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“Only fools don’t fear the sea.”
Leonie had always wondered about this one. Usually all of Captain Jeralts advice had been reasonably straightforward and pragmatic, but she never really understood this one – until now.
Before the war, she had only ever seen the sea around the alliance, always calm and blue; but out here in former empire territory, the waters were as grey as the sky above. She had never seen the ocean this untamed, waves crashing wildly against the harbor walls, tossing massive ships about as if they were toy boats in a tub. It had been stupid to ask if they would set sail tomorrow – the storm showed no sign of ending, and only a madman would sail out in this weather – but she had to at least try, dammit; sitting around for two days with nothing to do had made her restless.
Leonie made her way back through empty streets while the never ending rain wrapped the city in a gray veil. By the time she had returned to the inn, she was thoroughly drenched and in a really foul mood. That’s what bothered her the most. She had been almost permanently in a bad mood lately. This journey was supposed to get her out of this rut, to make her feel excited again. She had been looking forward to this for weeks, but now it seemed her adventure had ended before it began because the stupid storm kept the stupid ships from sailing.
When she returned to their room, Ignatz was still sitting by the window, sketching the rainy rooftops outside. He turned around when she entered and gave her a sympathetic look. “Still no luck?”
“Of course not.” she said bitterly. “And I’m getting really sick of being stuck in this goddess forsaken town. Big cities are a blight upon village folk like me.”
“We could go home and try again some other time.”
“No, we can’t”, Leonie sighed, her voice drenched in exasperation, “not after Hilda threw that ridiculously big farewell party. Everybody was there to say goodbye, remember? Claude even came all the way from Almyra, somehow. Marianne was in tears. So was Lorenz. What would it look like if we showed up again after all that? Sorry, we’re not leaving Fódlan after all, gotta wait for better weather!” Leonie hadn’t even realized she’d talked herself into a rant until she saw the look on Ignatz’ face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off like that. This whole situation is just so frustrating.”
“Would it cheer you up if we went downstairs and got some warm food to eat?”
“We’ve already had a meal today, and I don’t want to deplete our travel budget before we’ve even left Fódlan.”
“Well, we don’t have to use our travel budget.” Ignatz reached into one of his coat pockets and took out a small bag of coins.
“Wait, how did you…” Leonie was confused at first, but then it dawned on her, “No way, did you sell one?”
Ignatz nodded sheepishly. “Last week a dagdan merchant bought my portrait of Saint Seiros. He called it transcendental.”
Leonie pulled the unsuspecting young man into a bear hug. “Good job, I knew you had it in you!”
Once she had released her companion from her embrace, Ignatz’ face had turned to a remarkable shade of crimson. “Thanks, I’m glad you liked the surprise.” He weighed the little bag in his hand. “We could buy a small feast and still have some surplus coin. What do you say?”
Leonie thought about it. On the one hand, her instinct told her to save the money. They were going on a journey of indeterminable length and destination; it only made sense to save up as much as possible. Who knew what financial obstacles the future would throw in their way? But on the other hand, she could really need some food right now, and what was the point of staying in an inn with its own tavern if you never made use of it?
“Alright,” Leonie said, against her better judgment, “just this once, let’s treat ourselves to something fancy.”
***
Fancy might not have been the right word to describe the food of the tavern, but at least it was plenty. The table between the two companions was laden with grilled herring, fish and bean soup, fisherman’s bounty and more. If all this food hadn’t raised Leonie’s spirits, the atmosphere probably would have. The whole place was kept warm by two fireplaces, and at every table people were talking, laughing or singing; it was a stark contrast to the weather outside. Add in a big tankard of ale, and Leonie was feeling better than she had in weeks.
If there was one worry still nagging at her, it was the thought that perhaps they had gone a bit overboard with the food. By the time Leonie and Ignatz felt properly stuffed they had barely cleared half the table, and that was simply unacceptable. Leonie could never forgive herself if she let this much food go to waste.
She was contemplating just giving away the surplus dishes to the other tavern guests when the entrance door burst open and a tall hooded figure, dressed in a dark green coat and utterly soaked from head to toe, came in.
Every patron in the room watched as the mysterious newcomer made their way to the counter and inquired about a room for two.
Leonie thought that this character felt vaguely familiar, until they moved around and took their hood off, and she recognized that tired, unamused face.
“Hey Linhardt!” she shouted across the densely packed room and tried to wave him over.
