The Edge

[Pegasus]

5th Zi'da - 10pm

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The storm was going to break them apart, there was no doubting it. This wasn't a storm, it was boiling, rolling water, roaring thunder and lightning striking the water. As Padraig literally fought his way to the captain, one of the masts exploded above him, splinters of wood raining down on him and one of the smaller sails cascading down, flames engulfing it even as it landed on the deck next to him. Very quickly, this place was becoming a death trap and he got to see the bright white flare and then felt the wall of heat from the flames even as the rain lashed down on him.

"I haven't got time to look, damnit!" The captain yelled to Padraig and the look on his face told a lot. He was afraid. But even though he argued, he did look and then a frown creased his brow. He looked utterly confounded ~ he'd never seen anything like it. He looked at Padraig and he shook his head. Was this Professor a blessing or a curse? He really didn't know for sure. He questioned Padraig, firing questions at him, even as the ship lurched and heaved. It was so bad that even the most experienced of sailors was fighting nausea, vomiting and dizziness, making matters worse.

But the captain fired questions at him, and almost calmly grabbed Padraig and pulled him, hard, to one side. Just in time for a piece of falling mast to land where he'd been. It left a dent in the deck and would have almost certainly killed him. The captain looked around and made the quickest decision. "Tie fast to something and pray," he yelled, just so that Padraig could hear over the thunder and the sounds of the ship.

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - 11pm

It had been a nightmare.

Even the quickest route out of there, the one the captain had chosen to take, took a full break to exit whatever phenomena it was. The ship's mast had snapped in half, flames had engulfed the sails and there was not a single soul aboard who wasn't hurt, Padraig included. The first time, when the captain had called all hands because of the iceberg, it had been bits of furniture and equipment which had needed to be secured. Now, it was parts of the ship itself which fell, aflame. Lightning had charged the air and there were deep cuts, broken bones and all sorts to deal with. Navigating out, through the icebergs had been a whole new kind of terror and, if Padraig had ever wondered what it looked like when an iceberg literally exploded upon being struck by lightning, he wondered no more because he had seen it. That, of course, added shrapnel and shards of flying ice to the wound-causing effects.

Yet somehow, by some miracle, they made it out.

The ship was a wreck, barely limping out of there and the captain had proven why he was in charge when he and the navigator had taken control. So, they were once again on calm, clear waters. Now, bizarrely, although they knew what was literally feet behind them, they couldn't see it. The barrier, or whatever it was, seemed to be an almost illusion from this side. The waters were like black ice, still and calm and there was no sign of the death trap which was, now, just behind them.

"ALL HANDS ON MEDICAL CARE!" The captain called and there passed two breaks where people with broken arms tended to those with deep gashes, because the ones with broken bones were the ones the least injured. Infection would be a big issue, they all knew it. Thankfully, at least, Padraig had a lot of very good medical equipment. Not that it would do more than take a slight edge off - there were still edges and a lot of them.

6th Zi'da Arc 717 - 2am

By the time they had time to start repairing the ship, minimising the amount of people who died this trial, they had drifted a little, but not far on the sheen of the glass-like water. Then, it was all hands to get the ship repaired.

"So, here's the situation," the captain said to him and the man looked about as bad as he felt. He was battered and bruised with a long gash down one cheek, tightly bandaged ribs and a bandaged shoulder where he had dislocated his joint trying to hold on to the railing. "It's going to take us three full trials to fix this ship in any semblance of getting home." He tried not to sound like that was an impossible dream right now, but it was. They were going to die out here, he was more than moderately sure. "I can get us to that iceberg in the next two trials. But a strong breeze at this point and we're dead. So I'm going to take the three and get us there whole." He nodded his head. "I hope."

9th Zi'da Arc 717 - Dawn

And so, unless Padraig had any other ideas, there would follow three full trials of intense, painful work. They had to salvage whatever they could, even down to fabric for the sails, retrieving nails from bits of wreckage and so on. Sleep was in three and four break shifts and was fitful at best. For everyone. Which meant that by the time the ship was ready to move again, everyone was exhausted and in pain. Spare clothing, bedding and so on had been taken for repairs, furniture had been scavenged and broken down into new parts of the ship and everyone was hungry.

Perhaps the most unusual thing, though, was the dreams. Each fitful restless rest he'd had, Padraig had fallen into a deep sleep, dreams seeming to fall in on him. Every dream had the same theme. He was trapped, desperately trying to get out. Needing to get out, for whatever reason. The time he'd dreamed he was in a coffin and buried alive, he needed to breathe, the time he'd been in prison, needing to escape it had been to rescue someone or retrieve something. Locked in a room, tied to a chair. Whatever it was, he was where he was and he needed to get somewhere, to someone, for something... whatever it was. And with each dream he felt hopelessness falling in on him, pushing against him.

