text: Alessia had anchored her boat in a small cove on the northeast corner. The space was too small for any larger vessel, and the tides meant she was grounded much of the day, but the boat and her home were safe. That night I walked back to the boat with her. I told Xander and Kurbani I was going to keep her company, but in reality it was so we could talk more about the island and how we would convince the islanders to leave. Spring was slowly arriving. For the first time since I left Kadear, the night air didn’t feel bitter and cold. The sky was clear, and we walked under a blanket of stars and a waning moon that gave just enough illumination to the fields in front of us. “How do you think they’ll react?” Alessia asked. “Have they discussed needing to leave?” “Back when we first met, Sirad said something about some islanders not being ready to give up,” I thought back to that moment lying on the floor of that abandoned room, my ribs aching with the memory. “I reckon some are ready to go, though.” “So we’ll have some who agree and some who disagree,” Alessia nodded in thought. “The bigger issue is how they’re going to leave,” I shrugged. “There’s no boat big enough in the harbour to survive the seas, and they won’t all fit on yours.” “One passenger on my boat’s enough anyway, thank you.” She forced another smile. “But yeah, you’re right.” We continued to walk down the long hill towards the cove. As we descended, the sound of light winds rustling in trees was replaced by waves lapping on the shoreline. Alessia opened her mouth to speak, she took a deep breath in before finally saying the words. “You still got any artefacts left?” “Yes. Why?” “I’m going to need you to trust me... a lot.” “I already do,” I replied. A large beaming smile crept across her face for a brief second before she tried to smother it with a more stern expression. “I don’t think you know how much those things are worth. If you have enough, we could buy a boat - a big one. I could sail off, find a suitable ship, and come back.” “How much do you need?” I asked. “If you still have some of those lighters left. Maybe eight or nine of them.” I tallied what I had in my head. I’d be left with a shadow of what I started with. I hadn’t been living in luxury since I left Kadear, but I had never had to worry about how I would sleep or eat. This would change that. I would no longer be self-sufficient. A brief doubt crossed my mind. That selfish part of me that wanted nothing but to travel, to jump from island-to-island exploring - it begged me to refuse. But my conscience won out. I swallowed the id down into my stomach. “It won’t leave me with much, but sure. I can give you the artefacts.” “Great. Can any of them sail?” “In a dinghy by the harbour? Probably. Coping with an unexpected ocean swell with no sign of land?” I shook my head. Alessia tutted. “I’ll have to teach them - but we need to get to Tima Voreef. They’ll have to learn as we go, so we sail in tandem, at least initially.” “We can tell them tomorrow. I’ll get everyone together in the evening. Then we can explain it to them and hope they see sense.” Alessia stopped and looked back between me and the boat on the beach. The ship lay on the sand, listing to one side, the anchor stretched along the sand in front of it. “This is going to change things. For us both.” “What do you mean?” I looked to the side and let out a dismissing chortle. “Until this gets sorted, you can’t just travel for fun going off wherever you want now. And I can’t go taking whatever trading routes I want. Sure, I gotta make a living still. But...” she paused, and looked out to the sea. “Like it or not, the second we leave this island we’re taking on a responsibility. To the people of Deer Drum. The living and the dead.” “I know,” I said. “Good.” Alessia furrowed her brow. I took a long deep breath and waited for Alessia to catch my eye. “I’ve been running around chasing things since I left Kadear. This is the same, just more focused. But you... are you okay with this?” “No,” Alessia chuckled. “But... I don’t see any other way of this ending without blood on my hands. I’m not prepared for that. Sometimes what’s right comes before what you want.” “You sure?” She rolled her head from side to side. “I like being able to sleep at night.” She looked up at the stars flickering in the sky. “Speaking of which, it’s been a long day. I’ll catch you tomorrow.” The following evening we gathered the residents of Deer Drum to discuss our plan. All sixteen adults and the two older children all sat around in a large circle as Alessia explained their options. “The boat won’t be huge. You won’t all be living in luxury. But you’ll be comfortable. We’ll teach you to sail on the way to Tima Voreef. From there, you can sail to whatever island in the Archipelago you want to. That’s your decision.” “How long do we have to choose?” asked one woman. