Archive of Our Own

Elio

This is our ship.

That’s what Struan said, when he came home with me after school today so that I could show him all the other presents I got for my seventh-summer-day this morning. The ship was the one I liked the most, because Papa made it from a leftover piece of oak. I showed him the clothes Mama and Grandmama made for me, and the books that my big sister Sunniva bought me from the market too, and the good-season wishes. Then we shared all the sweets I got (including the ones he gave me), and then we went out to play, and that’s when he said it.

And I was confused, first, because it was my seventh-summer present, not his. But he laughed at me and shook his head:

“No, silly. I mean, the ship we’re going to have when we’re older! I bet it will look like this, so, it’s our ship!”

And then I understood, and we played at being explorers until Mama came to remind me it was time to go to the shrine and cast the good-season wishes into the sea or sky. I wanted Struan to come too, but Mama said no. He might be my best friend in all the world, but he’s not family yet. So I carried the ship with me instead. And I wasn’t nervous at all, even though the priest and apprentice fortune-bringers all looked a little scary and my best clothes still felt too stiff.

“And what are your wishes for adulthood, young man?”

“I’m going to marry Struan, and we’re going to sail the upper seas and lower skies together and explore them!”

Usually, grown-ups think that little kids (like they think I still am, even now I’ve reached my seventh summer) can’t possibly know how the rest of their lives will be. But I knew. I’ve always known, from even before I could talk that I would do these things. If I could marry Struan right now, I would, but Mama says that marrying’s something that only grown-ups do. I’m also excited to sail as a grown-up but I can kind of wait for that, because I have to have a real ship and not just a toy one, and learn to sail it and all that. And Papa had promised that I could begin learning from the day after my seventh-summer-day. So, from tomorrow.

So since I could talk, this is what I’ve always told the priest. But usually, I’d hide behind Mama’s skirt and whisper it into Papa’s or Sunniva’s ears. But this year felt different, not just because I was seven summers now but because I had the ship in my hands. So I stood up straight as I said this and stared right at the priest, and even though his eyes were still scary my hands didn’t even shake, not even a little bit.

“The upper seas and the lower skies? Most only stick to one.” One of the fortune-bringers commented. “Do you not know this, child?”

“Oh, he’s still young,” Mama said hurriedly. “He’ll understand soon enough.”

“Whichever one he chooses he is clever and healthy both. As long as that continues, we’ll be happy.” Papa added.

Sunniva didn’t say anything, but she just elbowed me and stuck her tongue out. I went red, and stared down at my toy ship. Because they were wrong, they had to be wrong. Me, Struan, whoever the rest of our crew was-we were going to sail both. The upper seas and the lower skies.

“Well, let us begin, and we shall see what his fortunes had to say.” The priest eventually said.

The lanterns were bought out, incense piled into them and lit, the usual chanting done. Then, I handed over the wishes I had got for this season-cycle, while Mama gave the ones that I’d had been given every season-cycle day since birth. They were passed through the flames of the ceremonial fire and as they did they lit up the deep purple of an evening sky.

“Favours the sky, so far.” I heard Mama mutter.

“Don’t speak too soon.” Papa cautioned, though with a smile in his voice

Once they were all glowing and gathered up again, the fortune bringers climbed up the rock face and stood at the uppermost ledge, facing the horizon line, and then they cast out the wishes. They sparkled and flashed as they swirled in the air, and we all held our breath. I think I held it in the hardest, clutching my ship to my chest. They swirled and swirled and then finally, some started to rise upwards…

…and at the same time, others started to sink.

I heard people murmuring and exclaiming, but I paid no attention to them. I watched as my wishes floated up into the sky and down into the sea, becoming incandescent and eventually fading. When they were all gone, everything seemed to explode into noise, but I just stood there, staring out at the horizon line where all my wishes had gone, smiling and holding my ship because I knew it. I knew it would be possible.

And now I was even more excited to become a grown-up, and make it all actually happen.

...

Orion

This is our ship.

I whipped around as I heard that, careful to keep my hands on the wheel.

“What was that?” I asked, thinking I heard it wrong.

“A ship like this would be perfect,” Elio said. “For us, I mean.”

He barely looked up from the map, one of many rolled into that stupid bag he was always carrying around. He did, however, gesture to Struan and Aster, the former of whom was grinning at me.

“What?” I rolled my eyes. “You can’t have the ship, it’s still my mother’s until it’s had enough practice runs.”

“Yeeeeeah, but if those two asked really, really nicely, your mother could keep it aside until they’ve saved up enough to pay for it. They are gonna be co-captains, after all.” Aster persisted.

“…”

“We’re gonna be sailing the upper seas and lower skies, right, Elio?” Struan said with a smile.

“Mhm.”

Elio still did not look up from his map, and I rolled my eyes. I’d been hearing these two go on about that for most of our school days so far. All the grown-ups had been in a flutter since Elio’s seventh-summer day, when his fortunes had not favoured the sea or the sky in particular, but both instead. But that was just grown-ups, being all superstitious. If they stopped to think they’d realise plenty of sea-favoured people had destinies connected to the sky instead. So it was kind of annoying.

