137 Chapter 122: Southern Venture(2)

It was nearly night when Jeff left his cave for the final time. The walk into the cabin proper was a bit uneven as jellied legs tried to compensate for the fact that his spine felt like it had been used as a swing. Despite that, his brown pants and grey shirt were proper and the leather coat was slung on with some grace. Womanly hands came over his shoulders to adjust the collar.

"I have to meet up with my uncle to catch up with how our domain has fared. We're close enough that I was able to send a raven ahead. Farave responded with no haughtiness, so it appears his mind is somewhere in reality. Maybe not in this one, but some form of it."

He turned around to take her in a hug. There were a few layers of cloth between them now, though the love in her green eyes was just as strong in proper attire.

"And how will we meet up? I hope you don't think this trip is all I want."

"WE want." Pache refuted with a forceful gripping of his back. Their heads pulled together to rest on the other's shoulder. "It won't be hard. A new trade route for food is something I can easily justify spending a few hours here and there 'helping with'."

A second of her breathing on his shoulder passed before she spoke again with some earnest need.

"That probably gave you the wrong impression. Don't think this is some fake job I'm giving you to waste time on between bouts in bed. The need for more food is deathly important."

"There didn't seem to be a lot of farms up north." Jeff rebutted in a mild tone. He felt her head dip with a nod against his shoulder.

"No, but now there is an open path for smugglers from the Coalition. That plant mage will be a great boon if he decides stepping on the Grower's toes is worth it. Neither will be enough, however."

Jeff pulled back a bit to take in her jade pools that now had some worry.

"The Fjords nearly lost their link to the royal family. That might have been a fair venture if you had known the plant mage would show up beforehand but besides that…. It seems like a big gamble for a few coppers." He pressed.

"It wasn't supposed to be a risk." Pache mused with a bit lip. "We thought Passtoon's watch would hold out longer than it did. Between that and the military district catching flame…. Honestly, it was still worth it."

This time, Jeff merely raised his eyebrows. His lover continued biting her lip for a second before speaking with a deep breath.

"Our bellies are full for now, but every eye can see starvation cresting over the horizon. For the next few days, I'm going to be reading reports from governors explaining how spirits are high and they managed to keep the ship upright despite the storm due to their incredible skill and charisma. Despite their grand achievements, it won't give their subsequent appeal for more food a greater chance.

The stocks will go up with a few harvests from the Grower's farms or the catch of a lucky fisherman and none of it will change the trajectory of things. Everything that could be done was already finished by the time I left. Maybe we'll have some luck and eke out things for a bit longer than expected, but in a few months or half a year, we'll have to start rationing."

Pache's grip tightened on Jeff. He returned the gesture to coddle her like his arms would push away the arithmetic haunting her mind.

"Why not start rationing as soon as the trade route was cut?" He asked with a light kiss on her cheek.

"It makes everything worse." She refuted with a tired sigh. "We need to keep things together long enough for our shipwrights to finish rebuilding our fleets. Cutting down on food leaves guards less spry to protect against saboteurs, sailors struggling with deliveries, and officials eyeing the remaining stores to refill their personal larders. Which all leads to riots and easier access for the pirate's spies.

We're trying to get as many ships on the seas as possible before then but…. These are going to be a few nasty years, Harold. The good side of it will come. Probably. But this is going to be a slow battle fought by a thousand needle pricks instead of a decisive slash to the throat like back at Crasden. Waged every day in grueling patience."

Pache's tone made it clear she was giving him clearance to run at some point in the future. Jeff, ever the romantic, gripped her bottom through the brown dress and pulled her flush against him.

"If it would bring you even a small smile, I would personally scour the poison clouds in a dingy for an undiscovered passage to help."

Pache was drawn up short, with a slight quiver in her chin and some pink in her smooth cheeks. It always struck Jeff how a few kind words would make a woman unfurl like this, even if there was no other way he would have it. Her embarrassment lasted only a moment longer before she attacked him with those thick pink lips.

A knock at the door a few minutes later cut through the sucking sounds.

"Lady Pache. We have arrived." Quinton's voice called through the wood.

Jeff slowly let his toy down from the wall while she made them both proper for public viewing with a few tugs on corners of clothing and smoothing of hairs. When she finished, he went back to the slice of heaven he had spent days in to retrieve his bag of goods. His return was met with a nod from Pache who opened the outer door.

The sun was dying in the sky, leaving huge swathes of its orange blood painting the clouds above. He had paid so little attention to anything besides Pache's body these past few days, that taking in the sky preoccupied him for a second before moving right to let his lover pass. The deck below had swarms of men working ropes and crates of goods brought down from the north. Her majesty didn't give him much time to take in the activity as her finger moved in front of him to point off towards the right.

Flat plains replete with huge stalks of grass stretched over a coastline of sandy dunes. Here and there were patches of bark from trees pulling into the dirt. Even from the deck, the wilds didn't give up their charms easily with those dunes and green tufts covering everything to be seen for miles.

"Rashton." Pache proclaimed in his left ear.

Jeff's gaze moved further ahead to see a wide slab of stone jutting up as a wall. Nine or even ten stories of smooth grey rock stood against nature with nothing peaking above its lisp save a few specks moving back and forth over the top. Any beauty in the scene was lost on the lightning caster who could only concentrate on how warm it was. Having spent almost his entire life on the more balmy Coalition seaside, adjusting to the fact that seeing sky entailed having his lungs suck in ice was something he never fully adjusted to. Now a humid breeze of not quite cold blew through his shirt and over his skin. The prospect of feeling natural heat on his skin was so temptingly close, though the season and late hour conspired to deny the miracle.

Beauty proved rather short-lived as the wind pushed the ship closer to the city proper. The first view was something closer to a recent addition to Crasden's harbor, an artificial island off to the left side. It was a proper fort on sharp, craggy stone complete with large trebuchets and a full harbor holding ships. The similarities continued on the mainland with a strong stone dock and multistory mansion serving as a harbor office slowly revealing themselves behind the wall. That left side quickly gave way to row after row of storehouses being swarmed over by the dockworkers. It all looked of solid construction and seemed to follow the metal and glass sidings of Crasden until the midsection of the harbor presented itself.