Holding him down. Every lid, rope, lock and chain which held him there was hopelessness.

And he might notice that, every time he woke he felt it. Oppressive, pushing down on him. A feeling of lethargy, exhaustion and despair. Every time he awoke it got worse.

And it wasn't just him. It was all of them. Movements became slower, impetus to do anything grew less and less. They were going to die here and they, increasingly, knew it.

[Padraig]

It had almost been too late by the time the captain had been willing to listen. Nearly too late in honesty, from the bit it had begun. But they'd gotten through the storm and back to safe waters intact. Barely There was no question that the man had saved Padraig's life when he'd yanked him out of the path of a mast that came crashinig down. But even then it hadn't been over. Not by a long shot. He wouldn't come out of it unscathed either. Knocked around, battered and beaten, rained down on by ice shards from bergs that had shattered as bolts of lightening struck them. As a scientist Padraig might've made for a fascinated outside observer. But as an unwilling participant, it was a terrifying ordeal.

He'd come away with a deep gash above one eyebrow where an ice shard had struck, barely missing an eye. A pulled ligament in one knee where he'd been thrown to the side and his leg had turned awkwardly as a result. Another knock on the head from something or other. A sprained wrist that he wasn't positive wasn't broken. And multiple scrapes, aches and bruises on top of it. Too many others had fared far worse than him.

Padraig's healing skills weren't anywhere near what they could be, but he lent a hand wherever he could in the aftermath. There was very little comfort to be had in knowing that his hunch had been right. He had medical supplies and plenty of them, including plenty of raft. And whatever was in the kit was made available to the captain and others. Once again, there was a great deal of regret and guilt for a sense of responsibility on his part. It was a scientific expedition after all, one that had been planned around his own findings. But more and more he'd begun to come to a disturbing conclusion. Something or someone didn't want them here.

It was religion, it was superstition, he ordinarily would have said. And those things had no real place in the study of science. Then again, he had the favor of several Immortals himself, and had their blessing. So it would take three trials to fix the ship, another two to reach their destination. What it would mean was they'd burn through more of their supplies. So while his carpentry skills were just barely passable, his skills with a bow were better. And he'd do what he could to bring down birds for their supper.

The waking misery was bad enough. The misery when he slept was even worse, though he wasn't really consciously aware of it until he woke again. He was exhausted when he woke, as if he hadn't slept at all. There was the ever present worry thanks to the link between himself and Faith that was missing. Then waking feeling trapped, as if he didn't just need to escape from any given thing, but then to get to someone or something. Her. But he wasn't the only one affected, and that made it worse. It was the crew, and he could only imagine that they were experiencing something similar.

Standing at the rail alone that even, he looked up at the stars and thought again, in fact muttered, "Someone doesn't want us here." And if that was true, if all these disasters and hardships and the feeling of hopelessness was due to any given Immortal, there were a handful of them that could be responsible. Why that was didn't seem to matter. Remembering back to Treid, Padraig remembered that moment that he'd emerged from a portal to find Xiur murdered. Eventually he'd been resurrected, but in that moment the whole area had been saturated with a feeling of hopelessness. But then with the resurrection, it was gone again.

"I'm not a religious man," he uttered, looking up at the stars. "I can't count the times I've prayed on one hand and have a few fingers left over. I don't even know if you're listening or if you can hear me out here." Xiur, that was. "But if you are, we could use a little help right now. I won't ask for myself. I'm the reason they're here and that some of them have been killed already. But if there's anything you could do. For them," he said. "They've got no hope left. And without it, I'm not sure that they'll survive long enough to get back home." And if it meant turning back for home instead of onward towards their destination? That was a sacrifice Padraig would make. One man's reputation wasn't worth the lives of the men and women on board.

[Pegasus]

9th Zi'da Arc 717 - 1 break after dawn

It had been a full break since he stood, tired and in pain and had prayed to Xiur. Exhaustion hit them all, they were slow, sluggish and despairing and it was dark, so very dark. Even though dawn had come, even the light of the sun did not seem to help, did not lift the spirits, as the skies were cloudy and overcast. The captain had moved over to stand next to him and, for a long moment or two he didn't say a word. The only sound he made was to let out a long, slow and shuddering out-breath and then he turned to look at Padraig.

"Let me check that wrist," he said, moving already to do so when he stopped, suddenly. Like he was frozen in place he stared at Padraig's hand and then slowly lifted his head to look at the the scholar with amazement in his eyes. What he was seeing wasn't evident until he asked, rather like he was asking a small child, "Is that XIur's metal?" He motioned, of course, to the ring Padraig wore which, in the gloomy light, glowed from within. Star metal, malorite. Whatever the scientific name for it was, it wasn't that they called it.

