“You old coot.” Cira sat in her garden across Nina, watching the clouds go by as the compass in her palm refused to move, “Just where the hell are you trying to send me?”

  Just as old Gazen had claimed, a compass sat beneath his pillow. Instead of what one would expect from a compass, the needle on this one pointed West by Northwest. Whatever this place he wanted her to find was, There was a great distance between them

  That must be why he told me to wait until I finished my current journey… but how could he possibly know I was this distant? I figured it was just because he assumed I was weak, though I guess it could be both.

  Cira held in her hand an orichalcum letter opener. It weighed roughly twelve pounds. She had seen it many times on her way to raid her father’s wardrobe, but never had a reason to take it until today. Irritatingly enough, she just so happened to have received a letter from her father, so it felt like a good time to slice it open with some orichalcum.

  Dear Daughter of mine,

  We haven’t met yet, but if you’re reading this, it appears my calculations were correct. That means—

  “Uhh… What?” The breeze felt cold on her face as she started reading. Why did he know about me… before he found me?

  That means there is yet hope. Your father certainly knows of my existence by now.

  “Dad… What do you mean?” Blood drained from her face, and she unconsciously grasped onto the table. As her breath grew heavy, a concerned Nina finished her cup of juice and fluttered over to Cira’s shoulder. Cira folded the envelope to remake the wax seal, and it was undoubtedly Gazen’s. “Why are you calling that thing my father?”

  Her hands trembled, but she had to read this letter. It contained words yet unheard from her real father.

  Dear Daughter of mine,

  We haven’t met yet, but if you’re reading this, it appears my calculations were correct. That means Your father certainly knows of my existence by now.

  From your point of view, I can only assume you have passed yet another trial. And if you have made it as far as the Boreal Archipelago, it’s about time clear some things up.

  You know, I wasn’t much older than you the first time I stumbled upon those skies, but its beauty has always been something to behold. Make sure to visit Gindreor if you ever get the chance. There exists no better cantaloupe in these skies than that which is grown on Gindreor. Nice folk, too.

  Anyway, I’m sure you’re wondering why I extended a man’s lifetime by a century just to deliver you a letter, right? Well, he volunteered. I only hope one day you may come to love this island as much as Old Randall did, so he may rest in peace. He was a good man, and I’m sure he will be even greater in the next life.

  Now, onto the bad news…

  The reforging must have been a success. Otherwise, you would never be reading this letter. That means one very important thing that you need to be aware of. You have regained your father’s gaze. This is in fact a moment he has been waiting for since before even I was born.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Dad?!” The letter crumpled in Cira’s clenched fist, and Nina rested a hand on her cheek in support. “Why does everyone seem to know how my life is supposed to go except for me, huh? I thought you were supposed to be different! Don’t you dare try to tell me… Everything that’s happened has been your plan?!”

  Cira outright refused to believe it. Her life, her journey, her trials and her ambitions weren’t something to be written in stone or predetermined by another. Dad… There’s no way you’ve been keeping this big of a secret from me… right?

  She uncrumpled the letter and continued.

  Again, if you are reading this letter, it means I have succeeded. However, at this turning point you must bear a heavy heart. Many troubles weigh on your mind, yes?

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  You must not let them consume you. You must be strong now. That said, know that your father is stronger. It won’t be long until he makes his first move by the time you read this letter. It won’t happen tomorrow, or likely even within the year, but know that he is coming.

  I truly wish I could help you more, but I hold no power over time nor divination. The purpose of this letter is to hopefully dispel some of the misconceptions that may be dwelling in your heart. It is all I can do.

  Before returning to the Boreal Archipelago, I would like you to make one stop. From this island’s spring, orient Breeze Haven to 74.65 degrees with a pitch of +15.2 degrees and ascend at a rate of .665 leagues per mile. You will arrive at an island that I think could prove to be a very enriching experience for you at this time.

  I do not know you yet, but I wish you well, my daughter.

  Until next time,

  Sorcerer Gazen

  “Don’t you ‘until next time’ me!” Cira threw the letter into the ground and stormed off inside the house, leaving Nina to pick it up and stuff it back in the envelope. She cradled it in both arms and followed Cira through a window. “I can’t believe you!”

  Sitting back down at the dining table in a grumbling rage, her pantry flew open as some leftover beef made it to the stove. Herbs flew around like bats. Her stress was high.

  “My journey is my own… So why do you insist on sticking your hands in it!” Her fist clenched and Nina landed back on her shoulder, patting her face.