Smooth stone gave way to jagged pieces fixed in place with crude mortar. Wooden piers were to the same standard on both sides and it was the only thing that made Jeff feel good about pulling into this section done up with sloven masonry untouched by magic. The stalls along this section of piers were closer to the Coalition style with stone and wood construction.

Beyond the den of merchants laid streets flanked by huge blocky buildings that were nearly side-by-side. These square abodes reached six floors with that seamless stone telling of magical construction. In most places, at least. Here and there was more of the stonework untouched by mana, patching walls and ceilings where the elements had worn at the structure.

Besides each were slim alleyways crowded with humanity and the accompanying trash. In Crasden the slum was hidden in the back, out of sight of visitors and proper society. Here, the eyesore would not be denied its place on the stage and rounded out its promise of claustrophobia with a whiff of sewage wafting from the pier being pulled into.

"Home." Pache softly announced with more warmth than seemed warranted.

Jeff only nodded as he followed her down to the right where a long plank was being placed on the pier. Getting the unwieldy slab in position took long enough that he was able to set up a spirit connection.

'I don't suppose I'll be staying in your bed?' He asked as he took in the barely cold breeze that felt like an oven's breath after so long in the icy lands.

'Not regularly, even if I'm idle. A bare minimum of decorum has to be maintained.' She responded with some disappointment being emphasized by the slamming of the wooden plank onto the pier. 'This venture is one of mutual benefit with the Fairy kingdom and its expenses will be equally distributed. They've agreed to provide basic housing and food for you while you work on the boat and enchantments as a token of goodwill.

Of course, that doesn't cover your actual payment. One good thing is the associations haven't corralled such ventures under their auspices and you can negotiate it without external nagging. Do you have any ideas of what you want?'

The men finished parting ways for their departure, with the queen leading in the front. He followed behind her, though her two guards still interjected themselves between their charge and the crowd.

'Five percent of the goods sounds nice. In coin if mana crystals aren't available.' Jeff announced with Pache's first step on the plank.

'I fear I may not have been very clear on the odds, Harold. This venture is probably, almost certainly, going to end with letters explaining failure and some paperwork shoved in some corner to never be used again. No upfront payment may mean you get nothing from this venture.' She said with a tone of worry that didn't seem to involve her being over the crashing waves.

As he followed up behind her, Jeff saw a small crowd of paper-wielding attendants looking rather anxiously at their queen from the wooden flooring sticking out over the ocean.

'I'm already giving the project my time, I might as well commit to the full benefit. Besides, the…. Indirect benefits have an appeal beyond the monetary.'

The bowl of black hair swished with her slight look back, those jade pools holding mirth despite the stoic face below them. Jeff suppressed a smile for the sake of present company as he continued.

'To say nothing of what harvest a connection with the Faeries might bring. Not being constantly on the verge of a frozen death also sounds pretty nice.'

Pache nodded in understanding.

'The Fairy embassy is along the track towards the small castle serving as my domain. A single look will tell you which building it is. Since they'll be providing your housing, I suppose we'll have to say goodbye at their road.'

The queen finished her words with a step towards the crowd of attendants. An older gentleman moved forward with his page and a regretful smile. That electric buzz on Jeff's skin died as Pache turned to the newest problem.

"Lady Verness, your sister Janice has sent a request for some assistance." The old man announced with a tired air.

"How much coin does the scion-to-be need now?" Pache grumbled with no regard to the onlookers as she merged into the crowd.

Jeff enjoyed the rolling waves and slightly warm air as he ambled behind the shifting collage of messenger boys, maids, and accountants. None knew who he was, but the make of his clothes and respectful look from Pache marked him as a man not to be questioned.

Approaching the city left a mixed impression. The floors showed a harsh cut-off in the smooth stone to shoddy brickwork that made it clear where the destruction had occurred so long ago. A few vendors showed off stalls filled with fruits and vegetables. They easily drew his attention among the others due to the pinks, purples, and yellows of their produce.

As interesting as some of the prickly fruit looked, the smell of sewage overtook any interest he had in the stalls. Off to the right just outside the wall was a slightly brown stream serving as the outlet. Crasden had the sewer river take the waste further out, yet it was not the first issue. Just beyond the harbor district was a thick mass of pedestrians going about their day in a near shoulder-to-shoulder packing. Something that didn't deter Pache's group as they joined the mayhem with Jeff following closely behind.

It was only a few steps into the journey when a sense of claustrophobia began smothering him. He stole to the right side of the main street where carts took goods to and from the warehouses with a stone wall an arms reach away yet interceded with no less than three other travelers going about their business. The stacked blocks of housing stretched along the brick road for as far as could be seen making the clacks of thousands of shoes on stone meld into the endless chatter. The space provided by Pache's group pushing through barely kept the constant packed masses of pedestrians off his toes while he in turn had to make sure someone's leather shoe wasn't beneath the sole of his boot.

Rashton was the seat of a major house and the center of sea-bound command for the Rodring Kingdom. These facts did nothing to keep the sides of the houses from seemingly leaning over him nor did they disprove the notion that he was in a cage designed for humans. Surrounded by the full force of nature, the walls dwarfed everything else to keep out the monsters. This had the effect of revealing the city boundaries, which went just a few dozen blocks further beyond the last house on the main street.

A minute into the city left his nose picking up more sweat than sewage. At the end of the road was the first major traffic crossing. A square of red brick serving as the meeting place of four different streets brought the chorus of the local capital to its peak. Every thought struggled for space in his skull as a thousand conversations, footsteps, and stomping horse hooves flooded his senses. It wasn't an entirely new experience, as he had spent time in other cities along the Coalition's coast.