“Whatever,” I scoffed. “I’m turning back now.”

“What?” Aster swooned dramatically. “Already?”

“Yes, already. Mother said I had to be back by sundown.”

Aster grinned at me, eyes sparkling behind his glasses. I had a feeling that I was not going to like whatever he was going to say next, but he didn’t get a chance to:

“We’re near a horizon line.”

As he said this, Elio finally looked up, and I gawped at him.

“What?”

He held up the map he was looking at.

“A horizon line. We’re near one.”

I looked out at the ocean and squinted. Sure enough, he was right. But the sun was also just beginning to set.

“Ah, come on, Orion!” Struan said, as if he was sensing my objection. “We can give it a try, right?”

He put his arms around Elio as he grinned at me. He didn’t look quite as teasing as Aster was, but I glared at him nonetheless.

“What are you getting at?”

“C’mon, haven’t you ever wanted to take a spin in the stars?” Aster said.

“What? No? This is sea practice!”

“The ship’s equipped for both.” Elio said quietly.

“ALL ships are equipped for both! It’s basic ship-building!”

“But it’s right there…..” Aster said. “Right there!! C’mon, live a little!”

“I don’t even know how to sky-sail!” I protested, throwing my hands up in the air.  “And I’m going to get into so much trouble if I’m not back by sundown!”

“Ah please, Orion?” Struan said. “It’s not like we have to go far or anything. Just sail up there, take a look, then come back down.”

“I can steer,” Elio said. “You take us up to the horizon line, then I can take over.”

As far as I knew, Elio hadn’t had any experience sailing in the upper seas either. I mean, I thought it was pretty stupid to think that you couldn’t learn to sail both but like, none of us had even reached our sixteenth season-cycle yet. It was hard to believe he could do it and yet…

Is it actually possible…?

“I so regret agreeing to let you guys come with me….but fine!”

Struan and Aster immediately burst out into rowdy cheers, but I just rolled my eyes. I really wished I had said no to them coming on board with me at all. I could have been home by now, drawing. But even as I turned to the wheel and began steering again, I felt my blood fizzing.

Gradually, the horizon line got closer, bright and glowing, and I heard Elio come up to me.

“Here, I’ll take over. Can you hold onto the map?”

He didn’t give me much chance to answer, and I scrambled to keep ahold of the map as he thrust it at me and then went to the wheel. He looked at the different levers next to and just below the wheel for a moment, but he didn’t seem like he was hesitating. Just considering. And sure enough, after a few moments he pulled a lever back slightly, making the ship wobble slightly. He pulled it back, and then the wobbling intensified.

“Um….mate, you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Elio ignored me, and pulled another lever. This made the ship lurch slightly and I flailed. Struan steadied me, and I glared at him as he took the map from my hands.

“How are you standing straight?”

“Well, that was a bit shakier than I expected, true- but look!”

“At what?”

Struan just gestured at the ship vaguely. I narrowed my eyes at him, but did look around. I couldn’t see anything, but at least we weren’t wobbling, so I decided to go and look over the edge of the ship. But just then, the ship lurched again, and I had to grip the edges.

That was when I realised that we were floating, and that we were getting higher. Turning back (while still holding on) to watch Elio, I watched him continue to adjust levers. I didn’t really have any idea what he was doing (I mean, why would I?) but somehow, it looked like he did. And the sailing had become smoother, and there was a soft humming in the air. And when I was finally able to look around properly, I saw that we were surrounded by fiery hues, and fragments of mist. No, not fragments of mist, but clouds. A flock of birds flew by, their wings creating elegant shapes against the sky as they moved. It was one thing seeing birds in the sky from the ground, or from a sea-ship, but up close like this? I lifted my hand out as if to touch them, found myself pretending to sketch their outlines instead.

I wanted to paint it, right here and now. But I didn’t want to take my eyes off of it either.

We kept going a little further, and the colours continued to shift and change. Here, I realised, colours were more than something seen, they were something felt. Silky, sparkly, deep, and rich. Even the pale colours of the clouds had depth to them, something to sink into. I wanted to wrap myself up in the colours, become one with them. I knew that painting the view of the sky around me would never do it justice, but I wanted to do it, more than anything. Sail the upper seas and lower skies both, just as they claimed it was possible to do.

“It’s cool, right?” Aster bragged.

“Yeah,” I admitted, a little grudgingly. “It is very cool.”

Cool enough that, even though I knew full well that my mother would be spitting mad already, I didn’t remind them that we needed to go back down soon. Instead, I remained where I was for as long as I could, until Elio suddenly turned the ship back around and began making our way back towards where we’d need to descend to the horizon point. The descent was bumpy again, bumpy enough that when we were back on the water I shoved Elio out of the way and took over the steering.

“We did it,” I heard Struan exclaim. “Well, you did, but we actually…we actually went up to the sky.”

“We did. And we’ll go there again, you and I.”

“Hey, you’re taking me with you!” Aster protested.

“Yes, we are, don’t worry, Aster!” Struan soothed, still full of laughter.

“Though, we do need to find a ship.”

