Hundreds of ropes rattled as the Goldfish braved the skies. Thin clouds stretched by the wind raced alongside the ship, revealing the patterns and movements of the wind.

Obi held the helm steady and let the fins of the Goldfish rest on the breeze as Obi mentaly marked down the angle of the tilt.

Up ahead the clouds were swirling around in lazy cyclones. The path from the Tropicaz to the Viverte Archipelago were known for turbulent and unpredictable winds as wet and dry, hot and cold, clashed against one another.

With confidence Obi turned the helm. The steering sails at the sides of the Goldfish turned like fins, navigating the outside of the spirals so the ship could ride the circular momentum and be catapulted forward. Obi could feel the skin on his cheeks crack and his hair straightened out as all the moisture of the Tropicaz was blown away.

The Goldfish was a long, sleek, one deck, racer sloop. Its rich dark wood reeked of sap oil and tar. Red sails with glistening solar threads fanned out over the ship held up by a complex network of nets and ropes. In the middle of the ship stood a gnarled tree with green-golden leaves, the box of soil going below to the one big open space the crew had for cooking, cargo and sleeping. It could be a bit claustrophobic at times living on the ship and privacy was out of the question. But Obi was a sailor through and through, not minding in the slightest as Captain Selma took a leak on the Heart Tree in broad daylight.

Next to the helm was a lever, a foot pedal, and a few instruments secured to wooden railing. A time seed gradually turning purple and two glass tubes each with their own liquid and markings, one displaying air density and the other how high up they were in relation to the world's storm core.

"What's the latitude now?"

The navigator peeped out from a trapdoor at Obi. She was a peculiar woman, always wearing headscarves with map prints and with small wood framed glasses clipped on her long pointy nose.

"Seven point fiftythree marks, miss Mina!"

The navigator disappeared and soon returned after quickly matching the numbers to the ones she had asked for a few ticks ago.

"We are ascending too slowly. I say go up by point eleven marks in the next four ticks and by all calculations we should pass the island of Nim as planned."

"Leave it to me!"

Mina grumbled something intelligible and shut the door to her worlds of maps and numbers.

It was a fair window of time for Obi to plan out a route and work his craft. Bit by bit he pulled up the lever at his side that tightened the ropes to give the tree more energy to pull the ship upwards. The crew's woodsman, a grizzled veteran with a great red beard and a peg leg, would regularly check up on the ship, putting his ear to the heart tree and the floorboards, signalling a comforting thumbs up to let Obi know all was clear. It was so much nicer working with the woodsman from behind the wheel and not scrubbing the wood under red beard Balthazari's command. Obi had quickly decided to wrap his hands to cover his blisters before starting his shift.

"Ship ahead! Ship ahead! The Narwhal is within sight, captain!" Iffa bellowed from the lookout, pointing with his whole arm.

Selma got out her telescope and followed Iffas direction.

"Indeed. The storm at Rhumm did a number on our competitors."

Obi jumped and clapped his feet together with excitement. "We are first! We must be leading in time! Do you think we can pass the Narwhal?"

The crew buzzed at the news, congratulating and hugging one another.

"Keep your eyes on the price crew. I won’t be satisfied until I hold the gold in my hands. The race has just begun.”

"Captain, yes captain!"

Obi could feel his senses sharpen as the dark speck in the distance grew closer. Seeing the competition gave him a clear goal to strive for. The Goldfish groaned as it tilted and turned through the wind carousels.

“Captain, requesting permission to use the solar boosters.”

“Negative. I know you want to catch up but the boosts are to be used in case of emergency or significant situations.”

“But- “

Selma shot Obi a glare from under her tricorn hat. He managed a weak whimper but knew to not argue with the captain. To keep all his extra energy in check Obi began to whistle a tune and stomp his feet.

“What I keep telling you, my little brother was born under a storm. Storm children ain’t got a calm bone in their bodies!”

“Oi! How can you even hear us from up there! And keep your eyes on the sky.” Obi weakly defended himself though he could hear Iffa laugh at him from the tree crown, but as soon as Obi once again had the Narwal in sight did he forget to be annoyed at his brother and once again stomped his feet to his own rhythm.

