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Caulmal Yar had served on the Astinato for a decade. Starting as an apprentice master-at-arms he had risen to the rank of first mate more quickly than anyone had anticipated. He was a strong and fearless swordsman and, like his rapid ascent among the raider crew, had no trouble keeping others informed of this fact. While non-tahvic would be seen as boastful or arrogant for such claims his people's reputation allowed him to get away with it without a second glance. Adam found it annoying but was assured by Eris that it was to be expected. She also informed him that the slender, wiry tahvic was not happy at having been given the task of accompanying them. He didn't complain but Eris had learned the subtle body language inherent to her adopted people. Yar was positively brimming with fury and humiliation.Although Adam figured that even if repairs were made in the estimated ten days that they would have half again that many before Lassiter would abandon them on Dorath, Yar made it clear that they would be back at the Astinato before sunset on day ten of their search.The weighed themselves down with packs as light as they could manage and set out across the grasslands.The silver needle that Adam enchanted to point in the direction he had last visited while here at least got them going in the correct direction. The trip was south and so they hiked as long as they could each day with

Adam flying out in long reconnaissance flights to see if he could find the first gate. Two days had passed with nothing to show for it. Even the needle, upon re-enchanting it following sunrise, showed little variation. Given the thickness of the mountains to the west, Adam expected it to start swinging slightly in that direction as the grew closer. But the enchantment was not terribly precise at pointing to places he had no great familiarity with. For all he knew he was pointing towards where the slaver ship had come down as opposed to the point where he followed its fleeing crew into the mountains.He took longer and longer flights each day, hoping to see the needle shift significantly. It was tiring but also strangely therapeutic. Being by himself, flying over the broken grasslands with its intermittent, scrubby trees and scattered wildlife, was calming. It gave him time to think. And although magic and spellcraft were not something he had more than a few years experience with, he began getting ideas for new ways to tap the arcana majiere.Most arcanists (and spellswords, for that matter) crafted their own incantations. They worked on the formulae and mental exercises needed to tap the elemental energies native to Talvali. Elemental crystals, relatively common, could help tap that energy and even fuel some spells. He'd had an air crystal, once, but had lost it in a fight. The spellsword who had trained him, initially, eschewed them."Never put your faith, or your power, in anything but your own hands," he'd advised.It was good advice.As such, Adam had focussed on developing spells that could help him in his travels based upon his own observations of how he interacted with the arcana majiere field.What he wanted most, right now, was a way to conjure a work horse.Whether flesh-and-blood or a construct of arcane energy, he knew it would be insanely useful. If not for him, then for any associates who travelled with him.As he returned to the group--Eris, Irri, Kaia, and Yar--at sundown on their third day, seeing the exhaustion on their faces only drove the point home. Using his spellcraft for the betterment of his companions was crucial.Kelmore had stayed behind. Despite his insistence, despite all his fire and passion, his wounds and blood loss had been too severe. He could call upon Neiros' blessings to heal, and he had, but even accelerated, he would not be fully recovered for a couple days. And while proud enough to push on anyway, Kaia had finally convinced him to wait for their return because to do otherwise would have slowed them all down. That had convinced her brother to grudgingly let them go.That and the fact that even if they had waited for him, they'd have lost precious time.Adam reflected that, by now, Kelmore would doubtless be fully hearty and hale:  annoying Lassiter and the rest of the Astinato crew."What did ye see?" asked Yar. He didn't display any great disdain, not in expression or tone, but Adam knew it was there. "Any game, nearby?"Adam slowed from his running landing to a stop and folded his wings. "Wild pigs, I think; about six miles south-southeast."Yar nodded. "Headed in which direction?""Everywhere but under the flying dragon." Adam had to laugh at the memory of buzzing the animals. "But I think they were headed northwards."Yar didn't respond but continued in what tasks he had been doing when Adam came back. It looked like he was bundling large swaths of dry grass for a fire. Eris had already laid out a ring of fire-resistant smokecloth while Irri dug a narrow trench around it."No sign of the gate, then?" Kaia asked.Adam shook his head. "No; not as far as I could see."She sighed and nodded."Why does your brother really want