text: The Archipelago publishes every Wednesday. See the pinned comment for links to the contents. \ I tied the boat up to a small jetti, somewhat relieved Alessia couldn’t see the knot I hastily threw together, and pulled myself up onto the platform. Already I could feel a degree of exhaustion. The short row to the shore had already eaten away at the atrophied muscles in my arms. Still, the impatience in my brain had won out. It needed exercise more than my body needed rest. While I built up some reserves of energy, I took in my surroundings. I hoped to find an islander on a break, idly waiting by the sea, and who might want to talk about Vexids. But while the port didn’t seem busy, anyone I could see was engaged in a task. Porters carried textiles - mostly wool and cotton - off to waiting traders, sellers and buyers negotiated with the waiting boats down by the dock, but no one was stopped. Usually, beyond trade, ports were a place where you’d find those relaxing, finding peace in the coming and going of the waves. But here, there were none. “Can I help you?” I turned to see a woman in her mid-thirties bounding towards me with almost excessive enthusiasm. “Yes. I’m just visiting. I came on the large ship.” I tilted my head towards the Deer Drum boat, floating off the coast like an island of its own “Ah excellent. Another from Deer Drum. Welcome. