Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene IV

"You've brought the weather from the old world with you," chided Gelkin, in jest, as he sat on the beachy shore. The sand stretching out in front of him.

The weather wasn't especially bad; for Essen and the young ship's boy it was warm enough, but the wind was slightly blustery, and it marred the tropical calm that Gelkin had grown used to. As the three looked on admiringly at the small sailing boat that they'd finally finished making, the little monkey that was now their perpetual sidekick hopped around spritely. The boat, sat there in all its glory, was a treasure to behold. They'd even daubed it with a crude green paint, made from crushed plants. The stated idea being that it would help aid camouflage when out on the seas, or moored in some secluded cove. The real reason to make it even more beautiful than they already believed it was.

They'd christened it the "Coo-Cal", in reference to the tropical birds that inhabited the trees and skies of the island. Their constant call of "coo-cal, ca-coo-cal" being an ever-present chorus as they'd hammered and sawed their wooden vessel into shape. It wasn't quite as magnificent, nor as large as the Arbowlan, but it was a pleasing little sister to the now wrecked ship that had brought them so far from home. The hope now being that this pretty little homage would take them back.

Essen in particular was eager to return - almost to the point of agitation. His sense of duty. The dismal thought that he was sat peacefully on the outside, whilst war was raging back home, making it impossible for him to enjoy the pleasant surroundings. In contrast, Gelkin had an attitude completely the opposite. He'd left his old life for a reason, and had no intention of ever going back. Even having heard the latest news of war that his new friends had brought with them. He was also sceptical. The idea that the little boat, freshly hewn with their own hands, could make such a treacherous voyage being a wildly optimistic one. Here, the outside, was his home now, and as he sat on the warm damp sand he was relaxed and content in way that the standing Essen could never be.

The young boy fell somewhere in between. His sun-like disposition allowing him to tolerate adventure and non-adventure with equal measure. Like Essen, he too was definitely heading back. The thought that he would remain barely entering his head. The only question now being would the familiar little monkey follow him aboard the vessel when they left - it having took a shine to him even more so than it had to Gelkin. A question that didn't just concern the monkey's fate - the desire to take things back from this strange world as proof of its veracity a recurring topic in their planning.

As the final touches were being made for this return odyssey, Essen returned to the rudimentary shelter that had been his living quarters for the uncounted months. It looked even more primitive in contrast to the tiny, but perfected sailboat that would hopefully see them back to the civilised world. He quickly reappeared outside with Acalee's sailing charts. Somewhat miraculously they'd washed ashore, along with some other debris from the wreckage. They were worse for wear, but the small wooden box in which Acalee had kept them - a little vessel within a vessel - had protected them from the worst excesses of the seawater.

They were valuable not just for the information, but for their testimony. Essen had first-hand knowledge of the voyage, it was all there in his mind. He was even confident that he could navigate his way back unaided, but he knew that even in death Acalee's word would carry much more weight than his own. That the elaborate charts, etched in Acalee's own hand, would impress upon people more so than his own tales ever could. So the precious relic he now lodged in the Coo-Cal was grail-like as a cargo. It also carried with it the spirit of Acalee, and as he reminisced about his much-loved cousin he wondered if he would pass by his grave once more on the return.

Gelkin, in spite of not joining the voyage, added his own touch to proceedings. He'd planted a sapling of a tree in a wooden pot, which he strapped to the deck. It stood there towards the prow, almost like a plush green totem pole. It was unlikely that it would survive long into the sea journey, let alone the entire trek, but there was always the hope. That perhaps its strange fruit could be tasted on the shores of windy Brynnyfirdia. A delicious evidence to the world it had arrived from. A symbol of optimism, alongside all the other foodstuffs and provisions that had been loaded within the hopeful craft.

There was little ceremony as the two strangers that had washed up on the island climbed aboard to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" asked Essen with a grin, one last time. The fact that they were finally moving vanishing his restless nerves.

"No, I'm more than happy here ..just bring me back a woman."

Gelkin then helped ease the boat further into the water. The wind that his new friends had brought with them from the old picking up more as if to push them back. As he waded into the water the playful monkey hopped first onto him, then, using him as a springboard, onto the deck. A willing tagalong, completely oblivious to adventure lying before him. Gelkin sat back down on the sand and watched as the small boat slowly became a small dot in the distance. His calm and peace once again restored.