#AJTLHTL

[selene-heidlman-writings]

A Journey to Learn How to Love

Chapter 1

31 May, 1986

Arranged marriages are strange things, particularly in this day and age. Don't get me wrong, I understand the cultural significance, and it's not like there's much difference between marrying for one reason or another. At least, not statistically. The outcomes are largely similar: people work through their differences, form some sort of united front against the harshness of reality, and together find a way to raise children and continue on the legacy.

At least, that's what I've read. Practically speaking, though? I have no idea what I'm doing.

I'm starting this journal to detail my quest to finally understand. This is meant to be my last adventure for a while: even though I'm used to being on the road, the woman I'm engaged to is far more accustomed to spending time at home or hosting parties with friends, and the entire idea of being out and about is more than a little alien to her. We went to the next town over last summer, and the road left her feet more weary than an entire day spent bustling about the kitchen. Or at least, so she insisted on telling me for most of the trip there and all of the trip back.

So, if I am to marry her, it seems my travels will continue solo, or be at an end. And to hear most of the elders speak of it, that curtailing in travel sounds the direction they all want me to lean, for fear that I'll fail to fulfill some duty to my new wife.

And in all honesty, I'm not sure I'll fill such a role even if I stay.

So in the hopes of finding my way, or at least getting suitably lost as to be plausibly declared "Lost at sea", I've drifted off to the harbour of Talim's Wake. Hopefully, this is a shore that Talim has been past in a swift water vessel lately, rather than the site of mourners for some poor soul… but either way, it will be a grand adventure, and I'm quite looking forward to finding the next leg of my trip in short order.

1 June 1986

I've had my share of bruises. Falling off trails, tripping when fatigued, even that one time I got into a small fight with a boar while on one of the less-traveled trails that led by a gorgeous waterfall. This is the first time I've gotten a bruise from buying someone a drink.

Captain Dani -- Or just Dani, as he told me to call him, prefers not to owe anyone a debt, and what I thought of as a casual icebreaker, he saw as a trap to whisk away some of his all-too-sparse attention. Of course, he handled this with a measure of grace: I've never seen someone so gracefully hurl a stein of beer without so much as looking at their intended target. A shame that the rather heavy drink struck my face with enough force to unseat me from my oddly-shaped bar stool and send me sprawling.

Of course, my reply was an instinctual "Sorry about that." At which point, I righted the stool and picked up the wayward beer stein, returning it to the rather-amused bartender.

Dani, to his credit, found his interest piqued at my manners, and we began a conversation all the same. So, in the end, it seems I did get some of his attention, although it feels more as though I've earned it through fortitude than charmed it from him naturally.

With that said, Dani is quite the adroit mariner. He's been sailing about these parts for several years, usually taking legitimate passengers to different places, sometimes smuggling, and often avoiding some authority or another. The rocks in Talim's Wake make sailing in or out a tricky affair, particularly for larger vessels which are sufficiently-armed for removing a small pirate vessel from the waves, so Dani often uses this place as a home port. Or, as close to home as such a wandering knave could have. I think that very premise of homelessness and drifting is what has enamoured him of me, and given me a chance to sail with the man amongst the various islands.

Upon hearing the main intent behind my search, he scoffed just a little bit. "Lad, if I'm not satisfied being a woman one day and less satisfied with being a man the next, it's hardly my place to talk of committing to someone else." said he with a guffaw and a fresh drag on his beer. "But if you mean to wander and you've the coin or the hands to make it worth my while, I'm happy to have someone who won't be looking to tie me one place or another, either. We set sail in the morning." Upon hearing the main intent behind my search, he scoffed just a little bit. "Lad, if I'm not satisfied being a woman one day and less satisfied with being a man the next, it's hardly my place to talk of committing to someone else." said he with a guffaw and a fresh drag on his beer. "But if you mean to wander and you've the coin or the hands to make it worth my while, I'm happy to have someone who won't be looking to tie me one place or another, either. We set sail in the morning." Well, and by "Morning" he apparently meant half past noon. It's a curious thing, to spurn the grey dawn and seek passage through the heat of the day, but Dani did it well enough once he roused himself from slumber, and his boat seems a cozy vessel. It's small enough to be easily manoeuvred in the shallow depths, but large enough for one to sleep comfortably while the other navigates. Dani told me the ship's name was the Crawling Isopod once upon a time, but these days he simply calls it "The Pod." Its painted sides were well-maintained, although the colours had long faded. It drifted on the water, happily churning through the waves as its small propeller-motor groaned behind us. We slipped past the last of the rocks and found ourselves on the high seas, seeking a new shore and, I hope, new clarity.