“I’ll ask my mother about this one.” I found myself saying.

Immediately, all three of them came crowding around me, Aster getting right in my face.

“You will? Really? Really?” he asked, grinning.

“Not if you don’t get your stupid face out of the way.” I threatened.

Aster stuck his tongue out at me, but did step back, much to my relief. I glanced over at Struan and Elio, both of them backlit by the sunset, making their matching golden heads blaze bright. It was nothing compared to how they’d looked in that same light when we were in the sky though. I wondered what it would be like to sail at night, when the sky was pure velvet and the stars were visible.  I wanted to find out for myself, so badly.

“Would you really do that?” Elio asked. “Would you really let us have this ship?”

“Yes, but on one condition.”

I paused. We were getting close to the harbour now, and I could see adult figures waiting there. No doubt one of them was my mother, ready to lecture me. There was no way we hadn’t been noticed. But I thought of the brightness and texture of the colours, the humming of the air, the feeling of the wind. I imagined sailing through the sky at night, when the sky was pure velvet and the stars were visible. And suddenly, none of the consequences mattered. My decision was made, and so, I told them my one condition:

“That I get to come with you, too.”

…

Stelara

This is our ship.

That’s what I noticed first on the poster, I remember. There were countless posters advertising the need for a fortune-bringers for various ships, both for the sky and the sea. But all of them started with standard messages. Looking for fortune-bringers for new ship, Seeking fortune-bringers for the summer-that kind of thing.

But this poster, it had a lovely painting of a ship painted deep blue on the outside, with The Spotlight in curling silver script across it, and a bright blue sail.  The caption This is our ship was right beneath that and then the actual information underneath. I remember looking at that for a long time, even before reading the actual advertisement itself. But Maren had been reading it already, and she has always been a faster reader than me because almost immediately she exclaimed:

“Stelara! They sail across both!”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“Look, they sail both in the upper seas and the lower skies.”

She pointed to part of the poster, and sure enough, it said We’ll be sailing both the upper seas and the lower skies, and we’d hope that you would join us not just as a fortune-bringer, but as a friend too.

That, of course, was pretty surprising. But it made The Spotlight stand out from amongst all the other ships seeking Fortune bringers. That, and Maren was completely and utterly starry-eyed over the possibility.  When I turned to her and said we should go to the meeting spot that the poster instructed, she lit up so utterly that I knew that even if the owners of this ship were just spouting hot air, I wouldn’t regret trying.

I had to admit, that the declaration tugged at something in me, too. As a fortune-bringer, I wasn’t supposed to care, not really, not beyond making sure I fulfilled my role in keeping ships safe. But the thought of only being tied to one, and never being able to see the other, it hurt deep down. I was young and newly-ordained, and the tugging feeling made me feel guilty and so I told myself it was just to indulge Maren, nothing more. But even I couldn’t stop myself from taking Maren’s hand and swinging it as we walked down to the part of the harbour where the crew of The Spotlight were waiting to meet potential Fortune bringers, and when we reached a set of stalls selling various sweets, I decided that we should stop there and buy some.

We went to one particular stall that appeared to be selling various honey-and-sea-salt confections, and browsed the selection, when we heard someone from the next stall over yelling. Both of us turned to see the stall keeper yelling at a customer.

“Go away! Shoo, get away with you! I’m not having your grubby hands all over my wares!”

“I’m…I have...I have some money.”

The customer was a boy-young man, really- our age or possibly a little younger.  Tall for it, though. Not even his terrible posture could hide that. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed, with glasses that had been mended haphazardly over and over with lengths of twine wrapped around it. His clothes had been patched up multiple times, and he looked dirty. But sure enough, he was holding out a small money-pouch, and as his hands trembled I could hear coins clinking against each other.

“What, did you steal it? Nuh-uh, I’m not having you paying for my hard work with stolen money!”

The boy trembled more, but started to turn away.

“In that case, may I pay?”

My robes were simpler things back then, but still grand enough.  I knew this, and drew myself up to my full height. I didn’t want to intimidate the stall-keeper as such, but I did want him to feel the full effects of the image I was trying to give off.  It worked, too, for he stared at me for a moment and then lowered his eyes, meekly asking how much I wanted and wrapping it all up for me. I paid, and then immediately handed it all to the boy.

“There you are,” I said, holding them out. “I hope you enjoy them.”

He, however, just stared at them for a long moment, before looking at me, his eyes searching.

“What…what should I pay you?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Nothing at all,” I said. “You can keep your money. You need it, I can tell.”

“Say, Stelara, can’t he come with us? Maybe the owners of The Spotlight need other crew members? Even if they don’t, they’ll know someone who will. Ships are always recruiting. What do you think, um…what’s your name?”

Both the boy and I stared at Maren. I was mostly impressed and grateful that she had brought that up, especially as I hadn’t thought of it. Considering the state of him, I should have really. But the boy was staring at her with something closer to wonder. 

“My name is Innes.” He half-whispered.

“Innes.” I repeated. “Do you have a heritable name?”

“Ventura.”

But the way he said it lilted upwards, like a question. Ill-fitting, like his clothes and his glasses. I did not question it.