"VAMIS! VAMIS!!!," the captain called and the navigator came, moving more quickly than he'd moved in days. "Look! Look at that!"

Vamis looked and a grin lit his face. "There's an old legend you know," he said to Padraig with a glint in his eye, delight lifting his face and making him stand that bit straighter, taller. "About that metal. It's bad luck for a crew member to have it, but a passenger bringing it aboard? That's Xiur's promise that all will be well. And it glows in the dark, like the stars, to remind us." He laughed, suddenly and within a few bits Padraig had the strange (and not to mention, somewhat painful due to his injury) experience of a number of the crew wanting to come and make sure that this wasn't something made up by Vamis and the captain.

And, from that moment, things changed. They grew more energised, more hopeful and determined. Interestingly, perhaps, as the feeling during wakefulness left, so too did sleep become easier, more restful.

Superstitious lot, sailors.

11th Zi'da Arc 717 - Dawn

It was like another world.

The weather had cleared, the skies were bright. It was freezing cold, still, worse than that, but the change in attitude had meant a massive amount. The crew were injured, but they pulled together and every little victory was seen as a 'sign', reassurance that the Professor's wedding ring had saved them, somehow - that it represented Xiur's promise that all would be well.

And so, they worked. They continued to repair the ship as they sailed towards the iceberg and it grew larger and larger. As they got close to it, though Padraig saw that it was.. well, frankly, it was impossible. Because the iceberg itself soared up into the sky, huge and towering, yet as they drew closer, he could see that it was embedded in something. It was hard to make out but two things gave it away.

First, there was the way that the shadows worked, and the light. The light reflected off it in a strange way. Then, of course, the second thing was that they could see the water lapping against the base of the iceberg... and beyond. Like there was some kind of invisible barrier or something there. Except, as they got closer and with the use of a spyglass and so on, Padraig began to be able to make out details, and he came to an inescapable conclusion.

The iceberg was embedded in a massive wall. It seemed to be almost invisible that wall, from a distance, but as they got closer, the sunlight reflected to the naked eye, as well as Padraig had seen it through the spyglass. Now that was unusual in and of itself, however as they travelled towards it, Padraig saw that it stretched out as far as the eye, and spyglass, could see to the north and the south.

And also, up. He couldn't see where it ended in any direction.

It was sheer, or seemed to be, and reflective, which made it nearly invisible.

"We shouldn't get too close, but we can take a rowboat, if you'd like?" The captain said to him, a frown on his face. There was an area of the iceberg where they could land and he could look at it, if he so wanted. Assuming he did, he'd find that it wasn't reflective, exactly, it was like a wall of thick, thick glass. Through it? Beyond it? Well... there seemed to be shapes, maybe movement, but it was blurry in the extreme.

"You got a way of finding out how far this goes? In any direction?" The captain asked.

[Padraig]

There'd been no answer from Xiur so far as Padraig could tell, though truth be told he hadn't expected one. One didn't pray after all with the expectation of a favorable reply. At least not from his perspective. He wasn't even sure, out here in this place if any give Immortal could even hear them had they been listening. On the other hand he hadn't given up on a sneaking suspicion that any number of them were responsible for this. At any rate, if not for the extreme cold, the discomfort or the very real possibility that the disturbing dreams would only haunt him again, the scholar could have slept standing up. Right there at the ship's rail.

"It's nothing," he said when the captain joined him, and asked to see his wrist. He'd certainly fared much better than too many others on board. What he didn't expect however was the man's response when he complied by extending his left arm. Xiur's metal? "It's my wedding band," he said then conceded, "but I suppose it is. Malorite." the scientific name for the stuff at least. But yes, now he thought about it, he seemed to recall the connection. Before he could say or consider more, he was set upon by one crew member after another.

Superstition, he first thought when told the legend behind the metal. But then? Perhaps not after all. Had it been glowing all this time? He couldn't be sure, he'd barely taken his gloves off during the voyage. Maybe then, the more peaceful sleep that was to follow, or the raised spirits, were a psychological affect of believing. Or maybe, his prayer had been heard after all. Either way, Padraig was grateful. And so he thanked the Immortal.

Things were easier after that, if not any warmer. But as they grew nearer to the iceberg they'd been sailing towards for trials now, Padraig realized that it was more than just enormous. There probably wasn't any current, acceptable term that could accurately describe just how large it was. But it wasn't the only thing that left the scholar confounded. First, it wasn't a wandering iceberg like all the others they'd seen. It was held in place and at first he couldn't begin to guess what was responsible. But then upon examining it further, he began to pick up the shadow play and the movement of the waves rolling on the sea and around it. They were behaving, well, not unlike the crashing waves that had beaten against unseen barriers previously when they'd inadvertently wandered through one and into the storm.