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[selene-heidlman-writings]

A Journey to Learn How to Love

Chapter 2

2 June 1986

Forget clarity: at this point, I'd settle for finding my "sea legs" and not tossing into the sea everything I've managed to get into my stomach.

3 June 1986

Dani has a rather unusual method for overcoming sea-sickness: she punched me in the gut rather hard, grumbling something about "Here's a proper thing to bellyache over." I can't say I recommend it for anyone who wants a little comfort, but she certainly cured any further complaint of nausea.

As things stand, we've come to the first stop on our little trip: a small island half-covered in ruins. We've parked our little vessel amongst a patch of partially-submerged trees ("Mangroves", as Dani called them). I was quite enamoured of the frescoes carved into the walls of the ruins which sprawled across the island: although they're rather simplistic, the creatures and processes they depict are fascinating and unique in my experiences.

As the day progressed and I filled one sheaf of my notebook with rubbings and little notes of the layout of the ruins, Dani wrapped up whatever business she had in the water and clapped me on the back.

"Well, then, that's enough wandering amongst the stones. Though, I'd guess you'll talk to stones as well as anyone?" Dani drawled.

"I'd love to listen to anyone who has such a fascinating story to tell as these stones do. There's something of a pattern to all of this, a ritual depicted that I've never seen before." I replied, showing some of the consistencies in the drawings.

"Heh, you fancy yourself a preacher of some kind? I've little enough time for rituals, but plenty of time for drinking. Come, let's make sure we're sleeping someplace dry tonight, aye?"

With that, Dani led the way into a city which took up nearly half of the island. The townsfolk saw us emerge from the temple area, and the more casual onlookers simply made a curious gesture and walked away. The ones who were more observant caught my sheaf of papers under my arm and when their gazes drifted to my face, it was with a mixture of wonder and deep concern.

"You've seen the old temple," one of the younger men in the crowd mentioned, walking alongside us and matching our pace. "What were your thoughts?"

Dani shrugged and continued on, so I explained for both of us, "It's fascinating. I'm quite curious about the ritual they depict, and the people who once practiced it?"

"Ah, that's a bit of a secret such people took to their graves, I'm afraid. This island has been a colony for the last century or so. Anything inflammable was put to the torch as 'heretical writings', to my eternal lament. I'm Chester, one of the few scholars who's come to this island looking to study the ruins."

"Pleased to meet you, Chester. I'm Noah, and this is my traveling companion, D--" I began, and Dani quite promptly cut me off.

"Don't mind me. Just passing through. You two want to nerd out? Go for it. Just make sure you're ready to go in the morning, Noah." she declared, before nearly doubling her pace and getting lost in the crowd. For someone with such a tall stature, she sure did know how to disappear.

Chester, for his part, was happy to show me to his home. We sat for a while, drinking water and discussing what he'd managed to piece together of the tribe's history. It was rather sparse, with only a few names and fewer details, but it seems there was once worship of a very specific group of divine beings in this area.

We talked until late into the night, conversation drifting from history to speculation, through more familiar myths and finally to the nature of my own journey.

"Noah, I'm afraid that's a question I could no more answer than I could teach one to cry. At best, any advice I'd give is instructions to imitate the symptoms."

"So, you've felt it for yourself, Chester? I'd been a little worried it was simply my studies keeping me focused."

Chester chuckled a little before replying, "Sorry, Noah, but even amongst the hallowed halls of the ivory towers, we find more than our share of love and romance. Some of our best scholars spend a great deal of time preoccupied with those topics. One even wrote a graduate thesis using the feelings as a backdrop. It was rather well-received, and considered one of the more relatable of its kind."

I was frustrated into silence at this. For his part, Chester didn't seem overly put out. At the same time, he did view me as something of an anomaly. He gave me a thick blanket and offered me his couch for the night, as he retired to his own room. My head was swimming with thoughts and confusion as it landed softly against the cushions, and I wondered how people could have such desires when there was a fascinating world of mysteries all around us, just waiting to be explored?

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