The young mage, having recognized his former fellow students, hesitated briefly before making his way over. “Leonie,” his voice still seemed only seconds away from turning into a yawn when he spoke, “and Ignatz, what a surprise to find the two of you all the way out here.”
“I could say the same to you,” Leonie examined the man, who looked as drenched and miserable as she had been just a few hours ago, “didn’t think you would be outside in a weather like this.”
“Oh, don’t get me started on the weather.” It really shouldn’t be possible for Linhardt to sound even more tired than usual, but somehow he managed.
Ignatz offered him a plate of grilled herring. “Are you hungry? We have plenty of food to share.”
“Great idea!” Leonie was delighted that their excess of food wouldn’t have to go to waste. “Sit down, eat up, and you can tell us what you’ve been doing lately.”
Linhardt smiled. “You are very generous, thanks, but I don’t want to do that. Goodbye.” And without another word, he turned around and headed for the stairs.
Leonie and Ignatz shared a bemused look. “I guess he never really learned good manners, didn’t he?”
Before Linhardt had even reached the stairwell the entrance door burst open again, and once more a hooded figure entered the tavern, this one significantly shorter and carrying multiple traveling suitcases.
The identity of this newcomer didn’t remain a mystery for long. “Linhardt!” Caspar shouted loud enough that every man and woman in the room turned their heads, “Are you in here? Please tell me I didn’t barge into the wrong building again!”
Before Linhardt could answer, Leonie was at Caspar’s side. “You look loaded like a mule! Want me to help you with some of that luggage?”
Caspar had to awkwardly shake his hood off before he could see and recognize her. “Oh hey, it’s you! What are you doing here?”
“Same as you I guess. In fact, Ignatz and I just ordered a whole bunch of food we can’t possibly finish alone; do you guys want to come and join us?”
Caspar’s eyes practically sparkled when he saw the heavily laden table. “Aw man, you guys would share all that with us? That’s great! Hey Linhardt, isn’t that great?”
Linhardt, realizing that his companion would leave him no choice but to join, simply replied, “Yes, terrific.”
***
The problem of the surplus dishes had thus been taken care off. Once the luggage was dropped off in their room and they had changed into dry clothes, Caspar pounced on the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Linhardt simply took a bowl of fish and bean soup and apologized for his companions horrid table manners, but remained otherwise silent. Caspar, on the other hand, readily indulged in some expository chatter, about everything the two had been up to after the war.
“…so I looked at the guy and said, ‘That was the farmers’ daughter!’” Caspar laughed heartily at his own joke, blissfully unaware that his audience was only chuckling along out of polite obligation.
“That was impressive,” Ignatz said, “you’ve already travelled so far in just a few years. I’m jealous.”
“You should be,” Caspar bragged, “Almyra, Brigid, Dagda; we’ve been to all sorts of places!”
“…and were often told never to return,” Linhardt added, with a not-at-all-judgmental look at his partner, “which makes further travels a bit of a hassle.”
“I can imagine.” Leonie sat with her head resting on one hand. “Ignatz and I are only now starting our travels, and it looks like yours are already over. Or is there any place you haven’t been kicked out of?”
“Well, there’s at least one!” Caspar wore the smuggest smile as he spoke. “But it’s not a journey that just anyone can make!”
“I thought we agreed to not talk about where we’re going next?” Linhardt sounded just the tiniest bit irritated.
“Awww, come on Lin, we can tell them, they’re comrades-in-arms, they’re trustworthy!”
Leonie had no idea what the two were on about, but now her curiosity had been peaked. “Yeah, come on Lin, don’t you trust your cute allies?” She swung an arm around Ignatz and pulled the befuddled young man closer.
“It appears we have very different definitions of the word ‘cute’,” was Linhardt’s response. It took a bit more nagging from Caspar and Leonie before he finally relented. “Alright, alright, I suppose we should tell someone where we’re going, just in case.”
Ignatz laughed nervously. “You sound like you don’t expect to return, haha.”
“That is actually a distinct possibility.” Linhardt opened his satchel as he spoke and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. He put it on the table so Leonie and Ignatz could read the title. In golden, cursive letters the cover read:
The Fourth And Final Voyage Of Havelland Von Hevring
“A relative of yours?” Leonie asked.
“Ancestor, actually” Linhardt replied.
“I think I recognize that name from somewhere,” Ignatz said while adjusting his glasses, “he was a famous adrestian seafarer, wasn’t he?”
Linhardt nodded. “Indeed he was, and to make a long story short, we’re trying to finish his last, uncompleted journey.”