“I’m Maren,” Maren told him. “And this is Stelara. Obviously, we are fortune-bringers…well, I’m Stelara’s assistant, so you know our heritable names already. But come with us if you’d like. We’ll look after you.”

“Or find somewhere you can work.” I said, wanting to help but also needing to be reasonable.

Innes’s eyes flickered from Maren to me and back again before he bowed deeply. He was blushing, too overcome to give thanks in words, which was most certainly not helped by Maren taking his hand. I did not chide her for it though, for as we headed down to the place mentioned on the poster for The Spotlight, while his bashfulness did not abate, his shoulders relaxed, and his posture straightened. She even had him smiling.

The meeting spot was outside a ship-shed. Its doors were open, and I saw the ship that had been illustrated so beautifully on the poster. It looked just as impressive in person, though the sail was clearly rolled up and packed away. Four young men of our age were nearby, all talking together. Well, one seemed mostly to be listening while he busily drew something on a large sketchpad, and the other three talked. One was very expressive, charming even, with purple hair and mischievous eyes behind glasses in a much better condition than Innes’. It was he who noticed us and exclaimed:

“A fortune-bringer already! And such a pretty one too! Welcome, welcome. I assume it is our poster that has bought you here.”

This made the other three look up. I ignored the attempt at flirting and stepped forward:

“It is, yes. I am Stelara Santa, this is Maren Santa, my assistant and this is Innes Ventura, who is also looking for work.”

“Nice to meet you,” one of the other men said. “I’m Struan Marina and this is Elio Fortuna.”

“Struan Marina?” Maren blurted out.

Before I could scold her for it, Struan laughed warmly.

“Oh, I know. Aster teases me all the time about how watery my full name is. I don’t know what my parents were thinking-and I have asked. Right, Elio?”

Elio, like Struan, was sandy-haired and had a friendly-enough looking face. But where Struan’s expression was open in a way that matched, Elio’s was closed, his eyes somehow more intense and thoughtful. He had a cross-body bag full of rolled-up scrolls, and as he fiddled with the bag strap I noticed ink-stains on his fingers.

“Are you new to fortune-bringing?” he asked.

“I am, yes, but I am committed to fulfilling my duties, and I have been trained by the best, over in the West.”

“Stelara is really good!” Maren exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m sure. You seem sincere. And open-hearted.”

Elio stared unblinkingly at us for a moment, and then suddenly something seemed to soften in his expression, though he didn’t quite smile:

“We’re all new too, aren’t we? Technically. But we’ve been planning this for a long time.”

“Even sailing the upper skies and the lower seas together?” I asked.  

“You’re not from here, are you?” the sketching man asked.

“Dude, she just said they came from the West!” Aster teased.

“When Elio’s fortunes were cast out, they were split between the sky and the sea.” The sketching man said. “And we’ve never been able to avoid hearing about it since. Though, in all fairness, they’re the real deal. Oh, and I’m Orion, by the way. Orion Ventura.”

And on him, it was clear that Ventura was his actual heritable name.

“Orion is our artist and decorator,” Struan explained. “Elio and I are co-captains, but he’s also our main steerer and mapper, and I deal with the maintenance and so on. Orion helps with that too, as it happens. Then, Aster’s our money-man and back-up steerer. But most importantly, we’re friends.”

“They’re married, too, just so you know. I mean, it’ll be obvious soon enough.”

Aster pointed to Elio and Struan.

“Thanks for the interruption, Aster.” Struan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he returned his attention to us. “So, we’ll be hoping for someone who’ll stay with us, if not permanently then at least long-term. It won’t be like other voyages-there’s a lot that’s unknown about alternating between the sky and the sea, so much we’ll be doing for the first time.”

“But so much we’ll be discovering. Hopefully we’ll be able to encounter some sky whales in our lifetime.” Elio put in.

Maren’s eyes brightened at this, and I knew that I’d have a hard time persuading her that a more conventional ship would be a better choice. In truth, I would have had a hard time persuading myself to choose other work, but it was not just because of their enthusiasm. More than the fantastical claims they were making, I was drawn to the warmth between them, the bonds they had. It was that more than anything I wanted to be a part of, for it was something that felt as if it would be more meaningful. A lot of fortune-bringers went from ship to ship and never really settled before retiring, but I didn’t want that for myself.  The thought of that hurt more than the thought of only being tied to the sea or only to the sky.

But of course, there was one more person to consider. I looked to Innes, then turned back to the men.

“Do you have space for other crew members? Innes here is in need of work, I think I’ve mentioned.”

“What can you do?” Struan and Elio asked, almost in unison.

They looked at each other, and Elio nodded at Struan, who then repeated the question. Innes’s shoulders hunched, but Maren, who hadn’t let go of his hand all this time, gave it a squeeze. Already, they were a striking pair, him being so tall and her being so little and pretty. I remember thinking that I’d have to get a small charm, bless it for their entwined fortunes, whatever shapes those could take. In any case, emboldened by Maren, he said:

“I can…I can cook. But I can help with anything really. Cleaning, repairing. Errands.”

“A ship’s cook! Perfect! We need one of those, right?” Struan said.

This got agreement from the other three men and well, from that moment we were in. Oh, there were other proper discussions, drawing up of contracts and agreements and so on, preparations for our first voyage. All the usual, more conventional things. But truth be told, all of those were formalities, just to seal the deal. From the moment I saw that poster, its opening line wasn’t just an attention-grabbing invite: this is our ship.

It was a prophecy.

And we answered it that day.

...

Aster

This is our ship.

This is our ship, and I’ve never been more excited to be here. Right now, we’re following a shoal of distressed star-fish. Or rather, we are following them in reverse across the sky. It’s a way of trying to find the spot they have fled from. It is a sure sign a sky-whale is around, according to the scant bits of information about them. They tend to agitate the meteors that the star-fish like to rest upon. They like knocking them around the way children kick around balls on land.  They don’t always, and there have been other sky-ship sailors who have been let down though, us included.

I have a good feeling about this sighting, though.

As Elio murmurs out directions, I carefully steer the ship backwards. This is a little un-nerving, admittedly. I do not often steer backwards. But Elio thinks it might be a good idea. And the guy’s always been a bit weird, but he is clever. If we steer backwards, we won’t disturb other sky-life. The whales won’t be given a clue. Plus, going backwards means going slow. Even less chance of spooking them. Pretty flawless plan. If it works, we’ll become the experts. Gotta say, that will be pretty cool.  We’re pretty well-known already, but this will really chase away the doubters. Or so I hope. Either way, I really want to see a sky-whale, and so does everyone else.

“I see some meteor formations,” Orion whispers. “They look bright, but I can’t tell what from.”

“Here’s your telescope.”

I look over my shoulder to see Innes hand over the telescope, which he had borrowed.  His binoculars broke, but we’ve been too busy tracking the star-fish. Poor Innes. I’ll make sure to fix it for him, he gets so awkward about buying new stuff still. But first, sky-whales!

“There are star-fish coming out of a crack, a few star-flowers…and I think…I think that’s a fin.”

“A fin?” Struan gasps. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I think…yes.”

“Oh my goodness, Aster, go faster!” Maren exclaims.

“We can’t go too fast,” Elio reminded her. “We might scare them. Ah, Aster, to the right a little. We shouldn’t be directly in line with the meteors.”

“Right, yep, sure.”

I steer as I am instructed, keep going backwards. The streams of star-fish get more frantic as we get closer and closer. The meteor formation is larger than I realised it was. It looks almost like parts of a cliff had been yanked from the land and tugged up here. On an impulse, I pull the ship higher into the sky, so that we are slightly above it.

And then I see it. A flash of grey fin. A glimpse of underbelly, white like the moon. The others exclaim, and I pull the levers that will keep us still for a few moments and go to join them.

“It’s behind it,” Stelara says. “It’s coming out!”

A large nose, almost like a bottle, pokes a smaller bit of rock from the meteor formation, sending it crumbling and tumbling out into the expanse. Then, so smoothly, it appears. The sky-whale. This one is grey, a lot like other sea-whales, but it is smaller and slimmer than them, and it shimmers slightly. It keeps playing with the rock, which comes closer to the ship. So of course, the whale itself comes closer. Almost close enough to touch. And I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I hold onto the railing. I lean over. I reach out my hand…

…and then the sky-whale nudges the rock and it skitters off into the opposite direction. Just like that, the whale turns tail and follows it, swimming along and fading into the distance, a cloud coming to cover it. I groan in disappointment.

“Did you…did you see that? It got so close!” Maren squeals.

“It came right up to us!” Struan exclaims. “That’s…it’s so amazing!”

“It really is.” Innes said. “I feel so lucky. I hope we’ll see one again.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will.” Orion states confidently.

And their excitement infects me. Even if it was only a little glimpse, it was a whole whale we saw. A whole, entire sky-whale. I can still see its tail in the distance. So I keep watch until it is completely gone. Then, I ask:

“Can I start steering the right way now?”

…

Maren

This is our ship.

This is our ship, this is our ship, this is our ship.

The winds are howling and pushing us around, left-to right and backwards and forwards. Innes and Aster have to stand either side of Elio as he tries to steer through it, while Struan and Orion makes sure that they’re tied to the deck, so that they are not blown away and thrown into the lower skies. Those lower skies, their waters churn, grey-blue and un-forbidding and all around us the sky expands and retracts, making soul-shattering noises as lights flash. The rain falls in sheets from the clouds and we all shiver, even Stelara, standing at the front and attempting to ward against the storms with all the usual storm prayers and charms. Her hair is plastered to her face and her gowns so soaked they are transparent and yet she stands, tall and regal and not buckling, not once.

And all I can think is This is our ship. This is our ship. This is our ship, it has weathered so much since we all set sail together for the first time so many season-cycles ago, through the upper seas and the lower skies. We have had hairy encounters with whales of both kinds as we sought to understand them, we have retrieved lost sea-ship wrecks stranded in dangerous places. We have thwarted smugglers and discovered new minerals and plants, like the star-flowers I always wear in my hair. We’ve ended up lost, damaged this ship on hidden rocks, fallen ill.