this so much?" Eris asked.Kaia looked over at the tahvic with disdain on her features. "What does it matter to you? You'll get paid either way.""You know Adam's just as interested as Kelmore," she answered."I wouldn't say that," Adam said. He fielded their silent looks with another emphatic denial. "Seriously:  I'm over it!""Then why don't you talk about what's got you so spooked?" Eris asked.Adam shook his head, aping a disbelieving nonchalance. He went to their packs and began removing cooking pots and dried meat and roots.The truth was he'd been growing increasingly anxious the longer their journey went. And it wasn't stress over seeing the arches again. It wasn't even a stress rooted in the memory of the spectral face of his father. To the contrary, he was starting to get afraid he'd never find it; never find any answers.And that was the problem at the core of Talvali:  answers.He had none.Why had the storms ripped chunks of Earth out of his world into the skies of this?What caused the storm dragons to come?What reason was there behind his transformation?These questions were echoed throughout the world; these and an infinite sky's worth, more. There was more personal power, here, but less political. Kellendar was the one democratic state in a world of hundreds of kingdoms. But even here, people had less influence than he'd had back home. But with a world that had a common culture of travel and seeking adventure, it was surprisingly liberating. It offered promise of answers even under the weight of all those questions. All people had to do was step outside their door and take a risk. It was at the heart of every fable and story:  even the tragedies.Was that why this was so important to him:  that he had a question to which he could risk finding an answer?Maybe despite his age...He sighed, shaking his head. Nothing would change his age; not really. His body may be young and looking at hundreds of years to go but he was middle-aged where it counted.He looked at Eris and sighed. He still hadn't asked her.Adam's eyes drifted to Yar and, abruptly, he had a solution.Dinner was alternately hot and cold:  nestled between the gusts of damp wind and the crackle of their campfire. Adam had strewn enchantments around their camp to alert them if any predators stalked too close. At least the snows had failed to materialize as Lassiter had warned. As Eris and Kaia got into their third argument of the day about the proper way to store arms and armor when in open weather, Adam quietly approached Yar."You'll be wantin' to start early, tomorrow, eh?"Adam nodded. "I'll wake you before I take flight."The tahvic snorted approval."Yar, uh, how old are you?"The first mate squinted and cocked his head, looking up at the tall, gangly dragonkin. "Why'd y' want t' know that? Think I'm showin' my age?""Oh, no:  no! It's just, well, I don't know much about tahvic. I guess I was just ... curious."Brown eyes glistening in the firelight, Yar nodded. "You can't find out much by associatin' with a newcomer," he said, glancing at Eris.Adam feigned shock. "Eris? No... No! Not at--""What's 'er name, then?" Yar asked.Adam blinked. "Eris; you know--""What's all of 'er name?"The question surprised Adam more because he was sure he'd asked but hadn't thought about it in a long time. She was just "Eris":  the only person who really had any inkling what he had been going through. She was young, sixteen when they'd come through the storms, but...He knew she had to have told him..."Cook!" he finally said, embracing the memory. "Eris Cook!"Yar nodded. "No self-respectin' tahvic would ever put her given name before her family name."Adam blinked. "Wait, you mean you're family name isn't 'Yar'?""Nope," Yar said. "And I'll be thanking you to not be so familiar wit' me. Th' crew c'n call me that but strangers," here, he gave Adam a narrow look, "should call me Caulmal Yar." After a moment of letting that sink in, he nodded, again, in Eris' direction. "That's jus' one way I know she's not a native."He frowned, thinking about it.How obvious must he be--must both of them be--in this alien world? True, the transformative breath of the dragons made them sort of fit-in but how much of their daily behavior was like a blazing comet in a field of stars? Thinking about it, he realized it must have been obvious to anyone who met them and spoke with them for any real length of time.It was a bit ... embarrassing."I'm 37," Yar said. "Bein' on the Astinato is fifth job I ever had; second on a ship. Good career, too; bein' a raider." He looked at Adam as if trying to tease out his buried thoughts. "But what you wanna really ask is how much longer do I have. Is that it?""How did you know?" Adam, without realizing it, was speaking in hushed tones."It's what all you non-tahvic wan' t' know. 