested.“ he looked around once more. “Well, I’m sure one of them is still open.”

“There will be plenty of time to drink, after he’s passed the exam.” Jieming said with finality.

Quinn grumbled something about fascism and oppressing the common man, and the corner of Jieming’s mouth tugged up.

The streets were just as deserted as they’d seemed from afar, and the buildings in just as poor a state. Windows were cracked, broken, or boarded – sometimes all three at once – and most storefronts were empty husks, doors locked and interiors dusty. Smoke rose from few chimneys despite the early fall morning chill. Some shops were still open – a slow tavern, a butcher with a disconcerting number of insects buzzing near its entrance, an understocked general store, and other dejected business. Few people roamed the streets, all within spitting distance of the poverty line, in either direction.

Swaths of buildings were destroyed – demolished, Wilhelm thought at first, but that didn’t seem right. There wasn’t enough left behind to have been simply demolished. Instead, it looked like the buildings had been stripped for materials. For what he wasn’t sure, but enough of them were gone that it had to have been quite the project. A gaggle of children skittered by, herded by a haggard looking schoolteacher who looked old enough to be his father and tired enough to sleep for a year and wake up exhausted. He wore a brown sweater, seams fraying, and a pair of stained chino pants. His cravat was once a happy multicolored article that would have excited schoolchildren, but now only looked sad. It gave Wilhelm the impression of a retired clown who gave himself away to alcoholism, a shadow of its former self.

The teacher gave them a weary look as they walked past, herding the children just a little bit faster. One of the kids – a ginger boy who looked no older than 6 – stopped and raised a dirt covered hand in his direction. He returned the gesture. The schoolteacher was upon the child immediately, scolding him and pushing him along towards the rest of the group, glancing back with annoyance and a little alarm in his direction. Wilhelm’s hand dropped back to his side.

The mountain still loomed overhead, casting a long, judgmental shadow across the town of Profit’s Landing.

The naval academy was just outside the town proper, demarcated by the walls which separated the two. It imposed over its surroundings like a king’s castle, though the building itself looked to be in a state of disrepair. Stains from god-knows-what littered the stone path and front walls, and the surrounding grass was overgrown, though not enough to impede travel. Some windows were cracked, though most were in working order, and a couple even seemed to have been installed recently. There was someone fighting against its gradual decay, and while they were losing the battle, it seemed they wouldn’t let the academy fade into dilapidation as easy as the town behind him.

The building itself was made of grey stone, uninviting the colder it got. It was tall – probably three stories high, and had spires that reached even higher. Faded banners hung from windows bearing the naval insignia, and bronze letters were hammered into the stone surface, the metal warped around the nails.

It read in a blocky font: Profit’s Landing Naval Academy.

“Shall we?” Jieming asked him to the side. He nodded, and they finally started walking towards the building.

Entering the naval academy felt akin to when he’d visited Tongue River Cave back in Wyoming. The air was cooler, humid, and it felt a little dusty. Stale, like it had been there for quite some time.

Large brown rugs covered the floor to stave off the cold, and it appeared they had been added recently. Already there were footstep marks where people had travelled back and forth across the surface. Unlit sconces adorned the walls every few feet, unnecessary in the daytime.

The center of the room held a worn-down desk with an equally worn-down attendant sitting behind it, hardly visible over the hill of paper that adorned it. He was a pale, bald man with bleary eyes. He released a constant stream of yawns, and a small nameplate hanging off his desk in the same blocky text as the exterior named him as: Jorah

He glanced up from some paperwork and released a small sigh.

“Good day. How can I help you?” he said with a tone that suggested the day was anything but.

Jieming nodded in return. “Good day to you as well. This one,” he gestured towards Wilhelm, “Will be taking the upcoming naval exam. That is, if you’re still holding it.”

“We are,” his voice was nasally without being high-pitched, an odd combination, “I’ll need to take down some information before you can be properly signed up, I’m sure you’ve gone through this before. Hand over your pocketbook, please.”

Jieming nodded, making Wilhelm assume this was all a matter of course.

Wilhelm paused for a moment. Was handing over his pocketbook really such a good idea? He knew his was…strange, and while it was fine when Nate read it, did he want to take that chance? For the first time the man showed brief emotion.

“Oh, and there’s a written form if you’d prefer to not pass it over. Of course, there are no dangers in handing over your pocketbook.” Jorah said with a small amount of surprise. He didn’t seem to have noticed Wilhelm’s pause, rather he was surprised that he’d forgotten to mention it.

It relieved Wilhelm immediately. “The written, please.”

The man looked back blankly. “There are no dangers in handing over your pocketbook.” He repeated tonelessly.

“Still, I’d rather do the written one.” Jieming looked at him from the corner of his eye.

He fished out a document from the massive stack with annoyance, and began reading from it.

“What academy was he taught at?” he directed the questions at Jieming, likely assuming him to be the Captain.

“He was privately instructed.”

Jorah rolled his eyes and marked something down in one of the three columns on the page, but continued.

“Aspected?”

“Yes.”

“Aspected and their paranoia…” he muttered.

“What aspect?”

“The Aspect of Fire.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Hometown and allegiance?”

Jieming looked at Wilhelm, who shrugged and responded:

“White River, Wyoming?”

Jorah glanced up at him and shook his head, and the pen struck the page once more. Wilhelm noticed he marked the column labelled ‘Did not divulge.’

They continued filling out the form for another ten minutes, Wilhelm jumping in when Jieming got a question he couldn’t answer or didn’t know the answer to. It reminded him of the DMV in a way, and made him a little nostalgic. Wilhelm paused.

If he’d been told he would be nostalgic about the DMV a year ago, he would have done something likely harmful in order to stop that future from seeing the light of day. Any outcome was better than that.

