The Reconnoiter Company has adapted the ways of the Elven-kin. In a resource-bare fleet, the ideal construction method is to create vertical buildings and then connect them. Ehtara, the head of the builders, the one who has been building the Arkshelled Island’s treehouses, has made the structures to adapt to the high-seas.

Ehtara, the one leading the housing, has made it clear to the builders that the fleet will not stop here. Most of the builders are uncomfortable with the large spaces and despite the opportunity given to the company.

There is a good reason that they do not think lightly of staying here. First, the land is surrounded by the Jagged Peaks, and is like a bowl. One might think it is good, but it is not to the Elven. The soil isn’t fertile, composed of tundra and a grassland. Yes, they might be able to cultivate it, but not without pissing off the sprites of the land. The sprites are friends, but good friends have their lines and theirs is to preserve nature.

The Arkshelled is rather special in a way that the sprites have recognized how the greatest beast that the fleet rely on was a source of warmth and safety.

Most of the sprites also refused to leave their homes. They have agreed to help out in the gathering of the resources. For the people to take only what they have. It’s a discipline instilled by their own doing. A tradition that has been made after years of being surrounded by seemingly endless water.

This generation was rather fortunate to see a large land like this. To the Elven-kin, they are like big children that need taking care of. Of course, although they think that, they also recognize that the Elven-kin who were thrown into this voyage were meant to die. The bondless, they were given a chance to leave Aon or die thinking that they can be allied with the humans.

Eletha Erna of Roan, has been with this ship for a while. You could say that after the first captain died, she was handed the command of the Milostiv and with the wisdom of the Old Captains, she thought she was finally ready to hold the ship for herself.

Her bond to this ship has grown. Eletha Erna has always thought of herself as a muse, a singer, and when she took this position. She didn’t think that one day she’d command her own ship and use her songs to sail it.

The ship itself has changed. The people it has as well and there are only a few who remained.

“This is for the good of the people and of Aon,” she recalled the heavy words of Captain Malfor she said back then. “I don’t think so, Lady. You might outlive us all on this trip.”

He was right. He had outlived all of the crew. There was so little of the original crew and those who have gotten old are free to live in the Arkshelled to watch the twilight of their days.

A tradition has been made. Those who die can choose where to be buried. To become nourishment for the Arkshelled, by giving their body upon death to the island or be buried on the sea. Most of the Elven choose to become nourishment for the Elder Tree growing on the back of the island. The humans… sometimes they wish to become part of the light that shines on the fleet perpetually.

Humans are tragic, short-lived creatures. Those who can escape their mortality are those who retain the blood that allow them to speak the words of power; the Artes that perpetuates their life.

Zyra, the Milostiv’s surgeon, Felecia Avara, the blue-blooded woman whose family once ruled Aon, and Rosalve Merete, the teacher and mentor of the blinder of light, Terin Gaspar, who still sleeps in the tree.

Ah, there was one person who had cheated death and became part of the tree. Doctor Gabrio Treeheart, the Doctor of Milostiv, and the man who stood in front of the Mother of the Land and was given half the life. What’s surprising was that the bestowal did not shorten the lifespan of Doctor Mana, the woman-elf who handed half of her life to a man she was so grateful enough to hand it over.

As she sails the Grand-Galleon of Milostiv around the Tundrae, the new island that they have discovered. She saw the ancient salt that was on the beach. Located westward of Galiford, this beach of sand reminded Eletha Erna of the space quake that turned the old bays to salt. She thought that their trial was not over, and thankfully the old beach of sand had been here for years.

No, their trial is not over until they reach the islands. Find the eye of the world and ‘save’ whatever it is that can be saved. Eletha Erna had long understood that they severely underestimated.

The White Sails tell of their journey. That it’ll be long and harsh. However, they have underestimated how far the distance is. She will not lie to herself and think they had it all figured it out. They didn't even know that their planet was so huge. The oceans are so far wide and sometimes still.

She was… so ignorant of the world. Despite how humans sometimes see them. She was fond of the sights she saw. The world was far too beautiful and too vast to be confined to one spot in the world. Or perhaps the blood of the white sails, the Elven who dared to go into a voyage has awakened? She understood it now. Why would they leave Aon and enter danger? To see the world for themselves and not be afraid.

Even the Elders who came with them had changed. Originally, in the first place, they were judged as bondless, those who wouldn’t mind sharing what they have with the humans who they find so inferior. Like babbling monkeys that needed a guiding hand.

But they were wrong. The deeds of the humans under their care have shown them for what they are. Brave men and women who did not dare to go silent when even the world has made their world dim.