Could they pass through this one? Or perhaps they could go around it? Picking up his spyglass he studied the nearly invisible thing. North, south, even up towards the sky and couldn't for the life of him see an end to it. Would he be able to with his telescope, assuming that it wasn't damaged? Surely, if he could use the thing to study objects that were deep in space, then it could find the ends or the top of this thing? He asked one of the crew members if he might grab another of his fellows, and see if they could bring the thing up on deck.

"A rowboat. Yes," he uttered when the captain asked. He couldn't take the telescope on such a small boat, but he'd be sure to use it when they returned to the ship. Once he got a closer look however, he remained as confounded as he had been before. "Look there," he said, pointing out the moving shapes beyond the surface. "There's something on the other side." Reaching out to touch the surface of the wall, he wondered if his hand would pass through, which meant that perhaps they also could. If not, was it like touching glass? Ice? Metal? Maybe energy.

"I haven't been able to see where the thing ends," he admitted. "Maybe with a telescope, but not with a spyglass. Not even up." But that realization, coupled with what little he'd observed, led him to a couple of...if not conclusions, then fairly good guesses. The wall probably wasn't flat, judging by what he could see of the surface, and through it. Curved at least from north to south. And upwards? Probably. Which raised the question, did it keep jutting upwards or did it eventually stop or curl over. Like a dome of some sort? And how high?

He'd already concluded from all of his observations that he'd been right. The world of Idalos was round. And this only served to solidify those beliefs. But there was more. Was it possible that this barrier rose so impossibly high that it was responsible for the second sun having stalled it's progress across the skies? Had it always been the case? Had this strange barrier always been here or was it new? Too many questions, many of which he believed he could begin to answer. If only he had the right equipment, a team of researchers to help him and plenty of each. As it was, he couldn't even be sure at this point if his telescope had been spared considering the way the ship had been knocked around, time and again.

[Pegasus]

Before

Malorite did, without a doubt, always glow. It was like it somehow had starlight captured in it. But Padraig Augustin was a scientist and that meant that he observed. It hadn't glowed this brightly in the time since he'd first seen it; it had never glowed this brightly. But it did now, like a beacon of star filled hope for those aboard and it was all they had needed. Whilst they were here, in this desolate place, it kept glowing like that. In the darkness of night, the tiny stars within it twinkled brightly and even in the brightest breaks of the trial, it glowed. It was noticeable, it was obvious and, probably much against his wishes, Padraig found that what it did was make him the focus of 'it's going to be alright. The Professor said so'.

Over the few trials that it took to get to the iceberg, people came up and spoke to him who had not done so before. They asked his advice on things completely unrelated to the journey (everything from relationships to medical care to child rearing to whether Faldrass was good as a resort) and they sought him out. Because, of course, he gave them hope and what would Xiur's metal do, if it didn't do that? As the wielder of it, the hope was focused on him; his mood, or his apparent mood was inexorably linked with theirs. If he was upbeat, positive and, most importantly, confident then they were.

It was exhausting.

11th Zi'da Arc 717 - Noon

Of course, part of what made their unspoken demands on him more difficult was the reality of a few simple facts. Padraig was cold, he was tired and he was hungry. Physical basic needs like comfort, food and sleep not being met had an impact on him, psychologically. His dreams were less intense than they had been, yet while the others reported that the bad dreams had gone, his had simply changed. He dreamed of having to hold back a tidal wave, of needing to keep a huge boat upright with one finger, impossible things, always. Incredible weights on him, in his dreams, pushing down and trying, always, to break him or squash him. That isn't to say that he didn't come through in the dreams, that he could not 'win' but what happened depended very much on his personal resilience and strength. Fundamentally, how those dreams played out was very much determined by how much he held on to hope himself.

Observations of the phenomena he was seeing, though, led him to a few initial observations. It was most certainly not a barrier they could pass through,just judging by how firmly held the iceberg was, yet he was right. It behaved (with all the information he had - which wasn't a lot) a lot like the other barrier they had passed through. Invisible, but with the waves lapping against it and so on. The first one, passed through in the middle of the night, had effectively negated magic and Immortal granted powers. Then, the second one had held within it a storm like none of them had ever seen and this one? Well who knew. But it explained, or it might, the iceberg's size. Held in place here, it had built up over time and Padraig would have to conclude that in terms of time, the best guess would be a lot.