Obi felt something growing warm in his pocket, the sails tugged upwards as a draft pushed the Goldfish skywards. He saw his opportunity and pulled down on the lever next to him, the ship shaking at the turbulence and felt his ears block at the rapid ascent.

“Island of Nim in sight captain!”

A cry of joy could be heard from below deck and the navigator scrambled up on deck.

“Is it true? Oh bless me. Can you see the statue of the summoner Nim?”

“Aye. Big stone guy with his arms open wide right ahead.”

“What’s so exciting about the statue?” one of the less experienced cabin boys asked to which the woodsman immediately shook his head.

“Oh here we go… “

“What is not exciting about the statue! It has the exact coordinates of its location. A massive feat that had the sciences of astronomy, catogeraphy and mathematics come together. By observing an eclipse from three locations and using triangulation- “

Goudi stepped in and put his timber of an arm over Mina's shoulder. “Hurray for that! Come on now crew, we all should know the shanty ‘A Maiden From Nim’. In a land faraway of apples and gold, oh-hey-ho!.”

Obi joined in the singing that had the ship work in a light but militaristic tempo, bobbing his head while riding on the winds past the Nim island, it looked like a mountain had been dug out of the earth and now floated in the sky with a lush green belt of forest and orchards dividing it by the middle.

On the side of the mountain overlooking a picturesque town stood a massive statue of the summoner who had reached ascension and fished the new land out of the storm core five years ago.

Balloons with tourists circled around the mountain, clapping and cheering as the Goldfish sailed hot on the Narwhals tail.

This close Obi could see all the details of their long time rival. The Narwhal was of a sleeker model than the Goldfish, painted a pristine white and with a long spiraling horn at the front. They too had had to slow down slightly to navigate the busy sky and plan their next move.

Obi had passed Nim multiple times and seen the island grow quickly and gather up songs and sailors tales. It was a city for travelers right in the middle of a trafficked route between the central continent Dar'Charta and the higher latitude Viverte Archipelago and the snowy lands beyond. Migrating birds and butterflies had taken to rest at the newborn island on their seasonal voyages. Every time Obi sailed by he marveled at all the new buildings and additions to the island, the most recent completed projects had been the statute of Nim and the wind gates.

The wind gates had been established by the blessing of Valefor, the aeon of the jet streams. They were localized streams that sent ships flying with much more force than the carousel rides Obi had just navigated. Merchant ships moved in slow loops waiting for their turn to pass the gates, and between them, the balloons and their rival the sky around Nim was somewhat claustrophobic to navigate.

"Captain, should we slow down and wait for an opening?" Obi asked while casusly turning the rodder.

"We either force our way in or continue on our way without passing a gate, either way I trust you can handle it without losing momentum. Iffa! Do you spot an opening?"

Selma stood with a straight back and spoke with calm confidence. Obi was determined to not disappoint his crew.

"It's pretty crowded. A slow cruise ship is heading to the upper gate, they'd hate us for it but we could slip in. However the Narwhal is heading straight for it!"

"Permission to use the solar boosters, captain!"

"Granted. Let's bully the Narwhal out of their one chance to catch up. I trust you are confident you can manage this maneuver, Obi."

With a grin plastered on his face Obi began to pump a pedal next to the rodder. The crown of the heart tree sparked and the solar sails glowed with sunlight.

"Hold on everyone!"

This was the moment Obi had been waiting for, all his excess energy now coming to aid him as he weaved the Goldfish through the throng towards the upper wind gate. The grand cruiser cast its shadow over the ship as Obi lined up for a final burst.

"Obi! On our left!" Iffa called out with panic in his voice.

The Narwhal had out matched the Goldfish in speed, their own sails shining bright as they moved in, trapping the Goldfish against the hull of the cruiser. Obi could feel the ends of the side sails bump against the cruiser, the Narwhal coming in at an angle just ahead of the Goldfish daring Obi to ram ahead.

Obi bit his tongue and slammed down on the latitude lever, sending the Goldfish high up into the air and ripping through one of the outermost sails of the cruiser. The Narwhal skipping on ahead and became a streak of white as it entered the wind gate.

Obi's heart beated fast in his chest. He resetted the lever position and slumped over the helm. The lights in the sail flickered out.