And we have been in storms like this, too.

So many storms.

But…this is our ship. Our ship.

As merely an assistant fortune bringer, there is little I can do. As the frailest and the youngest of us all, there is little I can do. But I, too, have power. I can make my heart’s voice ring out across the heavens, make it silently entwine with Stelara’s chants and make them heard across the cacophony of this song. This is our ship, this is our ship, this is our ship. We all have the things we can do and will do when dangers like this strike, and this is what I am doing. A plea, dressed up as a prayer, but it is more than that.

It is an oath.

This is our ship. It is not I who has weathered all these things. It is not Stelara alone with her fortune-bringer privileges, or Elio’s organisation and leadership, or any of the others and the things they have bought to this ship. No, it is all of us. This ship is our ship, and that is exactly why it will get through this storm, just as it has gotten through every other.

This is our ship, this is our ship, this is our ship.

We continue onwards through the winds, through the threat of the churning water below us and the clattering light and relentless rain. Elio and Aster and Innes keep steering and Stelara keeps on with her rituals and Struan and Orion keep holding them in place and I continue making sure my heart’s voice is as loud as it can be.

This is our ship. This is our ship. This. Is. Our. Ship.

...

Innes

This is our ship.

Seeing the picture of it, that same picture that Orion painted for the poster that bought Stelara, Maren and I together, then led us towards Elio and the rest, it makes me want to pick up the book that has the picture on the cover and wave it around and tell all the other customers in this store that this is our ship. That I am one of the people that they would be reading about if they were to purchase it alongside their bottles and ropes and sewing materials.

I am not that person, though. Perhaps I am no longer the lonely, starving boy who’d never had anywhere to go. Perhaps I no longer feel the need to hide my height by hunching my shoulders, to weave a plea for forgiveness into any word I spoke to another person to apologise for the inconvenience for listening to me.  But I am not a person for boasting.

Still, I am so proud.

I go around the shop and get what I’m supposed to get, but I keep going back to the book. My hands keep hovering over it every time I do and then, eventually, I pick it up. I take it to the shopgirl so that she can pack it all up and pay, and when she spots the book her eyes light up:

“Oh, have you heard of them? They’re so cool! I get ship-sick, so I can’t sail, but it would be so cool to be able to sail both! Don’t you think? I’ve heard that they might be back for a bit-this is where the fortune-bringer and her assistant grew up, you know!”

I stammer something out that I hope is polite, because I’m not brave enough to say, actually, I’m one of those people. I’d probably turn into a puddle if the shopgirl focussed all that enthusiasm on me. Still, underneath it all, my pride swells and grows, and when I take my goods and leave the shop, I feel like I am floating.

I walk towards the tavern we are all meeting up in for our lunch, taking the scenic route. Some people do recognise me, but I wave and smile and move on quickly before things get awkward. At a market stall, I briefly stop at a stall selling sweets and linger over the pastries. I remember forty-seasons cycles ago, in a different town and my hands shake for a moment. But I am not that person anymore. My black shimmery scarf is a few cycles old now, but it’s good quality and doesn’t look it. My glasses do not need to be patched up with twine. I can stand tall, calmly point to a pastry and ask for it, pay the correct amount. The stall owner doesn’t even blink, is unfailingly polite.

An easy enough interaction, but just as I am about to leave, something makes me stop and take a look around the market area. I do not see any people of the streets here, just the stall owners, their assistants, and happy townspeople going about their day. But they were around, I was sure. Some things didn’t change. Just because I was no longer that person, it didn’t mean there weren’t others who were still like that.

I return to the stall, and get my purse out again.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, back again? Did you want something else?”

“Sort of.” I take a breath, and pull out some coins. “If someone comes up to your stall, or nearby, and they look really hungry and like they can’t afford the food, could you feed them? Anyone, doesn’t matter who. Just…someone who could use it. I’ll cover it.”

The stall owner stares at my hand and the outstretched coins, and I feel myself go red.

“Please?” I ask.

“Um…right…sure.”

The stall owner takes the coins uncertainly, and seeing an opportunity to go I blurt out my thanks and leave. Eating the pastry I had bought for myself, I hurry along to the tavern. When I get there, Stelara and Maren are standing outside. Stelara is apparently dispensing spiritual advice, but Maren is just standing there and when she spots me she beams and rushes to me, hugging me tightly. Even though she’s so tiny, the force almost knocks me over. She then steps back and beams at me, youthful as always.

“The others are inside already! Well, Struan and Elio aren’t yet-oh, hold on, there they are!”

Maren waves, and I turn to see Elio and Struan running up to us.

“Sorry,” Struan apologises. “We…uh…lost track of time.”

Struan blushes as he gives Elio a sideways glance. Embarrassment seems to completely bypass Elio though, as always, but it’s impossible to hide that sleepy satisfied demeanour. I don’t tease him though-that will be Aster’s job.

“it’s fine!” Maren says. “We’re all here now, so let’s go in! Hey, Stelara, come on!”