Here, when a bird flew above in the open sky its wide turns in the air seemed to mock his inability to so much as stretch his arms. Even in the underground base, there was enough room to move properly in every hallway. Stale air slick with grime and sweat gradually pushed out the fresh ocean breeze lingering in his lungs through a reluctant nose. He dared not open his mouth as they crossed the road under the eyes of a traffic director in white and blue clothing. On taking to the next street, the expected space never arrived with the coffin of flesh still pressing against him.

He followed behind the attendees until they turned left over another road. At the end of the new street was a large stone box with archer towers on the corners. Its back showed a pulley system on the large wall for delivering goods up or down on a long slab of wood. The next thing that demanded attention among the sea of bobbing heads was a side of odd purple stone that interrupted the unending lines of houses on the right side of the street.

The curio quickly revealed itself to be a wall around a building of three-story smooth stone topped with a half-circle, glazed over with pinks and teals. The knowledge that it was some kind of solidified goo from the faeries skin made him want to push away from its side of the street. His sideways step away was countermanded by the memory saying it was the end point of his trip south.

A romantic notion demanded a swooning farewell from his woman. That would make their relationship a publicly known quantity with all attending political problems, not that the lustful heart cared. Still, he made a dutiful right turn towards the gate in front of the embassy with only a look towards the group trundling further ahead. One last attempt to catch that bowl of black hair ended in failure, leaving him to knock on the single wooden door placed in the stone. A slot in the door was pulled back, revealing a steel-plated helmet with a widened jaw section and large teal eyes within.

"Yes?" Demanded the singing voice just close enough to be heard over the chorus of the crowd.

"Harold. Air mage on business with the ambassador….Faver?"

A raise of hairless eyebrows on grey skin greeted the fumbled name of the ambassador, but it wasn't accompanied by an immediate rejection.

"A minute." The male Fairy commanded before he closed the board.

Jeff perused the late-day skies for more birds until the clank of wood drew him back to ground level. This time it was the door itself being pulled open. His greeter was the armored fairy who had his aquatic wings sticking out of his ribs fluttering through slits in his steel breastplate. He was a foot shorter than Jeff, yet the sword holstered at his hip was no less intimidating for it.

"You are indeed expected." The guard announced with a few high trills before nodding towards the building.

Jeff returned the nod as he went through the door. Wide stone floors greeted his feet and the first feeling of space he had since coming ashore. That sense of bodily freedom died when he looked around to see that the 'yard' in front of the building was less than a bedroom of space.

If the reemergence of discomfort was noticed, the guard didn't comment on it as he waited to Jeff's left. The lightning caster walked over the stone yard accompanied by another Fairy in a looser robe of grey coming up from the right. The clothing was of good quality with a few streaks of teal and pink in it that matched the sparse scales along her skin matching those colors. Their wider jaw and slits for a nosed were fully exposed and the slices of pink lettuce on her jostled with the pull on the door leading into the building.

The entrance was bare with only stone walls and green carpet covering the entire floor. A step forward made him realize that it was living grass being trampled underfoot. When the attendant walked past, he saw she was biting her grey lips though no words came out of them.

"Should I take off my shoes?" Jeff asked with a polite smile.

"Our guest should do what he finds most comfortable." The singing voice responded with a particularly high note at the end. Teal eyes brimming with irritation held the true answer. When Jeff pulled back to take off his shoes and socks to place them in the bag, the attendant nodded in appreciation as she took the lead. The grass was surprisingly wet against his bare feet. After a few steps, the ground felt a bit uneven in places like there were thumb-sized holes hidden under the indoor lawn.

There were two doors on the sides, neither of which his guide moved towards. Going further down a hallway, Jeff began noticing a change in the air as they took a left at an intersection. The atmosphere was more like that of dense woodlands, changing out the sting of compressed body odor with a freshly rained forest. It distracted him long enough that they were halfway down the hall before he noticed the sound of sloshing water beneath the living carpet.

The whimsical impression of a quaint hovel was undone when he remembered how his first sighting of their kind was their arrow points peeking through bushes. Sure enough, a look on the sides revealed several holes for spears and arrows fixed in the stone. Holes that seemed to match the size of those in the floor. Though the walls and ceilings in this section were plain grey rock unblemished with the multi-color glaze seen on the outside. He would have paid more attention to the fine details if not for the tiredness seeping into his body. Days of non-stop play were starting to take effect now that he wasn't near the woman in question but he still soldiered on behind the maid.

At the end of the hallway was a window showing faint sunlight, most of which bathed the hall in a golden glow, including the oak door to the right. The fairy sped up to open the entrance for him with a slight bow. He returned the gesture and went through into a room sporting a solid wooden floor.

A single mana lamp in the center of the ceiling bathed the occupants and scant furniture in a light similar to the one outside the door. The person it had the most effect on was the Fairy at the stone desk in the back, casting a slight shadow on his grey face from the triangular leather hat. The slits for his nose and teal eyes were typical of his kin, but the prim leather jacket and white shirt were distinctly human. Clothing that starkly contrasted with the brown robes of his two guards on each side. Those grey hands rubbed against his strong chin below the wide jaw and his sharp ears twitched slightly beneath the hat.

"Ah, Harold?" He asked with only a slight trill.

"Yes. I do hope that Pache wrote a good letter of recommendation." Jeff offered with a small step forward. He forced himself into full wakefulness as he prepared to negotiate potentially years of his future.

"Your feet speak well enough of your amicability. Of course, hearing of your willingness to work under people some mages would consider beneath them certainly bolstered my opinion of this operation."

A mental hiccup came with the first part of the compliment, but the lightning caster quickly recovered. Farave seemed rather casual about the whole meeting as he lounged back into his chair, not exactly someone on the cusp of solving a coming crisis. Something Pache warned him about.

"Are such small things so important for a project of this magnitude?" He politely asked the ambassador, calling upon his diplomatic skills honed from his earliest years being groomed for politics.

A smile stole over the Faerie's face with his lean forward.

