We made it to Mango island that day at sunset, and it was all I could do to hang on the whole way, a task Sage considered an adequate replacement for my training. Once we hit the harbor—and by that I mean the boat was beached awkwardly, which got Sage to swear up a storm—Sage handed me a few pasties we had and gave me the rundown on what we were about to do there.

Only after I asked him, though.

Already done his food, Sage stretched and cracked his neck, sighing. “Well in case you forgot, I told Basil that we’d meet here since it’s neutral territory. He knows the way. Besides, I know this place well.”

Between mouthfuls of food, I asked, “We’ll just be waiting here then?”

“No,” Sage said, with a smirk. “Not anymore, at least. No, now that we know Cashew’s got all sorts of rogues and pirates employed in their army, we should probably see if anyone here needs our help. Mango is like a home away from home for me, and I’d rather its people not get killed from a bunch of well armed buffoons ready to plunder everything in sight.”

“How noble of you,” I said, sarcastic.

Sage ruffled my hair and sighed. “Why thank you.” He began walking across the beach, but before he got to where the trees grew he said, “Well, come on, it’s nearly nightfall and we have some ground to cover.” So I followed him, wiping my hands clean of pastie crumbs on my cloak.

The forestry of Mango was incredibly different from what I had seen on both Durian and Avocado. The trees weren’t a tall affair, nor were they the tremendous conifers of my homeland. They were instead what Sage called a star tree, which made sense to me as the trees were topped with a bush of green in the shape of a traditional star shape, and the trunks were naked and curved without any branches to speak of. There were no huge animals or crazy creatures like the behemoth on Durian. Instead, flocks of birds filled the sky, and I saw a great big bird with a beak larger than most animals digging in the dirt vigorously, then poking its head out and looking around as if in shame. There were also some smaller rodents such as rabbits and mice, but I didn’t see too many of them. Much to my pleasure, the scent of the sea carried itself across the tiny island, which kept me in higher spirits than usual. Something about that smell seems to have that effect on people, no matter how tired of it you may think you are, you’re never too overexposed to that smell. It’s always nice.

On the short trek through the forest of star trees, I asked Sage about the Orange Archipelago since he wasn’t busy flying through the air for once.

“What do you want to know?” Sage asked, maintaining his speed and forcing me to walk in step with him. For a man who claimed I was done training, he sure was accustomed to making me work hard.

“Well, when I was learning about the lands of our world back home, there wasn’t much information about any of the Orange islands. In fact, they didn’t have separate names as you’ve called them, they’re just called the Orange Archipelago in my book.”

“Your book is out of date,” Sage said with a chuckle. “The Archipelago as a home is a relatively new concept.”

“That makes sense.”

Sage nodded. “The archipelago has been inhabited since it was a single island eons ago, just not by a society in the way you and I are familiar with. These days, however, the islands of Mango and Tangerine specifically are the ones that house families that descend from civilians who had to escape the mainland due to war.”

“Which war?” I asked.

Looking grim, Sage just said, “Many wars, not just one. I expect that there should be more people staying here than last I was here, since Cashew seems to be acting recklessly.” He gave the last part venom, and I could feel his anger flare up just from talking about it.

The civilian makeup of the land wasn’t quite what was interesting to me though. “So why did you start coming here?”

“What?” Sage barked, then he breathed deeply and calmed down.

“Why’d you start coming here?” I repeated, but Sage didn’t seem interested in answering me. Sighing, I tried again, “Well alright. Then how about this; who owns this place? Is there a king or something? Since it’s not a real country and all.”

“Oh it’s a real country, boy,” Sage drolled. “It’s a land that has more need for order than any other, really.” I asked why. “Well, simply put, with all the different sorts of people around here, there could be cause for internal conflict among the denizens of the islands. Some people could be running from the war between Cashew and Avocado, for instance. Let’s say they’re from Cashew, and they come here and they end up meeting someone who also ran away from Avocado. They could see reason to hate each other, and inadvertently bring the war they sought to leave back here to this haven. So a legal system exists here, with a king overseeing the whole deal.”

“That’s interesting,” I said, massaging my aching neck and shoulders. “So where’s the king live? Seeing as he’s in charge of the archipelago I’d assume he lives in the center.”

Sage smiled but shook his head. “No, though you are correct that he must remain impartial. That’s why he doesn’t live on any one island. He lives where he lives, and he rules using a system of warriors that could be considered an army themselves.”

“You don’t say.”

“I do,” Sage said. “They’re called the nine seeds or slices, nine warrior units on the nine islands who strive to keep the peace. They each have messengers, who mingle back and forth to keep the king in the loop. The king also has his own system of information gathering throughout the mainland to keep up on whether or not there will be more residents on their way to the islands. At least,” he added somewhat sheepishly, “I believe that’s how it goes.”

“Sounds complicated,” I said. “I’d probably just organize the islands so that the different nationalities lived on different islands, seeing as there’s enough islands to go around for that.”

“Well aren’t you smart?” Sage mocked. “Your derision of their hierarchy is duly noted, however, in case you haven’t noticed we’re technically war refugees ourselves. So how about you just let it be and enjoy the company of the world. This is also a great opportunity for you.” I blinked at that and looked up at him quizzically. “This is one of the few places in the world where people are gathered this way. You may find yourself learning more and more about the places you know nothing about, all here on this island. Use the opportunity wisely.”

Excited, I asked, “So instead of training my body, I train my mind?”

Sage laughed heartily at that. “Of course not,” Sage said. “You’ll be training just as hard, if not harder.”

With that news, I frowned much of the rest of our walk, which became a brisk jog, to the settlement in the island’s center. It was probably better that we didn’t slow down. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want a break.