Maren hooks her arm around mine, and once Stelara says her farewells to the townspeople she has been advising, she joins us as we head into the tavern. Aster and Orion spot us immediately and wave us over to the table. Once we’re all sat down, and the waiter has been to take our orders, I pull out the book I bought and place it on the table. And bubbling over with pride, I say to them:

“Look-this is our ship!”

…

Struan

This is our ship.

The words echoed through my head, over and over as we started to approach land. Elio was asleep, still, but I could not wake him. It was not as if he would even be aware of what was happening, not really. Aster and Innes had been taking turns steering over the course of this moon-cycle. I’ve never been as skilful as Elio in steering, and especially not since my sixty-seventh spring, when my knee joints started becoming stiffer. But that’s never mattered, not once. I’ve still been able to carry on. Just how Innes can keep cooking even though he’s been needing thicker glasses, and Maren keeps carrying on even after the vicious fever of two season-cycles ago left her weaker.  This is our ship.  No matter how age and mortality started creeping up upon us, we’ve never let that change.

You’re getting older, Orion’s nephews say. It’s time to stop this stuff, it’s unseemly, the nephews’ spouses say, let the young take over and make new discoveries.  Some of the priests at the temple where Stelara trained have recently been trying to persuade her to retire. But we refused all of that, kept going.  We kept sailing the upper seas and the lower skies. We guided new ships on their first journeys, we witnessed the birth of sea and sky-whales both.  The Spotlight reached and then passed her seventieth spring of sailing, and I knew, of course, that it would end soon enough, with the end of our lives approaching.  This has always been something that we’ve been aware of, I’ve never been foolish enough to wish for forever. One day, we would stop sailing.

But not like this.

Not ever like this.

It was easy not to notice at first. We’re all a little forgetful, after all. There is nothing wrong with coming up to the deck to stare at the sky or the sea when sleep eludes us, after all. We all make silly mistakes, after all. But soon, it became clear that with Elio it was different. He wandered the ship and almost fell overboard. Sometimes he’d look right through us and not respond. He messed up directions that he’d known better than his own name, had us almost crash into an island, a meteor formation, another sea-ship. He started to have bad dreams, lash out for no reason.

At first, these incidents were isolated, but then they happened more frequently. When we next reached land, we saw a medicine woman, and a priest, and both said it was the mind-drowning. That inexplicable affliction that steals away memory and reason at the end of life. He was drowning, they said, but not in a way that I could prevent by diving in after him.  But I didn’t want to believe it. None of us wanted to. So we tried to keep going, tried to keep Elio away from the steering and other dangerous things, made sure he was never alone. But just as we had been told, it kept getting worse.

And then one day, even thought I was right there in bed next to him, he woke up weeping and asking for me, and no matter how I reassured him, he didn’t recognise me. Over and over, he talked about waiting until he was a grown-up to marry me and then I realised that he thought that he was still seven years old, and I couldn’t do anything more than hold on and weep with him until the moment was over and he just became vacant and silent again. But in that moment, in our sleeping cabin with the window patched up from an earlier incident where he’d accidentally cracked it, high up in the sky, I’d never felt so alone.

That was it, though. That moment was the one that made me give up and give in. The one that made me realise that it really was over. So arrangements were made, letters and messenger birds sent back and forth to finalise the plans, and this voyage became our last.

“We’re here, we’re here-no, Struan, you stay with him. We’ll deal with the ship.”

Maren put a comforting hand on my shoulder and glanced sadly down at Elio for a moment before pasting a smile on her face and going to help with preparing the mooring the lines. As we approached the dock and its berths, Aster slowed the ship, so that it could be carefully manoeuvred. The other pitched in as appropriate, but I stayed by Elio’s side. Our bags were all packed-Elio’s niece and grand-nephews were coming to help unpack everything from the boat, and Orion’s family were also going to help us all get to our new homes, but I had kept one bag with us, and one bag only.

The one that Elio had always had, right from when he was young. The canvas bag that he had filled with maps throughout his life. A number of them had become valuable as we’d become more well-known, so those had been packed away, but I had kept plenty in there, ones from voyages that I knew he’d particularly enjoyed. His globe had been in there too, and one more thing. Before trying to wake him up, I reached deep into the bag and pulled it out-the toy ship he had received on the occasion of his seventh-summer-day. His father had been an accomplished carpenter, especially with small things like this. Even now, not a single part had worn away. I ran my finger over its surfaces, my child-self’s voice echoing in my head, Elio’s echoing in my head.

“This is our ship!”

“No, it’s my good-season present!”

“No, silly. I mean, the ship we’re going to have when we’re older! I bet it will look like this, so, it’s our ship!”

“Oh! For us to sail together, in the upper seas and lower skies both?”

“Yup!”

I was not completely forsaken. I had Aster, Orion, Innes, Stelara and Maren. They were my friends for life, just as I was theirs. Our final season-cycles on land would still revolve around each other, and there was comfort and strength to be had in that. But it would be different without Elio. However many more season-cycles he lived for once we were back on land, he still would not be there. And it wasn’t the same.