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” Alessia replied. “Are you telling us what to do, or is this an offer?” Sirad shouted from across the circle. “An offer,” I replied, sensing the tone in his voice. “Look, we can’t force you to get on a boat,” Alessia replied. “So it’s not an order. But I’ll tell you bluntly; if you stay here you will most likely die.” Silence fell across the circle. There were no further questions. “They’re right. We have to go,” Xander said, his eyes staring his hands, as he slowly tore up a piece of grass over and over. “You want to leave?” Sirad replied. “No. But I want to live. I want them to live,” he nodded to his daughter sitting beside him. “We can’t just give up, abandon Deer Drum,” another woman replied. “Like it or not, Deer Drum is already dead,” said Xander. “We’re here, but the island... Who we were. It’s gone.” Xander’s bluntness hit a few members of the circle. One man bucked, his head falling into his hands as he covered his face. “He’s right,” said Eir. Her voice seemed even thinner than when she had inspected my injuries when I first arrived. “We have to move on.” “What?” Sirad stood up. “This is our home. I’m proud to be from Deer Drum. I’m not letting our island name die.” “Sirad, we have to.” Xander said. “And Eir, you’re listening to him. You didn’t study leadership, Xander. We’re supposed to do whatever a farmer says now.” “And you were a naturalist.” said Kurbani, standing to meet Sirad. “Were. You’re not anymore. None of us are what we were.” “So Xander is our leader?” Sirad pointed his finger at Xander, who was still hypnotized by the shredded grass in his hands. “No. We were farmers.,” Kurbani interrupted, raising her voice to cut him out. “And I’ll tell you what farmers do know. How much food people need to survive. So I’m telling you, with all I know, that if we stay, we die. And you can be nostalgic all you like. Spend weeks being so. You’ll still die. Your loyalty to Deer Drum won’t feed you.” “Please. Calm down.” Eir interrupted, she lowered her hands, trying to simmer the mood. “We’ve all been through more than anyone should ever have to. But we all want what is right.” Kurbani and Sirad heeded her point and sat back down. Once they did, Eir continued. “One thing’s for sure. We all go one way or another *together*. If some of us leave, those staying behind stand even less of a chance. So, are we all in agreement that whatever we decide, whatever the majority choose, we’ll all abide by?” She looked around the circle. Hums of agreement or nods met her gaze. “Good,” she continued. “There’s eighteen of us here. How many of us have already made up our minds?” “We’re letting the children vote?” Sirad replied. “They’re members of this island too,” Eir replied. “How many have made up their minds?” Hands rose as Eir counted. All but five had already decided. Xander’s daughter, Mirai, the other child, and three others. “And of those that have already decided. How many say we should leave?” Eir replied. She counted again. Xander and Kurbani’s arms were raised, as were seven others. “Nine. One more for a majority.” Eir declared. She looked around the circle, she was about to open her mouth when she was interrupted. “We go,” Mirai said, raising her arm firmly into the air, her face hardened. “Are you just doing this because your parents did?” asked a man on the other side of the circle. Mirai laughed. As the laugh faded, I could see dampness on her cheeks, and water in the corner of her eyes. “You don’t know how much I loved living here. You will never know that. I would shout at my parents till I died of exhaustion if I thought they were wrong and there was some way I could keep living here. I’ve lost so much. My best friend is buried in some pit outside of town, my uncles and aunts are there too. And I’m going to have to leave them, and their memories, and every good thing that ever happened in my life behind. I would give anything to not have to lose something else... But we have to face loss. We have to try and build something else, somewhere else.” “The best things grow from the worst disasters,” said the musician who I had seen playing with Novak earlier. “What?” Mirai asked. “It’s a line from a song I was taught once. ‘The best things grow from the worst disasters. The best things grow when we begin again.’ There will never be a point in any of our lives lower than this. But, from that - all that loss and emptiness - we can build.” He raised his hand from the elbow. “I vote we go too.” “That’s eleven for, four against, three undecided.” Eir said. “It’s done. We go.” There was silence across the circle. A few members stirred, wanting to dissent. But they bit their tongue. Everyone stared into the space, processing the moment in solitude. At least a minute passed before Eir spoke again. “Alessia, Ferdinand. Tell us what to do and how we can help. We are coming with you.” Alessia nodded and slowly stood up as she explained to everyone what would happen. The next day Alessia set sail. I stayed behind with the islanders as they packed up whatever goods they couldn’t dare to part with, and any food they could carry. It was a long wait for Alessia to return, but two weeks later one of the kids spotted the ship on the horizon. A handful of us rushed down to meet her as we watched the boat slowly sail towards the shore. The vessel Alessia had found was at least five times the size of her own. In reality, it was too big for one person to manage, but with a loose sail allowing a slower pace, and a lot of patience, Alessia had managed successfully. We watched the boat crawl towards the island, Alesia’s ship tugged behind by a long rope. Eventually, Alessia weighed anchor and rowed a smaller boat ashore. It was time for the people of Deer Drum to leave. My own island had turned out to be a lie. It had imprisoned me and tried to kill me. And yet, I still missed it. I was still from the Kadear Coalfields. Our homes hold identity over us. And I could see each survivor mourn as they stepped into the boat, and their feet left the sand of the island. They left in groups of three or four in the small rowing boat. Some stared straight ahead, refusing to look back lest long-cherished memories reappear. Others watched the land the whole time, hoping it would call them back, beg them to stay. With everyone on board, we set sail away from the island. For the first time in many hundreds of years, perhaps since the Archipelago was first formed, Deer Drum was uninhabited. Its purpose was now nothing more than a geographical reference. Its population, nil. We all travelled on the larger ship, Alessia’s boat towed behind. As Deer Drum disappeared over the horizon, Alessia was resting in the cabins, while I was helping the survivors get used to the seas. I knew enough of the basics to be of use in calmer waters. Eir was the first to take the helm. She seemed at ease, slowly turning the wheel as the gusts of wind caught the sails. I stood by her for the first couple of hours. Behind me, the man with the guitar was sitting on the edge of the boat, plucking a few chords. He stopped. Paused. And then began playing again, now with a more resolute purpose. After a few bars of plucking the chords, he began to sing over the top, serenading his fellow passengers. *My friends, come along. Don’t you hear the fond song?* *The sweet notes where the nightingale flows?* *For to hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale,* *As she sings in the valley below,* *As she sings in the valley below.* He stopped for a second, thinking, before starting the second verse. *My trav’lers don’t fail, for I’ll carry your pail,* *Safe home to a harbour we’ll go.* *You shall hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale* *As she sings in the valley below,* *As she sings in the valley below.* I looked at Eir, making sure she was okay by herself, before turning to speak to the man. He stopped as he saw me approaching. “Did you write that?” I asked. He laughed and shook his head. “No. That song’s older than the Archipelago itself. I was trying to switch the lyrics up a bit. Make them more relevant to our lives.” “What’s the original about?” “Guy trying to schmooze a woman. Same as most old songs,” the man grinned. “Thank you, by the way. You’re saving us all.” “It was the right thing to do,” I said. “Good to meet you...?” I offered out a hand. “Lachlaan,” he said, returning the handshake. Once he was done he picked up the guitar again and started plucking a few strings, playing with the melody of the song. “You seem pretty relaxed out here,” I said. “There’s been a lot of pain lately,” he said over the chords. “But maybe for the first time since everything, it feels like we’re moving forward. We might be sailing into the great unknown, but we’re moving. Sometimes that’s a victory. We’ll just have to see what’s over the horizon.” As I turned and headed back to the helm, he picked up the song again. *My friends, come along. Don’t you hear the fond song?* *The sweet notes where the nightingale flows?* I looked over the bow of the ship, as we cut through the crisp winter waves on our way to Tima Voreef, and hopefully answers to what happened on Deer Drum. “This seems easier than I expected,” Eir said to me over the singing in the background. “It gets harder when the weather isn’t so kind,” I chuckled. “I’m sure, but for now.” “For now, just keep pointing at the horizon,” I said. “Point to the horizon, and see what’s on the other side.” # END OF BOOK ONE. \ The Archipelago will be taking a brief hiatus before returning with the start of book two on Thursday 22nd July.