Touch of Fate

Chapter 298: Island in the Sky

"Ugh, I've forgotten how boring sailing can be. Why aren't we there yet?" Sera complained as she collapsed on the deck of the ship. They'd been out to sea for the better part of a week, and weren't even halfway there yet.

"You know, I did have a faster means of travel available." Mike commented from where he was sitting, not bothering to look up from his work. He was in the middle of carving a piece of driftwood into the shape of a small turtle.

"Don't remind me!" The Oracle shot back while childishly kicking her arms and legs up into the air in a fit of emotion. "Besides, I'd rather suffer through weeks of boredom than get on one of your flying deathtraps."

"Come on, it's not that bad. Right, Tal?"

The elf gave him an unreadable look before returning to the book she'd scavenged from the cabin's study. "No comment."

The three of them were occupying a space on the ship's foredeck, out of the way of most of the sailors that went about the business of keeping the vessel moving. It had rained for most of the journey, forcing the party to spend nearly all of their time inside their cabins, when not in the demi-realm, and the resulting dreariness had been dampening their morale. Thankfully, that weather pattern had come to an end, and they were able to get out and enjoy a bit of sunlight on deck.

"Look, I know flying is a bit scar-" He started before Sera cut him off.

"Flying is not the problem! It's how fast you end up going at that make the process terrifying."

"Well, if we want to get where we are going before the summon dissipates, we need to move quickly." He shot back, a little irritated. While he didn't mind taking his time on traveling, especially considering the number of things he needed to work on, he was getting tired of hearing her complain about it. "If the boredom really bothers you, I can have us in the Riverlands in a matter of hours."

Sera frowned for a second, as if considering the idea, before shaking her head. "No thanks. I'd rather suffer boredom than risk death just to save a few days of travel time."

"Fine! Then stop whining about it!"

"But it's taking so long!"

Relying on his enhanced Willpower to resist the urge to strangle the infuriating girl, Mike took a couple of deep breaths before resolving to ignore her. Once he felt reasonably calm, he went back to his carving.

"What doing?" Tal asked in the common tongue, perhaps as a means of distracting both parties from the argument they were fixing to get into.

"I'm trying to make a wooden sculpture of a turtle to serve as the base for my Transmutation practice."

"That's supposed to be a turtle?" Sera asked while rolling over to give it a better looked, "I thought you were making a horse with an unusually large saddle on its back."

"That's its shell!"

"What are those fiddly bits hanging of the sides? Hair?"

"Legs!"

She snickered. "Well, it's good to know that you aren't perfect at everything."

"Look, I haven't gotten a carving skill yet, so I'm basically an amateur. Give me a few days of practice, and I'll be making works of art. Just you wait." Mike grumbled in defense of his creation. It was a little amateurish, to be honest, but he didn't think it looked too bad. probably.

Once again playing the roll of the peacemaker, Tal asked. "Why turtle?"

Taking another deep breath to calm down, he explained. "According to my reference books, Transmutation is more dependent on imagination than other forms of crafting skills. Because you are essentially infusing the normal runes into the object directly without writing them out, it becomes necessary to have a strong image of what you are attempting to create. They recommend that beginners start with items which strongly relate to the intended effect, to better facilitate the imaginative process."

"So, you are making it a turtle because you want to enchant it with defense?" Sera asked, sounding mildly intrigued. "Do you associate turtles with protection or something?"

"Well, of course. They carry around a natural suit of armor. Why? What do you two associate them with."

"Slowness." Came Tal's quick reply.

"Helplessness, since most of them can't do anything when they're on their backs." Sera added with a mischievous grin, obviously messing with him now.

"Whatever! It's my creation, so I'm going to do it how I want it."

He must have spoken a little too loudly, since the water to the left of their position burst into a spray of droplets that quickly left them soaked. A large serpentine head looked down on them with something that might have been concern or maybe hunger. It was hard to tell.