She saw good qualities and sometimes their worst. But they were worth watching and although it may sound odd to the humans. To watch them live their lives and struggle, then return the land and water was quite a sight to see.

Rosalve Merete walks to her side. She remains a wizened woman and the years have made her wiser and at the same time a woman who has been lost to her thoughts ever since the Baron and the Blinder fought on the Strait and fell.

Rosalve, who has seen the dimmed skies, had once said to her. “The blinder has failed to subdue the baron. We don’t know what methods the baron uses to traverse great distances, to cross the in-between, but it allowed them to fulfill their destiny. But the whispers of the interstice have told them that beyond the greater seas. There could have been a group of their own who had tried saving the world.

Seeds are planted in the world. Of course, the possible blinders of the light being separated by great distances meant that there isn’t only one. Rosalve Merete seems to think that someone did try, but was defeated.

In the holy texts and on the scrolls of ancients. It was said that the world would come to a Shift. The world would change for better and worse. Rosalve herself did not think they won, but nonetheless the existence of the sleeping Blinder made her wonder if there are still trials to be held.

So many questions left unanswered. Who is the man of two souls that Terin Gaspar mentioned? And the most important to Eletha is whether their journey would end after finding the thousand islands.

The thousand islands.

A dream that everyone shared.

The young of the fleet might not think much of the thousand islands. But those who still could remember the dreams of the first generation thrived to fulfill their destiny. The Elven-kin remembers the mission. Those who have the blood remember the missions. As long as they exist. The true purpose and the mission of the Fleet would remain.

Rosalve Merete lifts her head up and glances at the beach of salt. The salt had hardened, but some of the salt remained on top as if it was never moved by the sea around it.

“I have seen the bottoms of the ocean. There are signs that this place was once a mountain.”

“The sprites have told me.”

“Madam, I think the world might have drowned. And the mist and fog we see in our journey is nothing more than the remnants of that flood. The world cooled and now that the sun is up again… the world is starting to heal.”

“Do you think there are many of your kind who survived? Back in the old bays?”

“I… don’t know. Perhaps, Aon survived, and our home remained. I doubt it. But we have survived despite being surrounded by the ocean, although we are fortunate to have the island with us. Without the island. We would be dead.”

The Arkshelled Island is alive. It has always been alive and throughout the years it has grown large. The fleet-kin would not have survived if it wasn’t for the existence of the island. They would have grown mad and perished mid-journey.

“Times have changed.”

“Indeed, perhaps the young will understand what it would be like to feel the earth beneath them. I do fear that some might decide to leave the fleet and remain here. It is large enough to sustain and there are those who have grown tired of the travel.”

“They will not stay here.”

“Maybe, but it is a thought I dare not to ponder. Then again, the isolation of this island and the threats of the stilled sea would be a danger to them. We have our Doctor inform them.”

She places her eyes on Rosalve. Then to the Doctor who is lecturing the lads who are going to be exploring the side of the island. Like a worrywart father who couldn’t bear seeing his kids die.

Ah, now that she thought of it, she recalled the blushing young man who was enthralled by her song before the voyage. Thinking back now, she didn’t think that the man who looked at her like that would… remain.

He was once so young. And now a man in his prime. His matured appearance. His strict yet caring ways that could endure for generations. To say that the Doctor kind is an understatement. How can someone retain such strict kindness throughout the years sometimes baffle her. Kind and caring, but not a pushover either.

It was hard to hate a man who would beg for you to allow him to help. He could remember meeting the man as he held Captain Malfor’s hand as he passed away. He sat on his side for two days, holding the old Captain, easing his burden. He didn’t know what disease it was. They didn’t know what sickness the Captain had, but nonetheless he remained on his side until he stopped breathing air.

As he closed the eyes of the Captain, Eletha stood on the doorway of the cabin and watched the Captain’s essence flee. She could remember asking how he could endure such pain.

“Milady,” she recalled him saying with his eyes on the Captain. “We have many roles and I am a Doctor. I think that a Doctor should remain… a doctor and that role is to heal. If I can’t even soothe his pains at the end of his days… then I am not qualified to remain as a Doctor.”

Whether he was simply kind or not.

The Doctor remained a strange figure to Eletha. A man who would rather heal than tear. A constant source of reason and someone who this ship has grown to care so much about.

Rosalve walks down and informs the Doctor. The Doctor listens to her words, nods, and turns his attention back to the lads on the deck. Rosalve went back to Eletha Erna’s side and watched.

“He said he will. Such a tireless man.”

“That he is.”

Eletha Erna turns her attention back to the boats being lowered on the sea. Then she turns her eyes to the sun painting the still blue seas with its color.

Perhaps the views of this island soon would become a familiar sight.