The crew were happy to oblige and brought up the box with his telescope in it. He'd know, before they opened the lid, by both the state of the box itself and the sounds which came from it. The telescope was well wrapped, carefully and meticulously packed by someone who knew what it meant to him. Wrapped in thick cloth, held in place and wrapped again, it was as protected as it could be.

And it was in pieces.

Shattered glass all over the inside of the crate it came in, the instrument which had undoubtedly taken months to craft was battered in a way that was probably irreparable. Not a single lens was whole and undamaged. Those few which were not completely smashed were scratched, the metal bumped and dented. The crew watched him, watched his reactions carefully.

But he and the captain got in a rowboat, the only remaining one (and that had been patched up) and went over there. Where Padraig got to make more observations than perhaps he expected. Reaching out, he touched the wall, the invisible barrier and he felt it, physically felt it. It was there and touching it made every hair on his arm stand on end. It was like touching ice and metal and glass together, but also there was that feeling that he got when his hand strayed too close to Quattro, their four-tailed electrified-whiskered cat. And, even the glow on his wedding band faded.

It felt like he was falling, falling into it, maybe.

But then, he was cold and tired and hungry. It must be that, surely?

"I don't like it," the captain said. He then summed up exactly what the feeling was which had been plaguing Padraig. Maybe since he got aboard the boat, certainly since the dreams started. Here, it was stronger than anywhere. "It makes me feel like there's no point. Like the best thing to do would be to sit down and wait for death."

Hadn't that been what Katie said to him? The defier who had died when the ship hit the first iceberg? Maybe it affected mages more, or something. Either way, the captain looked at him, waiting to see what he wanted to do. As his mind raced, Padraig was coming to the most logical conclusions with the information he had this might well be the very thing that caused the 'wobble' of the second sun he had witnessed. The iceberg suggested it had been there a long, long time, and he was more than convinced that the world was round. But in truth, he was left with more questions, many more.

But then, that was to be expected on a first, information-gathering mission as this had been. Now, he knew what was roughly where, what was needed and what would be required in terms of resources and time. And the short answer to the 'how much' question in terms of those two? Well, the answer was a lot.

"Is that what we came to find?" The captain seemed somewhat hopeful, in truth. "Did we succeed?" He had no idea what it was, what was happening, but then he knew that would always be the case. The man who had remained steadfast throughout looked at Padraig with something akin to desperation in his eyes and asked again. "Did we do it?"

Because, as much as he knew now there would be observations to write and measurements to take and all that. If this was why they were here, then that meant that, when those observations and measurements were done, they could go home. But rather than ask that, he asked. "What now?"

[Padraig]

It seemed a little like the chicken and the egg, that ages old puzzle which was really more a riddle than a serious question. But in the case of Padraig's wedding ring, it seemed appropriate. Did the ring shine greater now than before as a result of his prayer to Xiur, therefore enabling the crew to draw hope from it? Or was it shining brighter as a result of the crew's belief, as if drawing strength from their collective state of being? Didn't matter he guessed. What worked worked and that was good enough. As a scientist though, he was curious.

There were more pressing things though to be curious about, and that's where his focus was needed. Little difficult, when every few bits one or another one of the crew was wanting a look at his hand and he was needing to pull off a glove in order to show them. As for advice for the lovelorn or other select topics, he felt as useful as as a hammer was for peeling an egg. And the hopeful and confident smile was becoming fixed on his face, and was beginning to smart.

It wasn't to say that he'd stopped sensing that something out in this place was working against him, all of them. The cold, the fitful dreams, the hunger, the utter misery of it all. But somehow, being convinced of it made it, if not easier, at least a problem with a solution. Mind over matter where even false smiles were more effective than giving in.

So what he realized was that this new barrier was the same, and yet very different than the ones they'd stumbled across before. Firstly, it was apparent that they couldn't pass through this one and back again. At least not without resources that they just didn't have at their disposal. And it was older than old. Ancient, or at least it seemed to be. Of course as a physicist he understood that things weren't always as they appeared. Old then was relative, but there were things happening here that also seemed to defy the laws of physics.

Electromagnetism, was his first thought when he placed his hand on the wall and felt the energy thrumming through him. Like negative and positive particles colliding and setting off tiny charges that in themselves could be holding this wall together. Was there a way to counter it? He couldn't be sure but what he did observe was that his ring grew dimmer in response to placing his hand on the wall. It convinced him all then, even as that heavy, hopeless feeling threatened to draw him in. Would it actually pull him in and through? It would be foolish, Padraig knew, to try it and be trapped on the other side while the rest of the crew remained without much hope of returning home intact.