"In my younger days, I might have tolerated discourtesy for the sake of greater gains, but when I accepted such ventures it usually turned out that the rude were covering for incompetence. Of course, those adventures typically had more substantial prospects for profit."

The ambassador looked his guest up and down, those teal eyes measuring every inch presented.

"And were you fully informed of the specifics concerning this escapade?"

A slight cough from his throat and Jeff mechanically listed out the points.

"We're looking for some way to pierce through the poison coast. My magic will help keep the toxic spores out of the crew's lungs and we all get a juicy trade route that runs goods in a fraction of the time."

A nod sent one of the lettuce skins down Farave's face, which was promptly tucked back in.

"Good. Do you know the likelihood of success?"

Jeff gave him a light smile.

"We're looking at nearly certain failure."

Farave nodded again, this time keeping the fairy equivalent of hair in place.

"So what will our air mage demand to foster this fool's hope?"

"A seven percent cut of goods transported over the route. Paid in coin or mana crystals."

Hairless grey eyebrows raised with the absurd offer, even as the ambassador's wide jaw broke out in a grin.

"I have the authority to put such an agreement to paper and make it law with a signature from my queen. But seven percent isn't something I can send her with my hide still intact. Four percent."

Jeff shook his head with a steady look into those teal pools.

"Getting a mage to spend their sweat and time on a fool's hope is a tough prospect. I'm not getting any upfront payment besides my room and sustenance. A generous proposition for you that favors the most likely outcome of this venture and a very risky thing for me. Risk, as you well know, demands a charitable payout. Six percent."

Grey fingers strummed the rock desk for a second before Farave flattened his palm.

"In the event of success, it won't be you loading the ships or preparing the goods. Considering the trips still have to be profitable, I will need to consult with some of our merchants to get a final number. A figure between five point seven and five is what I can guarantee."

"I can wait a few days for the specifics." Jeff agreed as he stood a bit straighter. "The now doesn't need to be delayed, though. Where's the ship?"

Even the guards smiled at his question.

"Oh? It's encouraging to see you so eager after such a long trip. Unfortunately, the ship will be arriving later tonight and will need a full resupply including a rotation of crew. I would advise a similar refreshment for you. While I won't force you, this venture requires a certain amount of discretion. Staying here will ensure maximum security. If you would be so trusting."

Jeff did a slight bow.

"I'm already trusting you enough to go out on the seas with sailors on your coin. Though I can't say I'm familiar with your food, so I make no promises I won't require meals brought in from elsewhere."

Grey eyebrows raised at his acceptance, more in surprise this time.

"Excellent. As agreeable as this conversation has been, time is an ever-scarce commodity. Lacel will be taking you to the ship in the morning. The guard with a great fondness for your steel."

With a final exchange of smiles, Jeff turned back through the door and into the hallway. The Fairy woman was waiting with a small bow. She led him back and took a right, stopping at the doors on opposite sides of the hallway near the entrance. The guide opened the one on the right with another bow, ignoring a splash of water from below the grass carpet.

"This is the residence for human guests. Will you require a meal or other accommodations?"

"No, just a night's rest," Jeff replied as he moved past her.

She bowed again before leaving him to peruse the room with a close of the oak door. It was a simple thing of smooth stone, with a bare wooden desk on the immediate left complete with a chair and a mana lamp on the low ceiling above. Near the wall on the left was a bed of wood and white sheets next to a wardrobe for clothes. A half-circle molded into the stone floor on the right made what he assumed to be the bath.

There was something odd about the room, the specific thing not coming to Jeff's tired mind until he paid closer attention to the material of the furniture. The wood, from the bed to the band rimming the depression in the floor, was a deep purple. Nearly black yet the eyes still picked up that rich color upon passing inspection. The past few days of labor had the balm of animal ecstasy, ointment that started waning with the prospect of a proper night's sleep. By the time he set down his bag in front of the bed, the call of oblivion was hard to pull away from. Some voice said to get a few minutes rest then see what the city offered and he obeyed.

A knock at the door woke him from the nap. The lightning mage pushed his head into the pillow for a moment before rolling over and lifting his upper half. Jeff's grey eyebrows raised in surprise at how he didn't feel like his life was being sucked out by bitter cold.

This seemingly lost generosity from the weather didn't prevent a stumble out of the sheets nearly sending him face-first into the stone floor. The hop away from the bed was a visage less graceful than what his childhood self envisioned for a mage, yet he persisted towards the entrance of the room despite falling so short of that heavenly ideal. Jeff seized the handle and pulled it open to reveal the maid sporting a plate of cooked fish and eggs.

"We'll have a pot of water warmed for your bath once you need it." She sang to him before offering the plate.

Jeff stole a look to the right, looking out the open door to the wider world. The sky had the bare sun of early morning with a slight mist hanging over the street. He turned back to the maid and took the meal with an appreciative nod.

"I'll be ready in a minute." He responded with a slow close of the door. Left with little time from his night-long nap, he scarfed down the food with no time to taste anything. A quick perusing of the sack for clothes produced the needed white shirt and brown pants just in time for another knock.

This time the maid was accompanied by a duo of men hoisting a large barrel of steaming water between them. His caretaker produced a bar of soap, a towel, and a water bowl with a crude toothbrush that she placed on the desk. Splashing water announced the tipping of the barrel into the bath and filled the room with a humid warmth.

When the last drop fell into the immaculately crafted hole, the Fairies left the room with a trio of bows. Ready to feel properly warm, yesterday's clothes were hastily pried off. Jeff slipped into the steamy half-bowl with a small sigh as wisps of steam rolled off his chest and legs. A half-bowl was oddly shaped for a human, leaving him to wonder if the room was actually meant for Faeries or if the one who designed it didn't fully appreciate certain contours of the human form. Despite that, too few minutes passed before the spa became lukewarm and he was forced to do a quick scrub with the soap in lukewarm water. After drying off with the towel and brushing his teeth, Jeff was soon clad in his white shirt and brown pants. Since this might be a long venture, he also donned his leather jacket and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Opening the door, he found the armored fairy waiting by the entrance to the embassy. He got a simple nod towards the outside lawn for direction. Jeff followed his new guide out onto the main street. The traffic wasn't as hectic as no ships would chance the morning feeding frenzy, leaving only three or four people in arms reach as he walked. A luxury that had been improperly cherished until now. His guard stuck to his right while bare stone walls interspersed with doors and thin alleys took up his left.