There had never been a time in my life when I had not known Elio. There had never been a time in my life when I had not wanted what Elio wanted-to have him by my side always, and to sail with him always. The only thing we had disagreed on-very briefly-was whether or not to have children. But until the mind-drowning, he had never broken a promise to me, or truly hurt me, or left me alone.  I didn’t think that his mind would have ever been one that could drown. He had always been so steadfast, so stubborn, so steady, even when we were silly little boys whose dreams were nothing more than just that, dreams.

Yet, here we were now. Our dreams, having been reality for so long, were becoming dreams once again. But this time, I would be alone with them.

I rubbed my face, then carefully eased the toy ship into Elio’s hand, making sure his other hand still held onto his globe. Then, after closing the bag, I shook his shoulder gently.

“Elio, wake up.”

Elio stirred, blinking. He sat up, and stared right through me for a moment before looking around. Then, dazedly, he asked:

“Is it my turn to steer yet? We’re getting close to the sky.”

“Actually, we’re visiting land quickly. We need new sails; it’s going to be windy in the upper seas.”

I had become all too familiar with making up scenarios to appease Elio’s drowning mind. He would not remember the truth anyway, and the distress it would put him through each time wasn’t worth it.

“Oh. I see. I’ll have to consult the weather charts. Can you get them for me?”

“When we’re on land, we’ll sit down and look at them.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.”

In moments like this, it was hard to tell if he recognised me or not. Sometimes, his mind seemed to come up for air, and he seemed much the way he always had been, he had awareness of the world. Other time, it was only a cruel façade.

“What are you doing here anyway, Ciel?”

My heart sank. Mistaking me for one of Aster’s ex-partners was a sign that he wasn’t re-surfaced. I smiled, and did my best to pretend again:

“Come to visit Aster, of course. I thought I’d say hi. Let’s get off.”

“Oh yes.”

Elio was silent as I helped him off the ship and the others got everything down. My niece approached me, and I left Elio in the care of the others, on a nearby harbour bench.

“How has he been, Uncle?” she asked.

“Much the same, Cosima.” I said. “Much the same.”

“Poor Uncle Elio,” Cosima sighed. “Still, better for you to be with us than out there. Imagine if something happened! Anyway, Uncle, are you sure that you don’t want to sell the ship? You could get a lot of money for it-and besides, don’t you want to see the famous The Spotlight get more voyages in?”

This was something that the seven of us had agreed on. Even Elio, when he had not been completely submerged, had managed to give his agreement. We were not selling the ship. I watched it being pulled onto land by Orion’s nephews, going towards the ship-shed that was ours anyway.

“This is our ship.” I told her. “Our ship.”

Cosima sighed in a way which made it clear that she thought I was being a foolish old man. Still, my mind had not drowned, and neither had the others’. She couldn’t do anything about it. She just shook her head, and pointed to one of her sons, who was assisting Orion’s nephews.

“Anyway, Selene and River have got it all cosy for the two of you,” she said. “You’ll be fine on land for your final season-cycles. The bags should be all loaded up, I’ll check if the cart is ready to take you all.”

I thanked Cosima and went back to join Elio and my friends. Elio was apparently watching our ship being put into the shed, but it wasn’t clear if he was truly seeing it.

“He’s been quiet so far.” Stelara murmured to me.

“Right.”

I sat down next to Elio on the bench, and he turned to me. His eyes seemed to catalogue my face and then, quite suddenly, he smiled, holding up the toy ship.

“This is our ship.”

My mouth opened, but no words came. Was this another cruel trick of the mind-drowning? But Elio’s smile brightened as he directed it to the others, too, pointing the toy ship at them.

“This is our ship.” He said again. “The one we’ll sail together, in the upper seas and the lower skies both. All of us, together.”

“Elio…” Orion murmured.

Elio then turned his attention to the ship shed, which was now slowly being closed. Our ship was being shut away but still, he smiled and said:

“It will always be our ship, even when we stop sailing. Right, Struan?”

My heart stopped, and then started again, stronger than ever before. I fought the tears, but not well enough, because Elio reached out to pat me, then noticed his hands were full. He put his globe down (Innes quickly swooped down and tucked it into Elio’s bag), and then used that hand to stroke my hair, hand trembling with the effort of it.

“Don’t cry, Struan. This will always be our ship, won’t it?”

“Yeah, Elio,” I said, gesturing towards the shed. “It always will.”

“Good.”

Elio leaned his head against my shoulder, and I put my arm around his. The others clustered around closer in what felt like a group embrace. This moment had already faded. He was probably already submerged once again. But I wanted to keep a hold of the moment for as long as I could. So, we remained there for a while, all seven of us, watching the sky and the sea and the horizon line that connected them both. They seemed to sparkle, dazzling with the lifetimes of memories we had built and shared there, even the ones that had now been lost.  And what a lifetime it had been. Despite the pain of these recent moon-cycles, I wouldn’t change a thing.

 Either way, it was over. But still, Elio was right. Even though it was shut away, even though we would never sail it again, even though our final season-cycles were approaching, there was one thing that would not change. A sentence that would always be true, even once his body expired to join his drowned mind and even once we all passed on too. The one constant of our lives:

This is our ship.