"No, me neither," he said to the captain and pulled himself away from the wall. He didn't like it either, though in truth if he was alone and didn't have anyone back home to return to, he might have pressed on in the name of exploration and discovery. At least he knew that should he return again, and he resolved to, he'd need to be prepared better. The right equipment, a team, manpower...His telescope after all had been as good as destroyed over the course of the journey. It was almost as if that too had been arranged by some unseen power. Somehow after the storm, more than the iceberg he'd known it wouldn't survive.

It was a real and genuine loss. For more reasons than just a few and he'd had to employ a great deal of self-control when seeing the mess that had become of it, to show not much more than resignation but resolve. So ultimately? "Yes," he told the captain. "we did." Succeed, found what they were looking for. They'd done it. He made sure not to seem like it, but his feelings were mixed. In many ways he felt that his reason for being here hadn't fully been realized. And maybe that was the point behind the meddling of some unseen power.

But the distance he'd felt from Faith had never stopped haunting him and he knew if she felt it as well, she'd be going mad with worry. And he was worried for her as well. He needed to return home as soon as was possible. So what now? "Do you have someone on your crew that can draw? If I could enlist them to draw some sketches of all this," he said with a sweeping gesture towards the iceberg in comparison with the size of the ship, the wall, the arrangement and so on, "it would be helpful. And then?" he said with a smile. "We go home.

[Pegasus]

11th Zi'da Arc 717 - Noon

Captain Marson was not a man given to showing emotions, in many ways. He was the one who had to keep it together, after all, in order to be the one who the crew looked to. He'd nodded, getting as many drawings as the Professor needed would be no trouble at all he reassured him. But when Padraig said the words, we go home, the captain let out a long, shuddering sigh. "Thank all the Immortals. I don't know how much more any of us can take." He put a hand on Padraig's shoulder and smiled. "Your jaw must be aching, I know that."

Vamis,it turned out, was a damn fine artist and he was able, and happy, to provide whatever kind of sketches and drawings Padraig wanted. Technical, detailed, concept ~ he didn't mind. And when he found out that, after this, they went home? Well that was the best news he'd heard in some time.

Once they'd gotten everything that Padraig needed, Captain Marson decided to stay anchored the night here. That would mean that they were navigating around what they'd called the "storm barrier" in the daylight. That made the most sense to him and so that was what they did.

13th - 16th Zi'da Arc 717

Navigating the barrier was such a lot easier when one knew it was there and had navigated it before. The captain took every precaution and their progress was slow, through that area. He got crew members shooting arrows into the air and, when they disappeared rather than fell into the water, it gave them all a clear indication. Vamis took meticulous notes, drew detailed maps and charts. He had done so after their first journey through, but that had been from memory. Now he had the luxury of doing it as they were travelling and he was able to add details which he had not seen before.

It took them three trials to navigate it. They lost arrows by dozen, but every break that passed, every time that someone shot an arrow which disappeared and they avoided that carnage, spirits lifted. At night, they anchored rather than risk anything else.

Between the slow progress, the careful navigation and the very damaged ship, it was all taking a lot longer going back than it had getting there. But the crew's spirits were high, although "ask the Professor" seemed to be the go-to response to every question asked. And so, Padraig got to learn that sailors had rich and fulfilling lives filled with many and varied experiences. Oh, and very few boundaries. Relationships, medical issues, medical issues caused by relationships, family, friends, cooking, eating, bodily functions, gambling, fighting and even one chap who was interested in maybe doing some study at the university. All of them asked him, all of them expected him to know and, Immortals help him, all of them looked at him with hope in their eyes.

And that particular trend continued for the rest of the journey.

24th Zi'da Arc 717 - Midnight

It had taken such a long time to get to this point. They had limped along and it had been difficult. Food was scarce and by this point they were on rations. Birds shot down helped, fishing helped, but things were grim. They were approaching the iceberg where it had all begun, when he had woken up that night of the fifth. Twenty trials later, in the morning, they'd pass it again and then, of course, Padraig would have a choice. It was one that the captain had spoken to him about, just earlier that trial. He was another mouth to feed, the captain said. The crew were back to normal and, so long as the Professor was there to greet them when they came into port, there was no point him taking another ten trials to limp home. So, the captain had added, with a smile, if he could get himself home once his magic was working again, he should. Vamis had agreed, although he seemed somewhat dubious about the prospect.

However, that night, as Padraig stood on the deck and watched the stars as he was wont to do, one of the crew came up to him. Standing next to him, the man was tall, but well wrapped up against the cold. Dark skin, dark eyes, but more than that Padraig couldn't tell, although whilst he was sure he hadn't spoken to him the whole journey, the sailor still seemed familiar. "It was important to you?" He asked, looking up at the stars. "The telescope?" If it seemed like a strange question, well it didn't seem so to the one who asked it. Whatever Padraig's answer, though, he asked another.

