Set Sail

Set Sail

"Ferson, I need to talk to you," Zelnard said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I am older now, and I have learned so much. I met a healer at the dock. His name is Kazrod, and he is on a quest. I want to go with him. He's on a massive quest, and I know I can help. I already did. I used my powers to save him and..."

Ferson frowned, his old eyes narrowing with concern.

"Zelnard, stop. What are you babbling about? You are too young for such dangerous ideas and journeys away from Kefar. You are too young for adventures. You have barely begun your training. Come now, end your foolish talk and help me pack up."

Zelnard knew there would be no convincing Ferson. The old man was set in his ways, and he cared too much for Zelnard to let him go.

But Zelnard was determined.

He loaded the three remaining wheels of seaweed cheese onto their rickshaw and covered them with a damp cloth to keep them from drying out on the road home. As they began walking back through the city, Zelnard subtly guided their path toward the south gate instead of the north gate and the road to Zouken.

As he pulled the rickshaw with Ferson following behind, he slowly left the busiest part of Crystal Quay and headed toward the river that supplied the city.

"We should fill our flasks before heading back," Zelnard said.

The plan was already fixed in his mind, and it did not involve heading back to the monastery.

"Ferson, look!" Zelnard suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward a group of children playing by the riverbank.

As Ferson turned his head, Zelnard whispered a quick spell. A sudden splash erupted from the river, drawing Ferson's attention even farther away.

In that brief moment of confusion, Zelnard darted away, running back toward the south gate and into the crowded streets.

He knew Ferson would be upset, but he thought it best not to look back.

This was it. He was done with days of chores, lessons that did not make sense, being told what to eat, and being endlessly picked on by a brutish bully of a boy.

He was going to be his own man. Its what his parents would have wanted. It was what he wanted. And he was going to do it.

Zelnard found Kazrod waiting near the Woodrow Inn, watching the entrance from a distance.

"I'm here, and I'm coming with you," Zelnard said breathlessly. "My caretakers and even old Ferson agreed. We should leave before he changes his mind."

Kazrod eyed Zelnard with a mixture of scepticism and admiration.

He knew the boy was lying.

But there was something about Zelnard's determination that he could not ignore.

"Alright, Zelnard. You're in. But you will have to keep up. This is a serious expedition, and I do not have time to hold your hand."

Zelnard grinned, his heart soaring.

"I will keep up. No need to hold any hands. I promise."

Kazrod led Zelnard inside the inn, where they waited for Lukindar, the Pyro Mage he had mentioned earlier.

They did not have to wait long.

A young girl, barely older than Zelnard, approached them. She had a fiery glint in her eyes and a confident stride that immediately caught Zelnard's attention.

"Lukindar?" Kazrod asked, stepping forward.

She nodded.

"That's me. I heard you're looking for some fire and heat on this journey."

Kazrod smiled.

"You heard right. We could use your skills. You come highly recommended. If you can do what they say you can."

Lukindar was not much for words. She looked at Kazrod with a small, sharp smile.

"Oh, I see. Well, I think a demonstration will suffice."

Without wasting time on further pleasantries, Lukindar led the two young men down the main street toward the outer harbour.

She turned toward the distant signal tower of Crystal Quay, a tall structure used to guide ships safely into the harbour. Without a word, she raised her hand.

A flicker of flame appeared at her fingertips.

Zelnard watched in awe as she focused her energy and sent a thin stream of fire arcing toward the tower. Within seconds, the signal fire blazed brightly, two hours earlier than its regular lighting.

In a town filled with mages and magic-abled citizens, such things were not unheard of, but the display was still impressive enough to draw applause from several passersby.

"Impressive," Kazrod said, clearly satisfied. "Welcome to the team."

Lukindar smirked.

"Glad to be here. Let's get going. Something tells me your young friend might need to get off the streets."

Zelnard was nervously glancing south, half expecting Ferson to appear at any moment, grab him by the ear, twist it sharply, and drag him all the way back to Zouken.

The two young mages and the healer boarded a ship that sailed every third night. They found a small cabin with four bunks, a table, and even a little porthole looking out over the harbour.

To Zelnard, it was the most exciting place in the world.

It was the beginning of freedom. The beginning of adventure.

And he was so glad it was starting at last.

As the ship set sail toward Ironroot Bastion, Zelnard felt destiny unfolding before him. This was his chance to prove himself and show the world what he was capable of.

With Kazrod and Lukindar by his side, he knew he would learn far more than he ever could in a stuffy classroom or on a dusty beach.

Still, as Crystal Quay slipped farther behind them, his excitement softened.

He would miss Gavid.

Most of all, he would miss Jabar.

Poor Jabar would now have to face Dunstor alone.

Zelnard promised himself he would write as soon as he could. He would tell Jabar everything. He would tell him to endure a little longer, and that one day, when Zelnard returned to Karaz, they would meet again.

Thy Quests
Was Zelnard brave, foolish, or both when he chose to leave with Kazrod? Use examples from the chapter to explain your answer.