  “Friend… It’s okay.” Her void-like eyes expressed at least a modicum of concern. It was heartwarming, but Cira was in an incredibly foul mood.

  “Is everything I’ve ever known a lie?” She pled desperately, “I thought I was past that! All those people I mangled and murdered before I knew how to even lace my shoes, was it not enough? Now even Dad is trying to twist my life around?!”

  She felt like she was being dramatic, but the fact remained that he kept something as serious as foretelling her birth and adoption a secret from her. She felt like her entire life was just one prophecy or another.

  “Should I even go to Porta Bora anymore…?” Cira slumped back in her chair and contemplated conjuring a large glass of ale when Nina occupied the space it would, hands on her hips with a serious look on her featureless face.

  “You. Choose.”

  It sounded like a demand, but Cira understood the emotions Nina was trying to convey.

  “You’re right… I chose to go to Porta Bora. Not because my Dad told me too, but because some old man at the trading post who sold me ten pounds of beef mentioned it and I thought it would be nice to see the city…” A cutlet of meat rose from the stove and sliced itself into four perfectly seasoned steaks on the table. Cira picked one up with her bare hands and took a bite, “Could my father’s prophecy be any better than that stupid demon’s or those lunatics of the Final Sky? I can only assume it is, but that changes nothing… right?”

  Cira laughed now, slapping the steak back down on its plate, “If anything, I should be thankful the prophecies will all converge in the same place so I can crush them at once.”

  Nina was splashed in au jus, perched upon one of the steaks and nibbling away at it by the handful.

  “Still…” The contents of the letter didn’t exactly make her happy. Ill feelings she never thought she would feel since he disappeared dwelled in Cira’s heart. Despite it all, those feelings felt childish. “Why would he do this…?”

  She didn’t have any of the information—that was what most infuriated Cira about it. Even if there was a semi-reasonable explanation for her life conforming to her dad’s calculations, what was she to do with this knowledge for lack of context? Even giving him the benefit of the doubt implied doubt was cast from somewhere deep down.

  Dammit, Dad… “Why?”

  “You really suck sometimes… you know that…?”

  Cira finished her meal in silence with Nina and tried to calm down. She had already started flying towards the top of the Noose, but anxiety welled in her chest.

  “Dammit, Dad… You’re gonna wait.” Cira loved her Dad more than anyone, but she was not particularly happy with him. “I have a letter of my own to send.”

  ___

  There were quite a few bare islands and those with weak springs along the Dead Belt. There was only one of note with a lush forest that seemed like people were actually living on it, but Cira simply wasn’t in the mood when she passed by it.

  It felt like a violation of her sorcerer’s code to not at least check if anyone needed help, but getting out of bed was perhaps the greatest feat she could accomplish that day. Anything more felt like something beyond the realm of whatever caliber sorcerer she was.

  “Nina, have I ever told you of the sorcerer’s burden?” She whined, using her own arms as a pillow on the table in the garden, watching clouds crawl across the sky through a filter of orange poppies.

  “Yes.” Was her only reply, and the little nymph fluttered around the garden to find something to do.

  Cira was in something of a rut, and while she was glad to have Nina around, the nymph could only deal with a moping sorcerer for so long. “But there’s more to it, I swear—” Cira’s words were cut off as a light pierced through the clouds even before the sun had started going down.

  “Huh…” She tried to inspect it, but the light was too far away. “What do you think that is?”

  Nina wasn’t even around.

  This was the second day since departing from the island of Lazulei, and Cira hadn’t made a single stop. She hadn’t even checked for worms. She kept telling herself, “I have so much mana already!”

  Alchemy didn’t feel necessary, so she only went downstairs to sleep. Sometimes she didn’t even feel like going that far, resulting in a quick nap under the sun or moon.

  ___

  When she awoke, the light was much brighter. In fact, she could see a figure through the clouds.

  “What in the world…?” Cira got up and walked to the fence, casting her spatial net. “That’s… another lighthouse!”

  She had only just awoken, so she was very excited until she remembered the loneliness encroaching upon her like the crushing tides of a sea which never saw the sun—

  Nina bopped her on the forehead.

  “Right… I need to get dressed up.” Cira had been wallowing for days, and it only now occurred to her that she would definitely have to meet people and talk to them. There was something about donning the black coat of Empress Dreadheart that made the prospect at least a little bit easier. The hat, too.

  Breeze Haven was hidden in a cloud, so it could stay where it was. Cira alone floated toward the light. Rather, Cirina Dreadheart was intent on beginning the next phase of her Boreal journey. It was time to make her move.