"You study them? The stars." He gestured to the sky above them and, as he did, the scarf on his face fell, revealing just why it was familiar. "Was that before or after you stopped to help me when I was stabbed?" Looking at Padraig, Xiur smiled at him."You did good work here, Professor. Once you are past the icerberg, magic will return and you will be free to follow your heart." Immortal-granted bonds which needed to be given, one to the other, they would not work until gifted again, after all and the Immortal of Hope knew the sense of desperation and fear which resided here, and at his destination and yet, he knew too that hope had not extinguished. "I am pleased with you." The touch of his hand on Padraig's shoulder caused a sensation unlike any other to energise the young physicist. He would know, without a doubt, that he had been marked, changed in some way. His whole body reacted and then, the sensation focused on his damaged wrist and arm. There, a single glowing star shone.

But when he looked up, the man he was speaking to was gone, enveloped in the darkness.

25th Zi'da Arc 717 - Noon

He knew the moment it happened, of course, because the bands of Qylios began, once again, to glow on his arm. The captain, who he was standing with at the time, looking at the iceberg where it had all begun, glanced down at his arm and smiled, nodding his head. But he said no more, it was up to Padraig what he did.

Off Topic

And we're done! One more post from you, then review from me. If Padraig chooses to use his now functioning Portal Boots, then of course he arrives home immediately. If he chooses to stay with the crew, it will be another ten days from here. Either way, take us there in your final post. Awesome work! Lots of questions still to answer!

[Padraig]

Padraig couldn't have asked for a better helpmate than Vamis when it came to getting the drawings, diagrams and charts done. He was no artist himself, not by a long shot. In fact his handwriting, according to some was barely legible. It was a lot that he'd need, and was quick to point out that Vamis should sign his name to each of the drawings. They'd become part of a published paper and he'd be getting full credit for them. In fact if he ever wanted to make a living at it or just something on the side, his work was as good or better than some of the engineers off at the college in Scalvoris.

But while Vamis took care of the drawings, Padraig focused on his notes and observations until he had a good sized stack to take home in his leather bag. Just as well. His jaw was aching from the smiling facade he'd kept up, and he also knew that the crew must be growing impatient. Besides, the work he had left to do, he could do on the journey home. It was easier this time, considering they knew where the troublesome spots were now, and could navigate the way around them. It didn't stop the crew and their questions though, and Padraig wouldn't have dreamed of putting them off. Even if some of the topics were foreign to him, and some were just damned uncomfortable.

None of it stopped the voyage from being a miserable one though. It was still colder than was natural. Supplies were still scarce, in fact they grew scarcer every trial. He was a decent hand at shooting down birds and reeling them in if they fell into the sea. But he could only shoot so many. The bright spot though was that with each trial that passed, he was one trial closer to Faith. The captain was right however. He was one more mouth to feed and as soon as he was able, if the boots worked, he should return home on his own. There was nothing Padraig wanted more, except that until then he hadn't allowed himself to think about it. As long as he was needed, as long as they believed he was needed, he wasn't sure his conscience would allow it.

But the captain had put those concerns to rest. And of course he'd be there on the docks when the ship returned to port. There'd be another trial or two aboard however before that could happen, assuming the boots worked at all, and he'd spend the time looking up at the stars. There was something nice about doing it without a telescope or spyglass. It was a different perspective than a scientific one. More a romantic, wondering one, he guessed. Was Faith looking up at the same star he was? The night sky was timeless, too. How many men before him, how many centuries or millennia ago had looked up at the same star and wondered?

At first he didn't think anything about the sailor who'd come to stand at the rail. There were so many, even after so many were lost. But the look of him struck a chord of familiarity, and so did his voice. It would take a bit for Padraig to realize just why that was. "It was," he said when the man asked about the importance of his telescope. "It's a tool, certainly, and a gateway to something miraculous. And," he added with a sentimental edge to his voice, "Things like that can be replaced. But it was a gift from my wife."

He studied them, yes. But then he realized just how and why the man seemed familiar to him and he turned to fully face the Immortal who'd appeared at his side. Dipping his head in a show of respect, he said, "My apologies for not realizing sooner." The next question caught him unaware however and he tilted his head curiously. He'd never really thought about it, but he knew the answer. "It was after." Before then? Well he'd never really identified a specific area of physics that captured his interest the most. But then later, it was if it had come out of the blue. Maybe it hadn't, after all.

"Thank you," he said and dipped his head again when Xiur revealed he was pleased. And also for reassuring him that when it came to it, he'd have the means to return more quickly home to Faith. What he didn't anticipate however was how the Immortal's touch would affect him. The gift left behind was the last thing he'd expected or hoped for. The new sense of ease after all was something he'd be eternally grateful for. But in a flash he knew there was more, much more. But the Immortal was gone. Gone but not forgotten, and Padraig smiled, looking back at the stars. "Thank you," he said again. "I won't disappoint you."

