Tanden seemed more himself the next day, after getting over the annoyance of being tricked. Soren thought of it less like a trick and more like gentle encouragement to fall asleep. But he took Tanden's grumbling in stride, cheerfully helping him through their normal morning routine before making him sit on the quarter deck and distracting him with the sea chest.

They were getting close to their destination. That morning, the Gold and Silver Islands were visible as a hazy blot on the horizon, broken off from the mainland. Soren spent most of the day at the helm, watching the islands get closer and listening in as Tanden moved on from the chest and continued his Alvarian lessons. Despite not understanding the language, he understood Tanden's tone. He sounded more alert and more enthusiastic than he had in days. He wasn't entirely himself—his ankle was still keeping him stationary—but he was definitely feeling better with the fire's anniversary out of the way.

Soren wasn't in the habit of keeping track of the days, so the anniversary had surprised him. Two years since the port fire meant nearly three years since they had met. Soren knew that, but he never really thought about it. Three years of Tanden and the Wanderlust somehow simultaneously felt like way too long, and not enough time. They had seen and been through so much.

But Soren tried not to think of the past, because ahead of them was something brand new and exciting. Alvara wasn't as mysterious as Tallen Tiya had been, but it was further away from home. And Soren had no idea what to expect, because Tanden didn't have a plan. It was equally nerve wracking and thrilling.

It wasn't until the next day that they get close enough to see Xaoto clearly. Tanden, ankle snugly wrapped for support, insisted on standing at the helm as they approached. Since it didn't require too much moving, Soren agreed, but he stood nearby, staring ahead at the islands in awe.

The Gold and Silver Islands—it suddenly occurred to Soren that he didn't know their Alvarian names—were huge and mountainous. The mountains were pockmarked with the mines that had given the islands their names, easily visible even at a distance.

But mountains and cliffs were nothing new. What was truly awe inspiring was the port city of Xaoto, from its appearance to its very location.

It spanned the distance between the two islands. Clusters of buildings on each side which may have started off as separate towns. Now, docks and piers stretched toward each other like fingers itching to clasp together. Three or four bridges crossed the channel. As they watched, one of the bridges was lifted like a drawbridge, allowing the largest Alvarian tallship Soren had ever seen to pass by before being lowered again.

Far above the city, stone watchtowers were built into the sheer mountainside. Above even those, the cliffs reached towards each other, almost mirroring the docks below. It looked as if the islands had once been joined by an enormous arch. Soren found himself hoping the arch had fallen long before Xaoto's construction.

As the huge Alvarian tallship passed by, Soren's practiced eye noted differences in the rigging, sails and hull. The other ship's hull sat higher in the water, making her deck taller than the Wanderlust's. But her masts weren't quite as long. Even though there was no reason for it, Soren felt a flash of pride in their beautiful Wanderlust, for still being the largest ship around.

Soren didn't realize Ivern had joined them on the quarter deck until he spoke. "We don't see Alvarian ships that big in Zianna."

"That's because they're scared of us," Tanden said.

Soren saw a puzzled look flash across Ivern's face, and knew he had made a similar expression. "Why?"

"Why? Because we came from across the ocean, somewhere no one's been back to in four hundred years, and we destroyed Zianna," Tanden said. "We aren't taught to think about our history like that, of course, but that is what happened. Deorun and Navire rallied and held us back and thank every deity in existence that they did, or we would have destroyed their temples and language and culture as well."

The last thing Soren had expected on the brink of landing in a new city was a history lesson about their own country, but he was fascinated nonetheless. He knew bits and pieces of Zianna's history, probably the same bits and pieces Ivern or any of the other Ziannan sailors knew. But Tanden had been taught. He knew so much more.

Ivern cleared his throat. "What does that have to do with Alvara?"

"Think about it. We get goods from Alvara, but their ships don't land in Zianna. They sail to Navire. If they were going to visit a Ziannan city it would be Pagea, but that's as far north as they'll go. We get Alvarian goods from Navire. The same way we get goods from Moatt, Staedin and Cratia. And our ships don't tend to travel much further south than Navire, anyway. To our north, we have a decent relationship with Morcea, but Tallen Tiya was essentially untouched by Zianna." Tanden said. "And why? Because these other countries are afraid of us. They're afraid of us reaching out and trying to conquer more land. They're afraid of sailing around us and meeting our navy. So they trust Navire and Deorun to keep us contained. Or at least hope they'll be a strong enough barrier."