“And where is that journey taking you?” Leonie wanted to know, but instead of an answer she got a really bewildered look from Caspar.
“Are you telling me you’ve never heard of Captain Havelland’s travels? I thought everybody knows about them!”
The two former deer shook their heads.
“I suppose they are more of an adrestian thing,” Linhardt mumbled, “Since, you know, he was an adrestian noble and all.”
“But everyone should read them, they’re awesome!” Caspar turned to Leonie and Ignatz, excitement burning in his eyes. “Captain Havelland was this incredible sailor who travelled all across the world and had all sorts of adventures, and he wrote them all down in his journals and published them and they are so good! They are full of swashbuckling fights and big sea battles and sexy pirate babes and at one point there’s a kraken! I practically learned reading with those books, they are amazing!”
Linhardt yawned. “Yes, they are rather popular with children”, he said, which caused a loud indignant HEY from Caspar, “because they were embellished and sensationalized, of course.”
“So he didn’t have any outrageous high sea adventures?” Leonie guessed.
“Well, he was an accomplished seafarer, that much is true.” Linhardt sipped on his ale as he spoke. “He was just seventeen when he first sailed the Dagda-Brigid-trade route, a stretch of water that even professional captains find challenging; he sailed around Albinea during winter, which was thought to be impossible; and because that apparently wasn’t enough he then became the first man to completely circumnavigate the Fódlan-Almyran continent.”
“Those were his first three voyages!” Caspar exclaimed excitedly.
“Not content with being the most celebrated sea captain of his time, he then set out on his fourth voyage, one that would change the world as we know it and make him remembered in the annals of history forevermore!” Linhardt almost sounded excited as he spoke, but his voice returned to his usual subdued tone as he continued, “And then he failed, and that’s why his last journal is only this thin.” He gestured at the book on the table.
Ignatz picked up the slim book and leafed through it. “What did he want to do that would have been so groundbreaking?”
“Sail east,” Linhardt said while yawning, “past Almyra and Morfis, through the Straits of Navarre.”
“Why is that such a big deal?” Leonie wondered.
Caspar laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because it’s almost impossible!”
Linhardt nodded. “It’s true. The Straits are widely considered the most dangerous sea route in the world. The waters are supposed to be unpredictable. Thousands of ships have been smashed against sharp rocks, and the few that allegedly managed to pass were never heard from again. There is only one report of a fódlanese captain passing the straits and returning to tell of it.”
“Your ancestor, I presume?”
“Indeed. That book is about that very journey.”
Leonie examined the journal again. “You’d think a book about such a momentous event would be bigger.”
“Maybe it would have been if his journey hadn’t been cut short.”
“What happened?” Ignatz asked. “Did he die?”
Linhardt gave the other man a mildly sardonic look. “I don’t think he could have written a book about it if he did. Corpses are not known for their authorial prowess. No, the truth is that he passed the straits and managed to sail farther east than any man in Fódlan ever had, and even reached the coast of a hitherto unknown land, where he was promptly captured by pirates.”
“Pirates?”
Linhardt shrugged. “Turns out that undiscovered countries can already be inhabited, and sometimes those inhabitants are pirates. Who would have thought?”
“He fought those nasty scurvy dogs, but they managed to lure him into a trap and captured him!” Caspar very excitedly mimicked the actions as he described them. “They probably would have killed him then and there, but then they figured out that he was a rich noble and would probably fetch a hefty sum in extortion money!”
Leonie snorted. “Don’t tell me that they hauled him all the way back to Fódlan?”
“Well, that was the plan, apparently,” Linhardt said while stifling a yawn, “but they never made it all the way back.”
“What happened?”
“Remember when I called the Straits of Navarre the most dangerous sea route in the world?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Linhardt allowed himself a faint smile. “Apparently they made it almost the whole way through, only to crash against a rock pillar on the last mile; such a shame.”
“And your ancestor survived that?” Ignatz asked. “How?”
“He clung to a piece of driftwood and let himself get carried out into the ocean, where an almyran fishing boat found him three days later. He was not in the best condition by then, obviously, half-starved and nearly dead of thirst. He made his way back home eventually, but he never really recovered. He lived just long enough to write this book, and that was that.”
“And no one has managed to cross the straits since?”
Linhardt shrugged. “Well, no one has really tried. Havelland died right around the time the kingdom separated from the empire, so people had other things to worry about, obviously. Afterwards, tales of swashbuckling adventures where never as popular again, and nobody really cared about places that might exist somewhere far away, when the places that definitely exist right next door mean trouble.”
