A Spark in the Wind

Chapter 20: The Oracle

With every step they took, their vigour seemed to seep out at an increasing rate, yet their journey felt nowhere near its end, or maybe it was the nature of the world they were in. No longer was Mey fond of this world, part of him wanted to leave already.

"I know what it is you want," Vil replied, "for it is also in my mind, albeit a little less so, for I am used to deserts more than you are."

"I don't think it is homesickness," Mey replied, "more like I am tired, also it's just the uncanny feeling I get here."

"I can understand," Vil replied, "but believe me, once you glance at the other worlds, this realm will seem much closer to home."

"What other worlds exactly? Like Alímar or Vyro? They feel much different?"

"They are also closer to home," Vil replied, "the rest of Mundus is things you cannot fathom: dead planets dominated by fungal wights, gas giants ruled by living storms, sunless worlds of dark and death and mile-deep ice layers, lava seas where fire giants thrive . . . those are but some of the myriad of worlds which make up the web of Mundus. Should you ever on your interdimensional barge set to sail, be unsurprised to look upon them."

Mey shuddered, Vil was right: he could not fathom such things, who knew if Vil was even making all of it up? He couldn't. "Well, I guess I'll just keep to my little space," he replied, confused and terrified.

"Don't worry, you'll get to go home soon, we're there anyway," Vil pointed to a crevice before them, his eyes sharp and big spotted something bobbing to and fro.

"Finally," Mey sighed, after two days of laborious trekking they had finally reached the river: one of the points where the two kinds of rivers overlapped. There was water in the bottom, and white fumes atop it.

"Thankfully these gases aren't really harmful," Vil replied, "and no, I don't know what these gases are, I'm not good in chemistry."

"Well, at least we're spared a quick death," Mey walked up, taking a glance through the thick fog. A dinghy floated above it, swaying ever too gently in the current, ready to be sailed.

"Come on," said Mey, climbing over into the boat, Vil following with fear in his eyes. Mey looked at him and chuckled. "Scared of water, are you not?"

"No, scared of drowning," he replied. "You didn't see my face whilst we were flying over the seas, but I was terrified then, and I am terrified now."

Mey pushed the dinghy off the post, sailing with the current towards their destination. "Do not fear," he said, "the water's not that deep, and anyway, I can protect you."

Vil looked at him and smiled, a sense of security issuing over him.

...

For the next few hours they remained on water, sailing through the darkness blind and grim, until the wisps of white faded away and clear air replaced the dull pale shadows. Mey and Vil switched positions, Vil rowing whilst Mey sat on the edge.

Knowing there were no beasts in the waters, Meneldir lowered his hand into the cold waters, only for his vambrace to be wetted by the waves created by Vilyánur's oar. "Hey!" he complained, "you did that on purpose."

"No, I didn't," Vil innocently smiled.

Meneldir grinned back and let forth a splash of water upon his face. Vil responded with a stronger wave, and thus it spewed back and forth. "Alright, stop, I'm sorry," Mey stopped.

And so the peace returned, alien buzzards swept by the river, touching not the two as they kept on their path. Vil took up the oar and went back into the deck, his eyes closed and lips in touch with Mey's.