"It's alright." Mike reassured the Sea Serpent. "Nothing's going on, we were just having a bit of an argument."

The creature stared at them for a few more seconds, before once again dipping back beneath the water.

Sera watched the creature go, before asking, "Didn't you say that thing was supposed to be temporary? Why is it still following the ship?"

"How should I know? I'm pretty sure I only used a basic summoning spell to bring it into existence, but for some reason it seems to have fully manifested as a living creature. Every other time I used that particular method, they only lasted for a half hour at most."

The serpent was something of a mystery to him. As far as he could tell, it had become a real being, much like Red, but without the intense mana requirements that the dragon had needed to maintain himself. The only possibility that made any sense, was that at some point it must have gotten hold of a mana source powerful enough to sustain itself. If he could figure out what that might be, it would go a long way towards improving his dragon creation methods, which were still in the developmental stages.

Of course, Sea Serpents were unusual among draconic beings for only having slightly more intelligence than most animals, making questioning the one accompanying the Huntsman fairly difficult. So far, Mike hadn't had any luck in solving the mystery.

"Not sure why you are complaining." Morris broke in as he walked up to join them. "I think it's been eating the monsters that would have otherwise been harassing us."

"Now that you mention it, we haven't been attacked once since we started out. With Mike's luck, I'm surprised we haven't been swarmed by vengeful fishmen or something." Sera replied lazily. She'd yet to get up from the deck of the ship, and was now apparently basking in the early afternoon sun.

Mike chose to ignore her comment, mostly because he kind of agreed with it.

The bard grinned, "I was talking to the crew, and apparently they think of Shipwrecker as something like a guardian spirit. Ever since the night they were rescued, it's has been following along and protecting them from harm."

Mike was in the middle of carving the turtle's slightly lopsided head, but had to put his tools down for a second to comment. "Please tell me that they aren't calling it that."

Chuckling, Morris nodded. "Unfortunately, it's true. The ship's mate said that, as soon as you left for the city, your serpent friend headed over and began wreaking havoc in the Tenundian fleet. It apparently figured out that putting a large hole in the bottom of their ships was an effective means of disabling the enemy, and he estimated that it had sunk more than twenty before the Tenundians finally gave up on chasing the Huntsman. This of course inspired the name."

"Ughwell, I suppose it could be worse. At least they didn't try to call it Fluffy or something. Anyway, was there anything you needed?"

The older man shook his head. "Nah, just getting some air. I've been cooped up too long, so I figured I needed a break."

"Any luck?"

"So far, I haven't learned much about the Sable Enchantress that we don't already know. It seems that details about her are scarce, especially since she really hasn't taken on center stage in any major political dramas. About the only thing of use I've been able to determine, is that she's probably an elf of some kind."

Mike paused to consider that. "Because of her lifespan?"

"More or less. It's just my theory, mind you, but after sorting through the majority of the books I'd brought with me, I've been seeing a pattern. For a few hundred years prior to the enchantress's appearance, that region of the Riverlands suffered from a series of mysterious disappearances. People, mainly loggers, hunters and other individuals who frequented the region's forests, would vanish without a trace."

"Are you suggesting that she's been kidnapping people for hundreds of years?"

Morris shrugged. "Hard to say, but it never became that big of deal since, as far as I can tell, the missing people showed up again in good health after a few weeks. They usually had no memory of what happened, but a few mentioned meetings with a 'raven-haired beauty' in the woods, who invited them back to her mansion."

"Same person?" Tal asked curiously. "Black hair. Star elf?"

"That was my thought. Of course, as a master illusionist, it's entirely possible that she was disguised. Needless to say, I wasn't the first to make the connection between the strange abductions and the emergence of a Tier 4 mage specializing in mental magi in roughly the same area, but even then, it was only casually suggested by historians from outside the Riverlands. Native writers studiously avoid mentioning the first, and only sing the praises of the second, which leads me to believe that she's been influencing the academic field for quite some time to keep her true identity hidden."