"Do you find this agreeable?" Lacel asked from the mouth slit of his steel helmet.

"Anything in particular you're talking about?" Jeff responded as they strode down the street with only the occasional passerby.

"The lack of humans."

Raised grey eyebrows greeted the question.

"I like people. Being surrounded by so many you can barely move your arms is a bit beyond my comfort, however."

"Hmm." The steel helmet exhaled without another sound besides the surrounding footsteps and a few bits of passing conversation from the other pedestrians.

Instead of carts moving goods along the main venues of traffic, wagons loaded with dung and trash took up most of the noise this early. It was as good a time as any to do the needed cleaning, Jeff idly thought to himself. Of course, the occasional pair of grey feet sticking out of the back of one or more carts added a grim air to the proceedings.

The turn at the heart of the city onto a rightward street presented more of the endless buildings with a view of endless blue waves beneath a rising sun at the far end. His stroll down the street towards the sea continued for a minute before someone came out of an alley to the right. Lacel put a hand to his sword, though relaxed when the figure was revealed to be a small boy sporting a mop of brown hair.

"Good evening, sirs. Looking for a steady hand or a good messenger boy? Could walk all the streets with a blindfold on, if needed." He offered with a smile missing a few teeth.

Jeff doubted he had the strength to lift much judging from his thin arms and pronounced cheekbone. The lad wasn't gaunt, but the fat of childhood was conspicuously missing from his frame beneath a poorly fitting grey shirt and pants. Brown eyes told of a hoped-for meal. The lightning mage's hand went for some coin but he remembered leaving the purse buried deep in his bag.

"No," Lacel replied patiently.

The kid must have been used to rejection, as he merely bowed with a cascade of poorly trimmed brown hair before shuffling back into the alley. Further in, Jeff noticed several figures huddled around a few torn tents. The alley was clearly never intended to house people, yet the place was home to what looked like a dozen or so children ranging from nine to fourteen.

"Orphans," Lacel explained as they continued their walk to the docks. "Battles always leave a load of them, and the one out on the sea near the Coalition made more than even the orphanage can take in."

Jeff only nodded as he numbly strolled forward, desperately trying to not mentally revisit the carts and ponder how small some of those grey feet were.

Finding his destination among the various bobbing masses of wood took only a single look down the line. Unless a particularly eccentric merchant fancied having a purple bow for their ship, the Faeries were near the middle of the right side of the dock. Lacel confirmed the suspicion by pushing further ahead of his charge towards it. The rest of the Fairy vessel was gradually revealed from behind a massive merchant ship and it fit with everything else he had seen from its makers.

A relatively thin hull with deep purple in all the wood, now glazed over with pinks, teals, and streaks of yellows. The sails were the only rebellious feature, pure white triangles that would maneuver quickly in the wind. While less than half the size of its neighbors, it was too graceful to be called a runt, and the ballistae on the sides too menacing for a boat of casual luxury.

"Guard." A fairy waiting near the center of the ship called. A team of blue-robed faeries were placing a long plank of wood in front of him. Donned in the same blue robe as the others, a yellow cap with a small piece of the cloth sliding down his grey face to rest between the slit nostrils marked him as an official of some kind. The smack of the plank hitting the dock made the greeter move down toward ground level, stopping only when he was in front of the new arrivals.

"Is this the air mage?" He asked politely as pink eyes looked the human up and down.

Steel clanked with Lacel's nod.

"The name is Harold." The lightning caster put in with a friendly smile.

The might-be-captains grey head jerked back and the faerie's wide jaw went slightly agape in shock.

"Sorry, Harold. His tribe was originally from the Fair lands." Lacel offered apologetically.

Jeff turned to meet the gaze of his attendant, making sure to convey how little that told him. The teal eyes looked uncertain about how to begin explaining it but a third party couged behind them.

"Speaking of such lost beauty isn't something to be done in passing." A familiar voice called from behind.

The trio turned to see the ambassador coming up behind them with his guards on each side.

"The queen wants specifics on how this will be accomplished. A conversation best held in the captain's abode. Lacel, the roost needs watching." He stated with a small dip of his triangle hat. The shirt beneath the leather jacket was the same grey of his guard's robes now, though any modesty was undone by his boots sporting a few gold strands along the top.

The now twice as large group walked up the plank and onto the ship while the glinting steel of Lacel marched off the dock. Jeff was given no time to look around as the official quickly ushered them leftward through the raised section of the ship serving as a cabin. Inside was something more akin to a wooden cave than Pache's abode. A sling was fixed along the right while a wooden desk in the back by the window served as the focal point. The oddest feature was a stone cylinder on the left. On top of which was a rough yellow sponge that acted as a cap. Whatever purpose it served couldn't be gleaned before Farave commandeered the seat behind the desk.

"So," He announced with a clasping of his palms. "How will this be done, captain?"

The now apparent captain came up behind Jeff's right.

"We typically smear a cloth in a vegetable oil and tightly attach it to the mouth. That gives us an hour or so of stiff breathing before the yellow spores squirm their way past. I can't say how air magic would work with that."

"Personal protections won't work for long voyages mister…."

The captain's large eyes further widened while his lips puckered in something Jeff guessed was offense.

"Ah, yes." Farave cut in. "The Fair lands. One of our more beautiful former territories and the home of our captain's tribe."