Soren looked after the big ship as she started to sail east, towards the mainland. "Should they be scared of us?"

"No," Tanden scoffed. "We're not a threat anymore. At least not outside of our own borders." He shrugged, lifting one shoulder. "Well, our navies aren't to be trifled with, but that's Crelan expertise at work. On land, we don't have the manpower to conquer or fight anyone."

"We have plenty of soldiers," Ivern said, somewhat tentatively.

"We have Teltish soldiers and Crelan sailors," Tanden corrected. "But more than half of the people in Zianna are Native Zians. Untrained, subjugated, unhappy Zians. All it would take for Zianna to fall would be for someone to realize that and turn Teltans and Zians against each other."

"You think Zianna would fall that easily?" Soren asked.

"Do you see King Edarius asking Zians to fight with him?" Tanden asked pointedly. "No. These other countries fear us, but any of them could tear us apart. That's why keeping such good relationships with Navire and Deorun is important. That's why, when King Edarius was in West Draulin, I suggested hiring translators on every merchant ship. Teltans need to change the way other countries view us, before something happens."

Tanden rarely spoke about politics, but he certainly understood them. Soren nodded. "That's what we're doing. You're an ambassador of sorts, if you use the title or not."

Tanden sighed. "I know. But at least I'm doing it on my own terms. All right, gentlemen, we're getting close. Let's get our Lady tucked into a nice berth, shall we?"

***

The snug binding around his ankle made walking on it quite tolerable. Tanden climbed off of the Wanderlust as soon as he could, leaving Soren and Ivern to make sure she was tied off properly. Rico followed, but Tanden wanted a chance to test out his Alvarian.

Unfortunately, he couldn't read the language, so it wasn't until Rico drew his attention to a signboard that Tanden knew where he was supposed to go. They followed the signs across the maze of docks and staircases, until finally reaching a large hut. It was elevated, almost like a tiny watchtower. Tanden climbed the stairs, ignoring the little twinges of pain in his foot with each step up, and knocked on the door.

A woman answered. For an awkward moment she stared at Tanden in obvious surprise. She was dressed much like Elorie, with colourful beads decorating her dark hair, a billowy yellow tunic, and a bright red cloth tied around her waist like a belt.

Tanden broke the silence tentatively, trying out his Alvarian. "I am Captain Tanden. That is my ship." He pointed. The Wanderlust's tallest mast, and her flapping pair of West Draulin and Zianna flags, could be seen poking above the surrounding masts. "A dock fee?"

The woman replied quickly, but he understood enough of her words to piece together the sentence. "The dock fee for a ship that big is one thousand azo."

Tanden couldn't recall the conversion for siyas to azo. Soren was better at those quick calculations, in any case. Tanden worked out his next sentence in his head before saying it out loud. "Can I pay with siyas?"

She waved at him in a way that Tanden guessed meant 'wait', then closed the door. Tanden took the moment to glance over his shoulder and address Rico in Teltish.

"How am I doing?"

"Very well," Rico said.

Tanden smiled and turned when the door opened again. The woman was holding a large book, which she propped on her hip and tilted so he could see the page.

He recognized a few of the symbols for different currencies. But one problem quickly became apparent. Alvarians didn't write numbers the same way Teltans did. Tanden waved at Rico. "I'll need your help with this."

Rico approached. He ducked his head to the woman, muttered something a little too quick for Tanden to catch, and turned his attention to the book. In Teltish, he said, "This says that one azo is about equal to half a siya."

"So the docking fee is five hundred siyas?" Tanden clarified. "And she'll accept them?"

"Ask her," Rico prompted.

Tanden put together some Alvarian words. "Five hundred siyas is good?"

She nodded, and spoke a little more slowly than she had the first time. "It is good for me. You need azos, though. You must visit—" she said a word Tanden didn't know, "—and then trade with others."