"And since she's been operating this long, she's probably not a human." Mike commented absently as he studied his carving again.

"Usually, without the Lifespan increases provided by increasing in Tiers, humans have a hard time living past a hundred. Other races, and elves especially, are a different in that they age much slower. I've even heard that they are technically immortal, so long as they avoid a violent death." The bard explained while looking over to Tal for confirmation on that last statement.

Tal shrugged. "Elves" She frowned for a few seconds then looked over at Mike and continued in the ancient tongue. "It is hard to explain properly. Most elves don't exactly have a set lifespan. Once they reach maturity, they cease to age, and instead gradually become detached from the world until they no longer have the will to take care of themselves. This is a process that usually takes centuries to occur, but varies from person to person. There are a few remarkable individuals who have managed to maintain their sanity for multiple millennia, but the vast majority of my race can expect to pass on after several hundred years."

"That would make sense based on what I've heard." Morris said after Mike had relayed the information. "If she had a few hundred years to prepare, there's no telling just how far her influence has sprea-"

"Oh! Look at that!" Sera exclaimed suddenly, pointing at something up in air. She'd been laying on her back and lazily staring up at the sky for most of the conversation.

Mike followed her gaze. Something massive was slowly emerging from a bank of clouds. For a second, he thought it was a distant mountain, until he realized that they were still in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight.

They watched in awe for a few minutes as the full structure came into view. It resembled a vaguely circular floating island, roughly twenty kilometers in diameter, that had been separated from the earth in some terrific cataclysm, leaving its underside jagged and torn. A giant, crystalline spike extended from the center of its mass, and Mike thought he could detect a faint hum coming from it, even though it must be a few dozen kilometers away. Its northern edge had a single waterfall that fell towards the sea, dissipating into spray long before it reached the surface. On its upper surface, he could see a jagged mountain range intermingled with some regular patterns that suggested artificial constructions or buildings.

[Well, I'm definitely in a fantasy setting.] Mike thought as he watched the island float through the sky with a regal pace.

"Wow, I haven't seen the Asan since I was a child." Morris commented with a grin. "Forgot how much of an impressive sight it is."

"The Asan?" Mike prompted.

"Ah, right." The Bard replied, before going into lecture mode. "The Asan, also known as the Wandering Island, is the largest known flying structure in the world. It seemingly follows a random pattern of movement over the Inland Sea, and for some reason rarely travels over major land masses. So, it's usually only ever spotted by sailors and inhabitants of coastal regions."

"You forgot the Asani." Sera broke in.

"I was getting to that. Asan is the home of the Asani, a race of bird-like humanoids who remain isolated from the outside world. While they've occasionally been known to send a few representatives down to merchant vessels in order to engage in a bit of trade, I haven't heard of anyone who've visited the Asan, so there isn't much known about them."

"Let's see if I understand you correctly. They are a race, shrouded in mystery, who are inhabiting a mysterious floating island, and are mysteriously wandering about the region. That about right?" Mike summarized with a straight face, causing Sera to snicker.

"Well that's a bit oversimplified, but not exactly inaccurate." Morris replied with a slight cough. "Look, I'd like to give you more information than that, but I really don't know much about them."

"About to." Tal said. "Getting closer."

"It does appear to be coming this way." Sera murmured. "And is it just me or is it getting lower in the air too?"

"It's not just you," Morris answered, a hint of concern in his voice. "I think it's losing altitude."

Mike could tell that it was sinking rapidly, but not exactly falling. As best as he could figure, it was only a few hundred meters above the ocean, and that distance was shrinking rapidly.

"It looks like it's trying to touch down on the wat-" Morris started to say, but he was interrupted by a deafening crack.

As they watched, the crystalline spike on the underside of the island fractured, and nearly half of its length broke off. For a brief moment, the Asan seemed to hang in the air, before inexorably plummeting to the surface.