"One of?" The officer put out a defiant look and stuck out of the slight chin below the wide jaw. A note of anger came first. "It was THE most beautiful. Our fruits were so sweet and succulent people came from the City. When the Humans, Dwarves, and Elves from the Lost Lands first plodded into our groves, it was our harvest that fed the homeland."

The captain seemed more despondent than angry now as his pink eyes got a listless aspect.

"Ships crafted in the Fair Lands harbors were art given to the seas. Something we can only mock with these meager works"

Blue robes slightly heaved with the last word. There was pain in the Fairy, dulled as it was by exhaustion. A subject so worn with use that the peak of anger wasn't too high, nor the despair too deep. Farave nodded at every word, more restrained in his manner but his eyes held no less grief as he picked up the thread of conversation.

"And part of living on the beautiful islands was a practice of keeping names private. A pseudo name is given for business, though etiquette demands it be asked for. Offering or demanding a name without proper relations is assuming intimacy."

The lightning mage coughed into his hand before turning towards the captain.

"Air mage it is, then. As I was saying, personal protections aren't going to work. Mana is unpredictable for people who can't see it and we could end up having a few people get a lung-full of poison because their crafts got stuck in a thin spot of the blue specks. Having big crafts for the ships bearing batteries to pull from mana crystals is the safest option."

The captain, his breathing now returned to normal, bit a lower lip with his sharp teeth.

"How will your magic keep the poison clouds out?"

"A bubble around the ship that prevents any air on the outside from coming in. That does require the tricky bit of getting fresh air inside, of course."

The captain shook his head.

"I can't say I know much about magic, but the clouds only go above the spotters nest in strong winds."

"Then we can set up a tunnel along the mast with an oiled cloth at the end."

"A tunnel going up the mast?" The ambassador cut in with a raised eyebrow.

"Not a tunnel like a cave, more like…." Jeff puckered his lips as he struggled to put the half-realized vision into words "Wooden circles on the side of the pole pulling air in from the outside in a column with other holes elsewhere pushing outward to maintain airflow."

"And how soon will that be finished?" Farave asked with a lean forward onto the desk.

The lightning mage shrugged to some dissatisfied looks from the Fairy company.

"That depends on how much testing is required. It would be faster if we had a brazier or torch for smoke, but I can't guarantee a timeline. Not if you want it done safely."

"How could it be dangerous?" The captain asked with a hand to his jaw, those pink eyes fully engaged.

Jeff put two flat hands up and pushed them together.

"Magical manipulation fields act on the material itself. If some air gets caught in one trying to move it in the tunnel while the bubble craft is trying to keep it still." He emphasized the point by pushing the two palms left then right. "they will waste mana fighting each other. The worst part is it won't be obvious at first. They'll just suck their mana batteries at a faster rate and it will likely take long enough that you'll be in the middle of the death cloud when it prematurely fails. That's besides the obvious scenario where the air all gets sucked out and we suffocate on an open ship."

"Hmm." The captain hummed. "Torches soaked in sap should be easy to get. Wooden circles seem like a special order, though."

Jeff shook his head.

"It doesn't need to be any specific shape. A barrel lid would do. The biggest pain will be setting up all the lines to have them pull from mana crystals. I would suggest some white paint to mark the enchantments so the sailors know where not to mess with the wood."

"A doable list." The captain offered with a turn to the ambassador.

"What of the requirements for you?" Farave asked, his piercing teal eyes taking in Jeff's every move.

"Going by the breakfast I had earlier is typical of Fairy food, I should be fine with the meals. If they come in bigger portions. Aside from a properly sized bed, I would appreciate some understanding for my 'shedding'."

Smiles broke out among the Faeries including the ambassador.

"You've had some dealings with the less….acclimated of our kind?"

"It's a personal story, involving Pache. But yes, I'm aware of your aversion to our dandruff."

Farave nodded with a smile as he pulled back into the chair.

"Ah, I believe I know what business you're talking about. Fear not, this crew has a long history of working with humans. I can't say you'll enjoy the same level of hospitality as we provided, but the brutes here have some charm."

A small chortle came from the captain, who put his hands in the arms of his robes.

"We haven't gone as local as the ambassador has, I'll admit. Even so, most won't give you trouble and our accommodations will be made more comfortable. Any concerns can be seen to while the needed items are procured."

The captain walked forward with a stern look. Farave nodded as he vacated the stolen throne. The leather-clad Fairy came up to Jeff with a smile in his wide jaw.

"You said this venture will almost certainly fail. I can't say I disagree, but that doesn't mean it won't be properly funded. Any materials you require can be requested from the esteemed lord of this ship. Of course, asking for the magical resources to become a scion or buying a personal residence will be flagged for review."

Jeff gave a small smile of faux appreciation. The Faerie's generosity would only be considered ample to a peasant, as the lightning mage knew extracting so much labor from those who could work mana, forget one with an element, would require several times whatever they could expend on this adventure.

He was led out of the room with Farave, who gave him one last dip of his triangular hat before stepping towards the plank. Clouds ambled through the blue sky above, lending a pleasant look to the air that didn't seem intent on sucking out his life with frigid tendrils. A blue-robed sailor went past him into the captain's office. Jeff was content to wait off to the left while the ambassador disembarked.

It took only a minute before the sailor came back out of the captain's quarters.

"Morning, Air Mage. I was told to get a list of goods from you." He said with a bow and the placing of a charcoal pen against paper.

"Wooden circles, like those from the bottoms of barrels. Leather straps, at least thirty or so. A good pillow and blanket for myself."

A few scratches and another Fairy was called forward from the workers buzzing about.

"Can I look around the ship? Around the larger mast, specifically." Jeff asked the sailor as he handed off the list. "I'll need to get a general idea of where to place things."

A simple nod was all he got for an answer before the Fairy walked off towards another task. Left to his musings, the lightning mage went up the ladder for the mast. Heights were no issue for someone with the wind element and the construction was surprisingly generous to his size. Not made for humans as evidenced by the odd half steps he had to make, but a bit bigger than what he thought Faeries would require.