'Cept for the terrmorah, that is; they live about as long as us.""It's ... not long, is it?"Yar suddenly looked offended. "It's a life:  that's as long as anyone gets! What matters is what y' do with it!" He shook his head. "Humans ... thaylene:  they all live--what--seventy or eighty years?"Adam shrugged. He honestly didn't know what the average lifespan was, here. Medical technology wasn't anywhere near as advanced but magic filled in a lot of the gaps. "Back home it was, well, at least that ... if you stayed healthy."Yar nodded. "You were human."Adam confirmed it."And so was she?"Again, Adam nodded."Tahvic," he said at last, "live t' be fifty. Maybe, if'n we're lucky, sixty ... at most."The math, his lifelong friend and ally, jumped to life in his mind. Without wanting to he had the answer:  two thirds. Eris' life had been cut to two-thirds of what it should have been. And every year that passed was an extra few steps to the grave. Even magics purchased by the wealthiest aristocrat or crafted by the most skilled arcanist had trouble extending life too much longer than its natural span. And Eris must have figured that out about the same time Adam had learned about his own adopted race's lifespan.He looked at Eris and felt a sudden drop in the pit of his stomach."None of that," Yar snarled. "Trust me:  no tahvic--native or newcomer--wants anyone treatin' 'em like something fragile. You think she's weak?"Adam shook his head. "Of course not, but--""Then don't feel sorry for her. She's doing what every good tahvic does:  she's livin' her life. Got it?"Slowly, the dragonkin nodded.He understood.Dawn came with a light dusting of snow. Frost tinted the waving grasses and covered the lean-to's the others had erected the previous night. Adam did not take off right away. Instead, he quickly stoked their bonfire with his breath and added a few more bundles of grass. After a quick flight to a nearby, wind-twisted tree, he added a few extra branches to the fire. One pot, some water, and handful of leaves, later, and he had approximated some tea. By then, everyone was awake.He didn't say anything and kept his gaze from lingering on Eris.An hour later, and with a salute to Yar, he finally took off, resuming his search of the first gate.Today, flight was not as satisfying as the preceding days. He was getting used to flying for prolonged periods, though, and only needed to stop maybe once every hour for a ten-minute rest. He was a long way from being able to fly from continent to continent but he was proud of his progress, nonetheless. Looking back on the last six years of his life, he realized he should have been flying every day. When he had been a kid, he would have revelled in the ability.Another thing that reminded him that he wasn't a child anymore.But part of being an grown-up, at least in mind, was knowing you could find answers or at least manufacture some. That was his saving grace.By midday, the skies had cleared and the temperature risen. Far above, at least a dozen miles, two lightlands drifted lazily. Off to the east he could see the edge of a dayland and two cloudlands several miles above them. As they all drifted west to east with the winds of Talvali's northern hemisphere, the higher-up lands tended to move more slowly and, so, it looked like Kellendar (and, by extension, Dorath) was catching up.Eating a dried pork roll for midday, he resumed flight until something caught his eye.He banked, sunwards, and down. The light warmed his wings as he came closer.A long swath of grasslands were burned:  scorched to ash and cold cinders. At the edge of the mile-long field, though, were the skeletal remains of a torched airship.The Amberglass.He felt a shiver

of recognition. Whatever had happened after it had crashed, these was definitely the corpse of the slaver's vessel. And if that were the case, he knew where to look.While his travels overland had been long and torturous, this time it was fairly swift.He also had to backtrack over several areas that he had sworn were empty. But the rise and patchwork twisting of the foothills beneath the cliffs did a great job of simultaneously looking all alike and hiding the first arch. But within ninety minutes, he had found it.Landing, he looked up at the towering stone structure and nodded, feeling a sense of relief.Part of him wanted, right then, to fly up to the second gate:  to look at what was there. But, at the same time, he knew that would be rash. It was clearly a magical site and although he had a good knowledge of arcane power he was no expert and didn't feel comfortable braving it, alone. Rather, word had to be sent to Kelmore.The gate, despite its broken and missing upper arch, was here.It would take the rest of the group at least a day, maybe two, to get here. Then, even climbing the rather well-preserved stairs, it would be another day to get to the top. In short, a day longer--maybe two--than they had. It would be even longer if they waited for Kelmore to catch up to them.Unless...He picked up one of the crumbled, fist-sized stones at the base of the left spire. It felt solid and smooth in his hand. It looked like it had originally been carved to resemble a tooth in the arch. It was all the proof he needed.Invoking magic to instill strength upon himself and ward off exhaustion was like taking a high-interest loan on his future, physical health, but it was necessary.The skies to the north clear and sunny, he sped on his way, reflexively pleased that he was behaving like an adult.