The contrast was stark to say the least between the lavishly overgrown slopes of the Mahara?a and the brownish-black dirt and rocky barren slopes of the mainland. At night it radiated the heat of the day with such fierceness that the little fleet chose to sail closest to the verdant cliffs where a cool freshening breeze descended to the waters and allowed those not on duty to sleep.
The Arahara was on point from the very first day and Atacherel never left it, sleeping in a small tent on the open deck among the sailors. Thankfully the waters were the clearest he had ever seen and they were able to spot treacherous rocks in time to maneuver around them. The bottom of the narrow strip of water was chaotic to say the least much like the mainland shore and often they witnessed the collapse of vast boulders into it from the former Rabatean side. It raised up billowing clouds of dust that choked the gullet entirely depriving them of sight and focus and most were taken by violent bouts of coughing so filled was the air with dust. At times, both sides of the gullet came so close together that the Behem had to furl its sails and fold its masts together, pushing itself forward with the help of long poles propped against the cliff sides. Merorae had to admit that she did scratch the paintwork on the starboard side of her ship and would have to make amends for it to the dockyard's master builder.
His mind was ebullient, never at rest, a very uncharacteristic trait, Atacherel had to admit to himself. It felt as if something was coming, each day nearer with a certainty an absoluteness that made him want to throw caution to the wind and sail on carelessly straight to whatever it was, for it was here hovering beyond the next fold in Mahara?a's prodigious cliffs, its unrelenting call beckoning him night and days to go forth and forth with something of a promise latched to it. Atacherel always the cool minded rationalist started doubting his own senses to the point of fearing a fever brought on by the suffocating heat of the Ring Sea but on the day he had decided to call on a cutter to go pay a visit to the healers on Behem he heard two sailors chatting as they sat on the deck repairing frayed ropes and he realized that in his great pride he had been fooled in believing that him alone had heard it.
"'tis closer, don ya reckon?"
"'tis closer everyday since wey intered dat damn sea."
"Dyou reckon wey shud fear it, da yah?"
"nope, I dunt. 'tis like em tall fellow frum di other shift sed. Ain't no malice inta it. 'tis callin' uz gentle an' strong, nought to sink uz but ta please."
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"Right yare, all 'em crew can feel it, an 'em captain girl too."
Their strong Uteshian accent had marked them as recent immigrants to the Sillaribes and the remoteness of Utesh from the influence of Triad had protected them even from the Insanities of Obed; they were the least mystic of all the Balà people. Down to earth, practical to a fault, complete lack of imagination or artistry, Balà from the wild lands of Utesh were considered the most honest people under the sun.
The commodore still asked for the cutter and went to the Behem, but he did not go to see the healers rather he took Merorae by the elbow and went inside the large cabin of her ship.
"What is it? What's the matter?" She asked, perplexed.
"You do feel it don't you. Something like a call at the back of your mind?" Atacherel asked urgently.
"Of course I feel it. Everyone does, its getting stronger as we travel. Why do you..." but she trailed off suddenly understanding the reason behind his urgent query and the clear relief her answer brought him.
"You feared to be the only one, didn't you?"
"I thought it might be a fever, I was on my way to the healers when I heard sailors speaking."
"That's the only thing they have been talking of since we entered the Ring Sea, how could you not notice?" Atacherel shrugged the question off, he had been too busy trying to navigate the unknown waters that's how.
"What do you think it is? Have you questioned your priest about it?"
"I had no need, the healers came to me to make the report that a healing force is at work here very much like what we have back in the Sillaribes, they have stopped doing the all-heal after the ninth day and the priest remains in silent meditation with a dumb smile on her face." She came closer to him to say, "you know what it is don't you Atacherel? The gift from the One; what is described in the Insanities. We are going to bring it back to all Balà in the world and..."
"...and all things will be changed, as is said in the Insanities." The commodore said looking into her eyes where he only saw her enthusiasm and her joy. "We shall proceed as before, the temptation to throw caution to the wind is strong and I want you to remind everyone aboard the Behem that their duty to the ship and all Balà on it is paramount." She nodded her approval and he added. "Send the same message to the Scarlet and the Nebu and tell them that we will do all we can to answer the call we all hear. That shall dispel the doubts of the skeptics among us."