For someone who had made crafts with singular enchantments, his mind was struggling to account for all the variables. The wind tunnel to bring in air would need to be fastened along the back of the pole to prevent the sails from knocking off the crafts while still allowing the scout to move upward. A blast of salty sea air blew over him, reminding Jeff of the need for sturdy bracing. His gaze turned to the wide canvas of white sails around him. A moment of figuring out how to account for their movement in the bubble ended with him cursing his stupidity.

The air wasn't going to be moving, so having the sails up was pointless. Here, halfway up a giant wooden pole, Jeff felt like he was beginning to understand just some of the ability that went into Eli's workings. A dozen different details started coming into focus, presenting many, many days of mental agony ahead.

He shuffled back down onto the deck with a slightly dampened spirit. On the front end of the ship was a wide double door heading below deck. None begrudged his walk forward to the stairwell below. It was a head too short for him, forcing him to a near crouch.

The belly of the ship had the same wooden cave aspect of the captain's quarters, sporting barely any light from outside and a fresh moistness closer to a forest than the sea. It was a wide room with long, tightly fastened stacks of arrows and spears in the middle, ready to be put to their deadly use. What he paid the most attention to was row after row of closed window slabs along the sides, and to Jeff's great relief, long oars stored against the wall. When he turned to go back up, the sailor from earlier was standing at attention.

"Your accommodations are ready. It is a storage area that has been refitted for your comfort."

Jeff only nodded, following him down the next turn in the stairwell below deck. Here a few slits in the walls provided some light, though it still required some squinting on Jeff's part to see the rows of stacked hammocks. His guide, being closer to the steps, was more easily seen as he took to the right.

"We keep a room for extra spears in the back here." He intoned with an opening of the door flooding the room with light from a mana lamp near the entrance.

Jeff looked inside to see a longer room that did indeed look perfect for storing stacks of long poles. Just wide enough to fit the meager-looking bed near the back yet the ceiling was a bit higher in this nook and held the prospect of a straight spine when standing.

"It's good." He offered, placing the bag on the left side of the room. The lightning mage was so consumed with the tasks and measurements ahead of him that he didn't realize that the bag was still in the captain's quarters and his hands idly slid nothing into the corner before he turned back up the stairs.

A few hours of looking over the decks and all its various outer corners produced a mental vision of the needed components. Jeff stood near the backside of the ship, the soft harbor waves doing nothing to aid him in getting a general idea of how far the air manipulation would need to reach into the sea. The mental work was interrupted when a small team of Faeries brought on large sacks and carts of various goods. One held a stack of leather straps, marking the true start of Jeff's toil.

"Air mage!" The captain yelled out on Jeff's left, those pink eyes perusing the deck for his guest.

"Hello," Jeff responded mildly. Despite his best efforts, the captain still jerked upward in surprise. That lasted for only a second before composure was restored with a small cough.

"Winds call for our sail and the needed items have been procured. With your say, we will depart."

The lightning mage raised a grey eyebrow.

"I didn't think I was in charge."

Blue-robed shoulders shrugged.

"If you put our lives in danger, the cap compels me to correct your decisions. As always, it is the one with the coin purse who sets the terms and it is the Ambassador's office whose pockets we're reaching into. He said to aid you in any way I can. No finding room for cargo, stringent deadlines, or wrangling with different port authorities. A captain's dream save for a bit of sneakiness. Farave wants to keep things in the dark part of the cave, so I've had to hide your goods with other junk to make it look like a regular shipping run."

"Performing air magic on the ship while in port would probably draw eyes as well."

"If my vision of your tests is correct, then yes, having smoke pooling around an invisible barrier surrounding my girl is inadvisable. Don't worry about getting new supplies, my order was for thrice more than what you specified."

That wasn't needed, since all the crafts could have their enchantments destroyed and reused without affecting the wood itself, but the merchant had already been given his coin.

"What else is left?" Jeff asked with a look at the Faeries unloading the carts of goods.

"A few more minutes of unloading then we're off. When we're out on the sea, you'll not find much room with the sails being worked." The captain put in politely. A slight rubbing of his right finger against the blue robe gave the impression of nervousness. Whether at the voyage or telling a mage what to do, Jeff couldn't guess. A stiff breeze of only slightly chilled sea air blew through the deck as Jeff nodded.

"A word of warning, the enchantments will block all of the wind. I hope those oars are strong enough to move the ship along."

"The small rivers we're looking at won't be too strong. Some hands-on oars will do fine." Was all the captain said before walking forward to bark some instructions at his crew.

Now alone, Jeff stole below deck to lounge on the meager bed. A few hours passed before a sharp, acidic smell drove him out of the small abode. In the middle of the bunks was a large pot with a faint few candles around two large tables. A burly Fairy with a yellow sash around his forehead stood over a pot, stirring the contents with a large spoon.

Coming up to a line of the crowd waiting on the left to get a meal, the lightning mage had a hard time deciding what the acidic smell was from even as some lizard part of his brain said there was food near. It took him getting nearly up to the serving table with bowls and mugs to realize there was no fire beneath the pot.

Getting his dinnerware took a bit as he had to figure out how to grip the mug with a too-small handle, though the quick hands of the chef dispensing the meal promised a quick pass-through, which came nearly as quickly as he could walk forward. Into his bowl was poured a ladles worth of wet fish and some assorted vegetables. The sharp sting wafting up told him this was the source of the aroma.

"Ah, the human mage." The server noted, putting his ladle back into the pot and retrieving more of the odd....Soup?

A slight growl came from Jeff's left, which drew the chef's eyes with the same anger one would find in a mother looking to punish one of her brood.

"Don't huff and sigh. Especially around the pot. Maybe grow a head taller and learn some magic then you'll need the bigger portions."

Jeff only stared at the server, waiting for the added contents to be dispensed before walking to the next table where his mug was filled with water. A quick retreat back to the room was a bit difficult as he had to lay his bowl on the floor to open the door, but he found himself inside and on the bed in short order.