“And now you want to complete what your ancestor left unfinished,” Leonie teased, “I had no idea you could be this sentimental, Lin.”
“Oh please,” Linhardt said dismissively, “my interest is purely scholarly in nature, I assure you.”
“Sure it is.” Leonie took another swig from her mug. “Honestly, I envy you. What you’re about to do sounds fun. Ignatz and I wanted to go travelling too, but we’ve been stuck in this lousy storm for an eternity!”
“Two days,” mumbled Ignatz.
“Yeah, that’s a bummer!” Caspar said with a mouthful of herring, “travelling is awesome. You see lots of amazing places and meet tons of people…”
“Who ask you to never come by again,” murmured Linhardt.
“And everywhere you go there’s new food to try,” Caspar continued unperturbed. “Man, I can’t wait to set sail again. I’ve been pumped for this trip since forever!”
Leonie noticed Ignatz giving her a look; she got a feeling that he was thinking the same thing as her. Well, it’s worth a try…
“Is it alright with you if we come along? We wanted to go to Dagda first, but your trip sounds more exciting!”
Linhardt was about to answer, but Caspar beat him to it. “Whoa, hang on a second; you can’t just invite yourself to someone else’s epic quest!”
“I know, that’s why I was asking if it’s alright!”
“Well, it isn’t! This is a strictly two-men-who-are-best-friends mission!”
“But why,” Ignatz asked, “If it really is as difficult as it sounds, shouldn’t you want more people to help out?”
“Absolutely not!” yelled Caspar. “More people in the party mean more people to hog your glory!”
“I’m not really interested in glory…” mentioned Linhardt, only to be ignored.
“How do I know that you can be trusted?” Caspar gestured at Ignatz and Leonie, “I’m pretty sure I never even talked to either of you before!”
“Oh come on, we fought in a war together!” Leonie almost shouted, clearly irritated. “You yourself said we were trustworthy!”
“When did I say that?”
“Barely ten minutes ago!”
Here and there, a few tavern guests turned their heads to see what the source of the sudden yelling was. Leonie had jumped from her seat, wildly gesturing at Caspar and Linhardt.
“You two helped me get my bow from the monster turtle, remember?”
Caspar made a face. “The what now?”
Now Leonie made a face. “Don’t tell me you forgot! We travelled to Lake Teutates and got attacked by a giant turtle monster, surely you remember that?”
Caspar’s face was blank.
“Seriously? Come on, that’s not something you just forget!” Leonie’s gesturing became more erratic. “This giant monster turtle appeared in the lake, and it summoned those… ghost illusion soldiers who started attacking us…”
“Oh, the ghost dudes, yeah I remember those! That was one hell of a weird brawl. Don’t recall any monster turtle though.”
“How did you miss the huge monster turtle?”
“I told you, I was busy fighting a bunch of ghost dudes!”
While Caspar and Leonie argued, Ignatz spoke with Linhardt. “You know, I think there is one major benefit from letting us join you.”
Linhardt looked mildly intrigued. “And what would that be?”
“Two more companions mean two more people to keep an eye on Caspar!”
By some divine coincidence, this was the exact moment that Caspar took a bite from one of the leftover fish and almost immediately started to cough wildly; apparently something got stuck in his throat.
Leonie was on her feet before the others could react, jumped behind Caspar and started slapping his back while the former coughed up a storm until he spat out a piece of bone.
The dislocated fishbone sailed in a broad arc through the air before it landed with a small plonk on Linhardt’s plate.
With a look of exasperation honed by many years of babysitting an adult man, Linhardt looked down at the bone in front of him, then back up at Ignatz. “You make a convincing argument.”
***
Once Caspar was no longer choking on a piece of piscis he was more open to the idea of having two more travelling companions.
They spent the rest of the evening discussing everything from travel preparations to precautions for unlikely outrageous circumstances; apparently those happened often around Caspar, according to Linhardt.
As they talked, the tavern slowly emptied out as more and more guests went to their rooms for the night. The innkeeper came by their table, asking if their meal had been satisfactory and not so subtly insinuating that they should follow the other guests’ example. Leonie ordered four last tankards of ale, “to commemorate this special occasion!”
On that night, four mugs were raised in a toast, and four voices (three excited and one half-hearted) cheered in unison. The time had come to start a new adventure!