The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Brilliance

The Wave Walker was small even for a caravel—an old Dagobari model at that, though attentively maintained. It sounded like Captain Balance Arcway had used her outside of the law when he first acquired her in his youth. However, he had taken care to bring aboard a certified cargo and proper docking papers for this voyage. And somewhere in the interim, he had outfitted her with a lateen mizzen on the quarter deck. Able was rather taken with her, which chuffed the Captain and amused Chestnut.

Yet, once they were out to sea, Able rarely emerged from the side cabin that had been granted for his and Chessie's use. He arranged himself on the floor with his notes and maps spread around and structured his manuscript. It was hard on his back without a desk, but just as he had told himself he could wait to rest his legs once they were away, he could wait to rest his neck and hand once they had landed. He only had this amount of time to pull everything he had together and could not afford to waste any of it.

Still, he was but a human, and he did not forget to eat or sleep, though Auntie Charity would still accuse him of both, nor did he neglect to take breaks to stretch his limbs and clear his head. The early evening when the crew would go below to have supper together before they changed shifts was the best time because the deck was relatively clear.

Usually, Chessie would eat with Arcway before bringing leftovers for Able in the cabin and turning in, but this night she was out on the deck as well. Unsurprising as, after several days of smattering rain, the sky was gloriously clear. The navigator was also making the most of the opportunity. Able nodded to him as he passed by to join Chessie at the prow.

Her usually wild hair was tied away from the wind, for she was playing her bowharp, an instrument played with a bow like a viol, but held against the breast like a cittern and with as many strings. He lingered to watch how she managed a dozen strings at once, but as the melody was lonesome and longing, he intended to leave her be. But after she drew out one last note, she turned the instrument upside down to show him the pegbox.

"These eight here are sympathetic," she explained. "They make the sound bigger, but I am only keying notes on these four."

A grin got away from him. "Have you been mind-reading longer than you've been fiddling?"

"About the same, I guess?" She laughed. "How about you try?"

"The bowharp?" He raised his eyebrows dubiously, but she was shaking her head with a knowing smile. "...put to it, I suppose I was thinking you've never left Borealund before. But is it really 'mind-reading' when you're literally performing your emotional state?"

"Isn't it? You were staring at my fingers."

"Fair enough." Able snorted with amusement and turned to take in the sky. They would not be going south enough for him to feel at home, but simply seeing this much of it made his troubles smaller. "I know you find a lot of meaning in the constellations, but I was wondering about the traveling lights. You have stories for the stars that wander the ecliptic, right?"

"I thought you had a book to write." But she was smiling companionably and idly plucking the bowharp, its tone shallow without the bow.

"What about just that one, then?" Able pointed to the planet of Brilliance, currently winking erratically on the western horizon.

"Illumination the Lantern-bearer. The Wanderers are heroes of old who set out to seek the treasures of existence. That one points the way to wisdom and true-knowing—can't imagine why you're drawn to it." Her smile might have been fond.

He leaned against the railing. "When it's flickering like that, if you were to look at it with a telescope with as little as a seven magnitude lens, it would appear like the young moon."