Shale stood upon the stern of The Wind Chaser, watching as Silverwood grew smaller and smaller. Soon, the monastery became so tiny that she could blot it out with her thumb held out in front of her. As the landscape opened up, she saw the entirety of Silverwood Forest. Beyond that, Cemar Road wound through the hills and beyond those were the towering mountains of West Yern.

It was strange to see it laid out like that, as part of one landmass, like a painting. All her memories came from within the boundaries of that canvas. She'd always known her life was just a portion of a much wider world, but seeing it like this was still striking.

Even though there was a chance she might never see Silverwood again, might never smell the forest, or read her favourite library books, or speak to her fellow juniors, she could live with that. If it meant saying good riddance to the bad things, it was worth leaving the good things behind.

Life, she reflected, was peculiar. It consisted mostly of routine for most people, with each day being almost identical to the last. It could go on like that for years at a time, then, all at once, came the moments of transition, where everything changed. Those were the moments where stories came from. Now this was her moment of transition. This was her time when everything around her was changing. It was time for her story.

The deck behind her creaked.

When she turned, she saw Karlar approaching. He looked different. The Eloronian no longer wore the threadbare roughspun cloak he'd donned back at the inn. It was replaced by a flowing cloak of bright green silk, embroidered by eleven golden figures which depicted the Hekkari Gods. Love of Bragan, he was wearing a kaelvi.

"You are no Soulbonder," Shale said, mouth falling open.

Smiling, he lay his hands upon the railing and stood next to her. She was struck by a thought. It was a strange one to have about a man more than twice her age, but she thought he was beautiful. Not exactly handsome, not conventionally attractive in the way of a Mastari Farin Dartor. No, this man was more like a smooth sculpture, cut from marble and brought to life.

"No. I am not a Soulbonder, Mistress Shale."

"You are a servant of the Hekkari."

"I have served the Eleven since I was a boy."

"You're a Stargazer."

"Correct."

This, more than anything, made her feel like she was living through a story. In many modern tales, Stargazers commonly appeared at the beginning, to foretell of great doom.

"But shouldn't you be in Starstone, staring through the Skysphere to see the patterns of the future? What are you doing with people like... us?"

"I assume you're familiar with The Awakening? It was a reading taken by the Stargazer Order five years ago, that saw an unnatural war coming to our realm."

"Yes. I'm familiar with it." Although she'd never heard it referred to as that name, how could she forget? That was the very reading that caused her best friend to be taken away. Everything had changed after that. The monastery had somehow found a way to become even duller and she'd become lonelier. The worst thing was, thus far, it'd been all for nothing. No unnatural war had come.

But then again, she'd seen the unnatural things in their realm with her own eyes. So maybe there was credibility to the reading.

"And did you know that the Stargazer Order predates the Hekkari?"

"What?"

"Oh yes. In older times, when magical folk were as common as sheep, the Stargazers were advisers and followers of great people. We belonged to no religion. We had our own guild and institutions in the Quivering Mountains. During the Fractured Age, we stood on both sides of the conflict, before collectively agreeing to align with the Hekkari. Before all that, our aim was to seek out the people we believed would be at the forefront of history and offer them our services. Usually to document their lives."

"And you believe my uncle is such a man?"

"He is the gatherer of the last remnants of a magical race. Already he aligns himself against the oldest enemy known to man. Yes, I believe that your uncle has a decisive role to play in these uncertain times. You will see for yourself when you meet the Dragonbonder. He has a certain gravitas that is difficult to ignore."

Shale gripped the railing so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Had she just heard that correctly? Had Karlar just referred to her uncle as a Dragonbonder?

"I can see your mind is a stew of questions, Mistress Shale. Truly, I can't imagine your position. I've had the benefit of learning of these things incrementally, while you've had them dumped on your head all at once."

"It's been a lot to process," she admitted, "And I still have so many questions."

"Well, why don't you come down to our cabin where we can answer some of those questions?"

"Perhaps." She leaned back, supporting her weight on the railing as she gazed at the sky. It was full of clouds, fluffy and cascading, lined silver by the sunlight. The gulls danced, weaving in and out of them. Inhaling, she tasted the salt of the sea, sharper and fresher than she'd ever known it before. She could see why poets romanticised it. Out here one could get an inkling of the true vastness of the world. "It's such a fine day though. Why don't Ezil and Bandor come up here instead?"

"Because," Karlar said, leaning in to whisper, "Some crewmen are more interested in your uncle's coin than his cause, and certain subjects are not fit to be discussed outside our private quarters."

Around them, the deckhands were busying themselves with the rigging and sails, but some stole glances their way. The crew were a friendly bunch, she'd gathered, based on the ones she'd spoken to thus far, but it was plain they were curious.

Who wouldn't wonder why two Orian children and a Stargazer had hired out a ship, to sail to a small town on the coast of Yern, to collect a seemingly innocuous girl? It was evident that they were unaware of Soulbonders, Shaedri, and all such unnatural things.

Shale would be careful to keep it that way. "Alright. Let's go down."

Karlar let go of the railing and led the way. They descended from the deck, down the stairs, into the body of the hull. They passed several cabins on their way to a narrow door situated on the starboard side. Then, the Stargazer knocked on it in their agreed-upon pattern of two fast knocks, three slow knocks, three fast knocks, and two medium knocks.

From the other side came the sound of footsteps and the latch, then the door swung open.

The room within was cramped and dark. It held little in the way of furniture besides a few flimsy hammocks attached to the ceiling beams. The only window was a small circular hole which let in a thin beam of grey light.