"The bank," Rico supplied quietly in Teltish.

Tanden nodded. "Yes, thank you," he told her in Alvarian, as he took out his coin pouch and began counting out five hundred siyas. He dropped four gold siyas and two silver siyas into her hand. "How long does the fee cover?"

"Seven days."

"I'll see you in seven days, if we're still here," Tanden said, nodded at her.

The woman nodded in return, then closed the door, leaving Tanden and Rico on the elevated platform. Tanden stepped past him and began down the steps. His ankle complained with each step, convincing him that he couldn't make the trip to the bank—wherever it was—just yet.

He spoke in Alvarian, taking advantage of the extra practice. "Do you know where the..."

"Bank," Rico said.

Tanden repeated the word, memorizing it, "The bank. Do you know where the bank is?"

"No. But there will be signs."

Tanden nodded thoughtfully. "All right. I need to get back to the Wanderlust and rest my ankle. Find out where the bank is and report back. Then we can visit it later this evening."

"You can get back on your own?" Rico asked.

"I can see the Wanderlust," Tanden said. "I won't get lost. Or..." He paused, and leaned on a railing so he could take weight off of his broken ankle for a moment. "Are you worried about something else?"

Rico's gaze darted around. A group of sailors walked by, and Tanden understood enough of their words to know that they were talking about fish. Once they passed, Rico spoke in Teltish. "You're foreign and limping. Just stay around the docks. Don't wander up to the rest of the town on your own."

"I'm not wandering anywhere. I'm going back to the Wanderlust."

Rico nodded. "Good, good. There are pirates in Xaoto, everyone knows that. Just be careful."

"Oh." Rico's story came back to him. It made perfect sense that the man would be wary of pirates. "Of course, I'll be careful."

"I watched..." Rico swallowed. "My previous captain. I watched a pirate run him through and... and it isn't something I want to see again."

"It won't," Tanden said. "We'll bring Soren along next time. Maybe some of the other lads, too. But will you be all right on your own, looking for the bank?"

"Oh, yes." Rico nodded, a determined look on his face. "I don't look like a target. I'll find the bank and report back." He hovered a moment longer, like he was steeling his nerves, then rushed off.

Tanden continued towards the Wanderlust. With Rico's warning bouncing around his head, everyone seemed like they could be a pirate. The only comfort was that Tanden understood what the people around him were talking about, and most of it was normal port talk. Fishing and trading, tides and weather reports. Nothing suspicious. Even the few comments Tanden heard about himself were innocent and curious.

Thinking deeply about the pirate issue, it wasn't until Tanden had one foot on the Wanderlust's gangway that he noticed a familiar woman standing beside it, bracelet-covered arms crossed over her colourful tunic.

"I expected you sooner," Elorie said in Teltish. "You must have enjoyed Crayse."

"I got distracted," Tanden replied in Alvarian. "With my translator."

Elorie's eyes went wide. "That wasn't half-bad," she said in Alvarian.

Tanden was physically exhausted from walking through the city, but his mind felt awake and clear. He flashed her a flirty smile. "Ready to work for me? Come aboard." He began up the gangway.

He heard her boots on the wood as she followed him up. "No, not yet. But I thought you might like a friendly guide to Xaoto, since I know you want to explore and learn more. But maybe your translator can be your guide?"

"I don't think he knows much about Xaoto," Tanden admitted. He carefully stepped off of the gangway. Jale was nearby, sweeping, and he waved at her. Just to show off for Elorie, he spoke in Tallenese. "Jale, come here for a moment."

Jale leaned her broom against the bulwark and replied in Tallenese. "If you're trying to impress her, I don't think it'll work. She'll just think you're saying something secret."

Tanden laughed. "That's probably true. Can you stay here with her for a moment? I need to talk to Soren."

"He's below with Ivern." Jale's gaze flickered down. "How's the foot?"

"Not great," Tanden said. "But your wrapping helped, so thank you." Then in Teltish. "Elorie, excuse me for a moment. I just need to speak with Soren. Jale will keep you company."

Elorie smiled, eyes sliding over to land on Jale. "Don't rush back, Captain Tanden."