Once we made it to the settlement, I had no time to contemplate how hard the next day would be. The sky had darkened into the deep blue of night, though it was lit by torches as well as the stars and moon. There were many houses built sporadically about, each small enough to have presumably the essentials and nothing else. Space between homes was a luxury, and there weren’t streets but alleyways created by uneven rows of homes. We scraped between two buildings, toward what Sage said was the square of the town, which he called Kiyomi.

We made it through the alley, and once we got to the square I finally saw the people of the settlement and saw what Sage was getting at with the diversity of people. Some of them looked completely different to what I was accustomed, in every aspect from clothes to colors to size. There were a few that looked like they came from Avocado, which helped me feel less out of place, if only a little. What was surprising was how many people recognized Sage.

“How’s it going?”

“Hey look, Sage is back!”

“Back again, I see. How are you?”

There were even more whispers regarding me. I was confused, but I didn’t have much time to think on it.

Sage led us to a home that was larger than the others, though not by much. Like every other building there, it was made from a strange earthy substance combined with the leaves and trunks of the star trees. Everything here looked natural, unedited by the touch of man. It almost felt like we were still outside, despite the sounds of people talking being almost gone when we entered.

“This is my home here,” Sage said, walking over to the fire pit in the middle of the single room. He bent down and snapped his fingers together, causing a spark to fall and start a warm fire in the embers. The room lit up and I could see that outside of the fire, there was nothing, not even blankets to sleep with. “It’s not much,” he said. “But it will do for a while.”

I asked, “So what do we do now?”

“Now? You can sleep, I’ve got some business to attend to.” Sage removed his cloak and went to leave, when I jolted toward him, hastily grabbing his arm.

“Hey, you can’t just drop me off here and leave without even saying where you’re going,” I said, a little worried. Being alone in a strange new place sounded dreadful, and the harsh accomodations were not making me feel comfortable.

“I’m not commanding you to sleep,” Sage said, eyes narrowed. They glowed with a mild brightness, and my heart started to beat faster. “You may explore here, just don’t go off too far. Sleep would be better anyway.”

“Fine,” I sighed, bit my lip. “But why not let me know what you’re doing? I’ve a right to know.”

“Actually, my boy, you don’t,” he said. Then he ripped his arm away and left me without a trace or a clue as to what we were really doing there.

For a time, I paced around that stark room with a desperate cadence, breathing in and out with a stilted rhythm only achievable when the unconscious action of staying alive becomes conscious, the automation of livelihood now a deliberate, voluntary action, and the room spun with me while I tried to get a hold of myself. I’d never realized just how important having company was in my life, how much the safety of familiarity kept me from going absolutely wild, until that moment.

Bursting from the little shanty with a force that nearly blew the door off what might have been hinges in a country with coin, I looked from left to right and left and back, searching for any sign of Sage in those slanted alleyways.

I don’t recall the direction I picked; perhaps it was random.

What I do remember were the faces I passed, their emotions worn plainly in a show of confusion that may have mirrored myself, I’m not sure. The way my head remembers moments like these are always wild, everything is so exaggerated, so unreasonable; faces float on cloudy bodies; the alley becomes narrow and more narrow, evermore; the buildings rise and warp and enclose; I wasn’t okay.

You might say it was an overreaction, reading something like this. It’s not something I often recount for that reason. For it was an overreaction, the feelings elevated because of one reason or another. If you want my opinion, it was a number of things. I was young, still very much new to the world outside, and it was a stressful time in my life. By this point, whether or not I knew it I’m unsure—probably not, though—I was entirely reliant on Sage for everything. Seeing him leave me like this was in a way the straw which snapped the serpent’s fangs.

Most of all, though, I’m just poorly adjusted to being alone. My wife can attest to that, poor woman has to put up with my annoying banter constantly so I can remind myself she’s there, and I’m fine.

So I ran. I ran and ran, and after a while my memory clears up and I find I’m out of breath, leaning against one of those shanty homes, with no one visible to me. But through the walls I hear a voice, and I know it to be Sage, and I’m unsure how I found him, whether I asked or just saw him and followed I’m not really sure. There he was, though, speaking clear as day.

“...to say, honestly. I mean it’s not really the right time to ask something like that.”

“But you’re sure?” a gruff, masculine voice asked. It wasn’t as deep as Sage’s but it was hard, and gave me military vibes.

“As sure as I can be, given what I know,” Sage said, sounding very unsure. “How about here, things going fine?”

“As fine as they can be,” the man snorted. “They need leadership.”

“And you’re a fine leader.”

I leaned up against the wall more, pressing my ear so deeply into the wood it surprised me that it didn’t give me splinters.

“Not fine enough. When are you leaving?”

“Soon, there’s just one thing though. I’m leaving the boy here.”

And I backed up, shocked. Then I quickly stumbled back and tried eavesdropping more. Sage was still talking.

“...good for him, though. Honestly he’s a good kid, but his head is messy. Sticking around here will be good for him. Just make sure…”

Then their voices trailed off, like they were walking away, and I skittered off down an alley in an attempt to get back home. Problem was, I never had to navigate before. I was lost, but at that point I was so emotionally drained that I didn’t care what happened to me. Once I made a couple wrong turns, I found myself sitting down, back against the wall of some building behind me. I heard someone snoring loudly through the walls, and felt an odd comfort in the sound.

I dozed off for a moment, and was in the state between consciousness and sleep when I was picked up by my cloak by Sage.

He was carrying me already when I asked him, “How did you find me?”

“I looked, that’s all,” he said, monotonous; cold. He sounded angry. “What were you doing out?”

Yawning, I held tight to his arm and said, “Looking for you.”

With those words, so simple and true, Sage couldn’t help but smile.