Of course the Narwhal would take them in that situation, it was practically built for close quarters racing. If Obi had not pulled up his options would have rammed into one ship or the other, and down below was only even more ships to crash into.

"Good sailing Obi. Go get a meal and some sleep. You will need the rest for the night shift."

Captain Selma sounded more resigned than disappointed. Obi knew no one wanted to win this race more than her but she was also too pragmatic to be mad at him. After all she had suggested from the beginning that they might skip the wind gates all together, and even if they did not pass the Narwhal they still should be in the lead, but these logical thoughts did little to lighten the stones in Obi's stomach.

The first helmsman gave Obi a hardy pat on the back before taking over and letting him retreat below deck.

It was a dry and calm space. The light and sounds of the outside felt far away and muffled in the cozy world of the hold. Over in the cooking sand stood a large pot steaming with a tropical curry with banana, pineapple and lentils. Obi sulked over to the pot, taking in the fruity aroma.

"Enjoy while you can. In’t always we get such nice, fresh produce onboard. Tho if you miss tack an’ dried bird you'll not have to wait long."

To the side sat the cook mindlessly drying off bowls with a cloth. The cook was a weathered woman with braided black hair and with a chipped horn in the middle of her forehead that resembled a polished opal, which was also her chosen name.

Opal poured up a bowl of curry while Obi moved one of the floorboards to grab a coconut, the draft from the wind making for a natural cooler. He thanked the cook kindly and slowly sipped on the warm, sweet and spicy curry, warming him from the inside out. It was a bit odd to eat food so sweet and he found the fruit to be a bit too mushy, not that he would ever think to voice his criticism. When half done with his bowl Obi was just moving his spoon back and forth. He felt heavy and sick with guilt. There were so many ways he could have done better, and many more ways where he could have very well doomed them all.

While staring into his curry he remembered the sensation of something hot in his pocket earlier that day. He dug around with his clawed fingers and fished up the glass figurine he had been gifted at the beginning of the race. Nothing seemed odd about it except for how it glimmered in the low light. The shifting sunrise colours reminded him of his adventures. To think that just a few days ago he had been riding on an avatar of Tiamat together with a summoner, a princess and a sharp shooting eloquere. Obi felt butterflies play in his stomach as he thought about getting to soon meet Risha again, if only for a short while before he again had to take off.

In a makeshift office sandwiched between crates the navigator could be heard grumbling as she sat hunched over black parchments and books spread over a low table.

Obi pocketed the figurine and scarfed down the last of his meal before making his way over.

"What are you working on? Thought the road to be pretty straight forward now." Obi ventured, really just looking for some easy company.

Mina looked like a cat who had drunk vinegar and sounded like one too.

"Central, Rhumm, Nim, Rozzaria. Pretty straight forward perhaps but you'd be surprised how easily a ship gets lost. But no, I'm currently not running calculations for our position. As one of the few people on board with a higher education, naturally all bookkeeping and letter writing this ship needs falls upon me."

Mina sighed heavily and continued.

"Can you believe I gave up my position at the astronomical society for this. For this!"

“Ey Mina, you think they gots good prices on salt there in Rozzaria? I do so enjoy the Golden Circuit, visitin’ so many places at harvest season, but I think we are runnin’ a bit low on the staples.”

“The city of chains won’t have anything good except for wine and trouble. We wait until we sail by Atoli, they have a whole deserts of coral and salt.”

“Aye, but it does not taste as well as mountain salt! But I’ll trust you are workin’ hard managin’ the treasury. I’ll get a bowl for you, you seem to be needin’ it.”

Mina muttered their thanks as Opal served up a big steaming bowl.

Obi decided to litter around and leaned on the table, his gaze scanning over neat scribblings and numbers written in white ink. He was by no means a capable reader, but he understood enough of it when he concentrated. On the top of a list in the banking book he recognized the name of Rhumm and was struck by the memory of a promise.

"Could you help me write a letter?"

Obi sat up and innocently twiddled his thumbs.

"Do I look like I got time for that?"

"Yes?"

Mina took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. With a heavy sigh she answered;

"Fine. What do you want to write?"