A look at what could potentially be a consistent meal for the next few weeks left more questions than answers. The fish had the grey of having been baked, yet the typical streaks of black from a flame couldn't be found on any of the meat even when the vegetables bore such scars. A tentative bite left his tongue feeling like the food was properly cooked even without the omnipresent taste of flame. The meal was good and, without the need to get it in his stomach as quickly as possible, slowly savored to help him parse its exotic nature.

It was a routine that became pretty standard over the next day and a half of travel. The Faeries could make standard meals but with vegetables of purple flesh or these odd white grains that had a nice chew even when soaked in a spicy sauce. These meals, an occasional look over the supplies, and the constant song of conversing Faeries going on around him provided a decent shield against boredom, though they couldn't compare to the distraction Pache offered.

Not that he would be inclined to accept such offers from the sharp-teethed passengers traveling with him.

When the sun was coming off its peak on the second day, Jeff finally came above deck to see something that wasn't more endless waves beyond the wooden abode. The right side of the ship allowed the clearest view of an endless yellow fog in the distance. Occasionally a strong breeze would leave a thin spot to reveal large white mushrooms seemingly hiding among the clouds of death. Distance made it hard to judge their size but Jeff's guess was they stood near eight or even nine feet tall. As interesting as the sight was, it didn't seem to interest the Faeries nor was the apparent destination in sight.

After a few minutes, black streaks of smoke began mixing with the mushroom spores before wafting into the higher clouds. This seemingly prompted the captain to send a messenger to retrieve their precious mage. When Jeff came through the door, the captain was rubbing his hands across the sponge on top of the stone pillar on the right of his room, glistening his arms in the water coming out of it.

"We've arrived. These sections have some metal trees that spew flame. They keep predators at bay and can provide a relatively safe section of river for any future traders." He announced before sitting back in his chair behind the purple wood desk.

"Metal trees?" Jeff asked with wide eyes.

A small smile broke over the Faerie's wide jaw.

"They're actually worms, from what I've heard. I wouldn't advise trying to get a look. I haven't seen them before, but I have helped clean up the aftermath of people who intruded on their territory."

"Not friendly worms, then." The lightning mage offered with a small smile, his mind perusing the memory of his time at Mole Hill and its end at the mouth of the Devourer.

"The shreds of flesh I picked up in a sack didn't seem to feel particularly welcome."

The involuntary gulp from Jeff didn't slow the captain down.

"That is for souls more adventurous than us, however. Our travels will take us around the river near them." He offered with a lean against the desk. "We don't have very detailed maps of the murderous lands. Enten guides are used by small groups looking to get around blockades or find their way home from a ship that crashed along these shores. Such routes are entirely useless for our aims here. The metal trees have many patches we'll be looking into, but that will have to wait until our protections are in place." A pointed look made the meaning clear, even if ordering around a mage wasn't a step the captain was willing to officially take.

"Time to earn my future coin," Jeff stated with a small bow.

The next few hours were spent placing barrel lids around the larger mast, fastened with leather straps and rope tied with the immaculate knots that seemed to mark the sailors of all species. White sails were put to rest while oars plunged into the sea, waiting for the word. Jeff paid no attention to the fact that the entire crew had overestimated the speed of enchantment. Two hours of tracing shapes and lines of mana crafts to deliver the blue fuel along the boards passed to a deck full of grey figures squirming in anticipation.

While getting the air tunnel in place took the most time and precision, it was the main bubble that promised the most trouble. There were hundreds of ways moving so much air around other air crafts could go wrong, in ways seen and hidden. Jeff still sportingly put in the enchantment along the wooden bow and keel. The captain interrupted with wide eyes and bitten lips at seeing the mage mark his beloved ship with a test of blown air from a simple enchantment along the front. Despite the lightning mage's assurances that essentially turning the vessel into a giant craft would do it no harm, the captain still looked a little sick in his retreat.

Large mana batteries were placed near the front and back to suck in and form mana crystals for sustained fuel in the future. The largest manipulation triangles were eventually put in place, leaving the semi-final task of setting in the air circulation vents. These were placed on boards nailed around windows along the lowest decks. This all lead to the placement of the two largest pieces. The front and back air manipulation enchantments would cover their respective sides while leaving a hole for the vents, with the middle between them being defined around the edges of the highest barrel lid made into a legendary magic tool on the mast.

It wasn't going to work. Jeff knew in his soul that having this many pieces functioning in tandem was something beyond his ability to get right on the first try. The reach of his hopes extended to not accidentally killing the entire crew. Still, when the torches were lit, he pressed the starting square near the front with an eager look.

A few minutes passed with no disaster or miracle.

"Ah!" One of the Faeries yelled with a grey finger pointed upward.

There was a small cloud of black smog pooling into a half-ball near the bare front mast. Jeff had the advantage of having made the air construct and the accompanying mental image of what it should look like. Puffs of pitch went three different ways: falling back onto the deck in specks, going beyond the unseen barrier only to get sucked down by the intake tunnel to blow across the feet of the crew, or the last path which was the most important.

Ashen cloud came up to designated the barrel lid and kept going. It floated a good foot before stopping around an invisible wall and going into a hole around the size of the wooden disk below. Jeff couldn't say he was surprised, given all the factors involved. A dull ache set in despite his previous dispensing of hope.

"Does that mean it didn't work?" One of the onlooking sailors sang at him.

Muted discomfort became sharp agony as Jeff forced out the words best left unspoken.

"Yes." He stated.

Another of the sailors elbowed their inconsiderate companion. Jeff's brown eyes looked around to see what he took to be relief in some of the Faerie's eyes. They were getting paid by the day, and if that coin was earned idling around on the ship instead of working cargo or going through deadly fog…. Well, they seemed content to wait on the illustrious mastery of their magical better.

The lightning mage took a deep sigh. It was the first setback of what he suspected to be an avalanche of failures. With resignation in his heart, he set about to redo the craft again.