“The exam is taking place tomorrow at dawn, you’re just in time.” Jorah said, sounding entirely displeased that they had shown up.

“It will occur for three days after that. If all goes according to plan, it will be complete in four days from now. If you fail to show at the time of arrival, you will not be permitted to join this exam period. The next exam period is at the end of autumn, beginning of winter.”

Jieming thanked him for his time, received no gesture in return, and they turned to leave.

“Wait,” Jorah called from behind them. They paused and turned around.

“Apologies,” he said, rubbing his temple. “My memory has been poor today. The exam will not be headed by our academy’s headmaster, but instead by an outside instructor from the department of integrity sent in by the navy proper.”

All three of them frowned. Quinn and Jieming because they knew what that meant, Wilhelm because he did not.

“Is the headmaster indisposed?” Quinn asked.

Jorah shrugged. “Not as far as I know. There have been rumors regarding the situation, but none that sounded accurate to me.”

“What sorts of rumors?” Wilhelm asked curiously.

“The usual sort when something like this happens. Corruption in this branch or others, the headmaster passed but the academy doesn’t have a replacement yet, internal politics, strife within the inner branches, posturing from the navy. Like I said, none of them seem particularly feasible to me, other than internal politics, but when aren’t those a factor in naval decisions?”

“And what do you think of the matter?” Jieming interjected.

“Me?” He looked surprised to have his opinion asked, “Uh, I’m not sure either. Routine, maybe? I’ve heard of department people like this coming to take over at other branches for a time, it could have just been our turn in the cycle.” He shrugged. “But that’s just a guess, I really don’t know.”

Jieming slowly nodded, thanked him again, and walked off.

“What was that about?” Wilhelm asked once they were entering Profit’s Landing proper again.

“Nothing to worry about,” Jieming said, “Just a little unexpected. Integrity directors taking over exams isn’t necessarily common, but its not unheard of either. It might make the exam a little harder than normal, but you should still be fine. I doubt any of the aspected in the exam will have passed the first control barrier like you, for instance.”

“You think there will be other aspected in the exam?” Quinn asked while Wilhelm frowned.

Jieming shrugged. “Call it a hunch, I guess. Normally a place like this would only have a couple aspected take the exams per year, but I’ve got a feeling it will be higher than normal this time.”

Wilhelm’s thoughts turned back to the ostentatious ship he’d seen docked across the water. They certainly looked wealthy, possibly even wealthy enough to send an aspected all this way just to take their exam. Maybe they thought the exam would be easier at a branch like this, and an integrity director was sent to make sure it wouldn’t be too easy?

Wilhelm shook his head to himself. There was too much he didn’t know, and too much he didn’t understand. The inner workings of the navy were still largely fog to him, and he had no idea what navy politics even looked like. Calypso’s warnings about poaching felt like they helped, but also made him weary. What else did he not know about that everyone else did? Every time he thought he was making some progress into learning about the world at large, he found himself just scraping the surface. He needed to learn, before someone took advantage of his ignorance.

Quinn clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine; they hold aspected to a higher standard, but not that higher of a standard. Plus, this just means you’ll be taking an actual naval exam, not whatever this…interesting…town has cooked up over the years.”

“Think about it this way: If Quinn could pass the exam, you definitely can too.” Jieming snorted.

“Were you not my commanding officer, I would say many unkind things right now.” Quinn replied with a dirty look.

Jieming just laughed, tapping him on the foot with his podao.

“Were I not your commanding officer, I would respond quite unkindly as well.” He said with a wink.

“Tyrant…” Quinn muttered, “Why can’t you be a normal sailor like the rest of us?” He asked Wilhelm, “You’re gonna end up like this guy. Ruthlessly bullying your subordinates at every turn, all because you’re ‘special’ and a ‘powerful aspected’ who can ‘kill me in so many ways there aren’t numbers high enough to track them.’ That last one is a real thing Calypso said to me when I was complaining, by the way.”

“I’m pretty bad at the whole ‘sailor’ thing if you haven’t noticed. Besides, I don’t think I will quite end up like Jieming anyway.” Wilhelm said with a chuckle.

“Of course you won’t,” Jieming put his arm around Wilhelm, “You lack the talent, looks, and wonderful demeanor that’s made me this way. You couldn’t accomplish it if you tried!” He said cheerfully.

“Thanks.” Wilhelm said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a unique specimen.”

“Praise the gods for that,” Quinn muttered, receiving another tap on his foot in retaliation.

Wilhelm smiled and laughed along, chatting with Quinn and Jieming as they walked back to the boat. Still, he couldn’t help but have a pit in his stomach from the looming test tomorrow. Jieming and Quinn had easy demeanors, but at the moment they were forced. Jieming’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he kept tightening and relaxing his grip on his podao while he walked. Quinn’s eyes shuffled around nervously, and his hands were in an infinite loop in and out of his pockets while his shoes scuffed the damaged brickwork road they walked on. They were putting on an act, likely for him, trying to keep him at ease before the exam.

It helped more than he expected. The pit in his stomach didn’t vanish, but it did abate slightly, replaced by a comforting warmth in his stomach from the knowledge that his crewmates would do something even as simple as jokingly arguing to try and put him at ease.

Wilhelm would call them friends, but if all went well during the test, they would be more than that. They’d be family. A family he only found himself in due to luck and circumstance perhaps, but isn’t that all families? Blood or not, it didn’t matter to the primal part of his brain that took solace in having a family of some kind, a group of people who would support him nigh unconditionally, a group of people who he would do the same for.

All he had to do was pass an exam, the very one he’d been working towards for months.

"What could go wrong." he muttered to himself

"Oh come on," Quinn whined, "Really? Do you want to fail?"