He said nothing to anyone else about it. Even when the captain noticed it, Padraig only smiled which seemed to be confirmation enough. But the time had also come to go home. The sensation of those old connections returning was a heady one, and more of a relief than he could possibly put into words. Still, he'd taken the time to say his goodbyes and offer his most sincere thanks to each of the crew, down to the last one before pulling on those boots and making his way home.

Off Topic

Thanks for doing this, I had a blast!

[Pegasus]

The Review

Overview

Wow well done! This is very much the culmination of a lot of work on your part and Padraig's journey to the beginning of this thread has been great fun - in this thread you really did just roll with everything I threw at you, awesomely done. Fantastic writing and I am always just so impressed with how very human and vulnerable Pad is - you don't ever play him as someone who is untouchable and his emotions are always right there. Quietly, not making a fuss, but always there. I'm glad you enjoyed it - I very much did too, and I have to admit to my favourite part being the thought of all the burly sailors talking to him about stuff that would just make him cringe. Poor Padraig - tormented by the mod. If you've got any questions / comments or concerns, just drop me a pm.

Points

XP: 15
Fame: +30

Loot

Losses:
-1 telescope (please deduct from your ledger)
Gains:
Star charts & diagrams from the journey
Padraig has been marked with Xiur's blessing Nalos for being a beacon of hope in this thread. You have unlocked the following abilities:

Optimism	Add an extra three skill points to one of the following skills: Etiquette, Navigation, Psychology or Teaching. Any skill points granted by this Mark can break the 100 point cap on skills.
Flow of Morale	The Blessed is able to bring a brief surge of hopeful resolve to those around him. Within 10 feet, this lasts for eight bits; to 20 feet, it lasts for five bits; to 30 feet it lasts for two bits. At "Adored", double either the range or duration. At "Exalted", double both.
Calming Overcast	A tense situation suddenly undergoes a dusky graying light, and the attitudes of everyone within 50 feet are affected as if the current hostility instead happened the day before, and everyone has had the time to cool off.

He has also gained the following on his Xypha mark:

Emotional Palette

By using this ability, the Xypha takes on metaphorical coloured lenses. As they look over others in their immediate vicinity, the person takes on a shade of colour depending on their strongest emotion. For happiness, this is a yellow nimbus around them, anger is red vein-like streaks on their skin. Sadness is blue swirling clouds over their skin, envy is green ivy-like vines twirling the person's extremities. Those with this ability and Empathy are able to more easily identify the emotion, and often leads to easier manipulation of the emotions through Empathy.

Injuries

+1 cut over his eyebrow. Due to the lack of proper medical attention, by the time he gets home Padraig has a scar over his eyebrow. It will fade in time but will always be there and able to be seen with the naked eye.
+1 hairline fracture in his wrist. This has healed but, due to lack of proper medical care, it will always bother him a little. When he's cold, tired, run down, stressed, it aches. Oh, and when there's a storm coming.

Knowledge

Carpentry: Swinging a hammer
Carpentry: Measure and mark
Detection: Noting minute changes in environment
Discipline: Doing what you'd rather not, because it's what you should.
Discipline: Fighting hopelessness
Discipline: Enduring dreams of hopelessness constantly
Discipline: Not giving in to temptation
Endurance: Impossibly cold
Endurance: Trials of work in the impossibly cold
Endurance: Managing on basic, minimum rations
Endurance: Exhaustion
Endurance: Physical battering of a ship in a storm
Leadership: Being a beacon of hope
Leadership: Looking confident is at least as important as being confident.
Physics: Light pollution
Physics: Magic and Immortal Dampening Phenomena
Physics: Don't become a lightning rod
Physics: Using physics to avoid an iceberg
Physics: Invisible barriers can cause waves to be good indicators of something strange
Psychology: Despair is very difficult to fight.
Psychology: Hope is hard to find in the darkest times.
Psychology: People will place significance on superstitions
Ranged Combat: Bow: Attach fishing strings to arrows to pull in the catch
Ranged Combat: Bow: Shooting down birds
Research: The environment helps when researching stars
Research: Keeping meticulous notes of whatever you can.
Seafaring: Steering in an emergency
Seafaring: The use of oars to increase speed
Seafaring: Basic ships repairs
Strength: Helping out with odd jobs helps
Strength: Finding the strength to continue past your limit
Strength: Holding on for your life, literally Immortal Mark: Nalos: Flow of Morale
Immortal Mark: Nalos: Calming Overcast