Chapter 39

Despite his misgivings after speaking with Edvard, Wil found himself becoming more excited about the prospect of reaching Lund. As the days quickly blended together, he took to raiding Quentin’s library for every scrap of information he could find on the isolated nation, the knowledge painting a picture of the continent that held more positives to him than negatives.

It seemed that it would be the perfect place for him to come into his own, an ideal challenge that would push his limits. Even though Wil had progressed quite significantly since leaving the Academy, he knew it was through his experience and confrontations with danger that led to his improvement, not any kind of natural talent.

If he wanted to control his own fate, and not be under anyone’s heel, then he needed to gain higher ranks in his own way, not through short cuts or deals laden with strings and conditions. Lund promised him a path forward, and if he could help his friends out at the same time, it was a win/win situation.

Wil’s time wasn’t wholly consumed with reading during the voyage. One of his first tasks was to stabilize his new, Rank 6 core. The turbulent mana within was still agitated from his advancement, making his spells slightly…unreliable, at times. It wasn’t until the third time he accidently ‘teleported’ from his bed to the top deck that he forced himself to stay in his cabin, meditating on calming the mana within him.

After a few weeks, he was able to adequately control his new Rank. According to the Compendium, the teleportation ability was a new ‘gift’ his higher rank had given him from his School of Conjuration. Allowing him to cross minor distances instantaneously, similar to ‘misty step’ but without having to consciously cast the spell.

This new ability did have its drawbacks. It was unreliable, sometimes it took hold immediately, while other times it took a second or two before it engaged, making it useless in a battle. Still, he had fun startling his friends, appearing behind them at random times.

The joke lasted until he made Quentin drop her teacup, and hurl a book at his head, from that point on, she had forbidden him from doing it on the Drake anymore.

Wil’s time was pleasantly full, and, before he knew it, a month had passed and the yellow sun was sinking low on the horizon, a brilliant sunset that had hues of orange and red streaking across the few clouds that remained overhead. The weather had held since they left Miquelon, the promise from Aruna holding strong.

Unlike the past nights, this one was completely uneventful. The little fleet of ships sailed unconcerned by starlight, the steady winds pushing them forward across the relatively calm Azure Sea. The Dragon Turtle, newly healed, had evidently brought peace back to this region of the sea, and the Drake had no issues at all, before the blue sun rose high overhead.

Having reviewed every book in Quentin’s library, and thoroughly annoying nearly everyone on board with his random ‘popping’ in and out of existence with his teleporting excursions, Wil alleviated his boredom in the second month with focusing on advancing his rank.

It had been when he was taking inventory of his few remaining items in his bag of holding, that he had pulled out the Golden Coin he had received from the Dragon Turtle’s “Inner Realm’. Like the Clockwork Owl, or the Compendium of spells, the coin was clearly a powerful magical item. Similar coins had worked miracles when he had been in Illyria, and he suspected this one would be no different.

While he studied the coin, while sat on his bed, he felt that familiar heat emanate from the item, working its way through his body and settling in the core. At the warmth, his mana spun and moved quicker, as if the heat were making the viscous, silvery mana more fluid and manageable.

Curious, Wil spent days in his room, sat on the floor of his cabin with the coin clutched firmly in his hand as he circulated his mana throughout his body, attempting to breakthrough to the next Rank. His mana core had become quite large at Rank 6, like a glittering diamond, its numerous facets reflecting the silver light of his mana it contained.

Each day, he felt himself progress just a hairsbreadth more to the next Rank with the coin’s assistance. Without the help of real-world experience or constantly using his magic, his mana was initially unresponsive to his efforts. But when he drained his core daily by using every spell, he was capable of while standing on the top deck and casting into the sea, his progress was remarkable.

By the time the second month passed, Wil was firmly on the cusp of another breakthrough, Rank 7 and Tier 4 spells just a fingertip out of his reach. He was sure, that with the right stimulus or fortuitous encounter, he would have no issue breaking through.

It was with that the Drake finally came in sight of Lund, the famous continent a hazy image in the distance.

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It wasn’t until they were here, that Wil and the others realized just how paranoid and isolated Lund was. They had been traveling for nearly 3 days, the shoreline of their destination firmly on their left, less than a mile away, and they were completely unable to make shore.

They passed communities and cities, fishing villages and bustling harbors, but were unable to dock at any. The Drake sailed pass, while Wil watched the people on shore go about their lives. He recalled a conversation they held when the first spotted land.

“Land HO!” A voice yelled from above, a sailor on the crow’s nest atop the center mast shouted his sightings to those below.

Rushing to the railing, Wil and the others gazed fervently out over the front bow, eager to finally see land after months at sea. Even Garman was excited, pounding Wil on the back as he shouted.

“Finally! Goddess’s saggy tits! I can’t wait to get off this gods’ forsaken tub.” Garman said, towering over Wil as he stood against the rail.

“You’ll still have a bit of a wait, Garman. We’ve got another week or more before we make it to the port.” Wil cautioned, looking out as the land became visible, a hazy blue blur in the distance.

“A week? I thought this place is packed to the gills with people. Let’s just stop at the first place we see, stretch our legs a bit. I’m sure the Boss can find something to buy wherever.” Mara asked from where she stood on his other side.

“Doesn’t work that way, unfortunately.” Quentin said, shaking her head. “We can only dock at the Foreigner’s Port.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Mara exclaimed, looking around at the others for an explanation.

“It’s the law here, only one port is open to non-locals, everyone is forced to trade there. Its one of the reasons I want a license.” Quentin said, looking at Wil as she said it. The young mage nodded at her in response.

The Drake, ignoring the shoreline, turned north as they followed the coastline, on their way to the ‘Foreigner’s Port’.

Lund’s laws were clear, any ship seeking to land at any of their ports were required to dock there. Anyone caught breaking that law, for any reason, faced strict punishments from the locals. Despite the strict requirements for docking, the Port promised to be a good trading hub, it was where Quentin’s father had traded for years. According to her, a lot of Lund’s basic goods and services were available, although the more profitable items wouldn’t be offered to them, not without a license.

Those with a license could dock elsewhere and had a much stronger negotiating power and variety of items offered, but as the saying went ‘beggars can’t be choosers’.

With the law clear, the Drake sailed for nearly a week before the “Foreigner's Port” came into view. From everything Wil had heard about it, he had to admit, it lived up to the hype.

The port was on an island, connected to the mainland by a heavily guarded, stone bridge. The island was covered in buildings, warehouses and trade buildings, markets stalls and inns. Taverns and restaurants were liberally sprinkled into the mix, and it seemed that entertainment and comfort was in as much demand as goods here.

It struck Wil as odd that there were fewer houses and lodgings for locals in the port, but Edvard assured him that they were on the mainland, on the other side of the bridge. It was for the ‘safety’ of the population, as well as to reduce the amount of space that were dedicated to housing them here. As an island, space was at a premium, and nearly every inch of land here was used for trade.

Jutting out from the island, dozens of long, stone and wood piers stretched into the waters, with hundreds of ships docked there, and dozens more making their way into the sheltered, island bay. Wil spotted Illyrian merchant vessels in the mix, but many more were completely foreign to him. It seemed the promise of trade had brought people from all over the world here, and Wil had never been more aware of his ignorance.

Docking at an empty pier that could fit the massive bulk of the Drake, the crew tied off long lines and placed the narrow gangplank to allow Wil and the others to walk across.

Finally, the Drake had arrived at Lund.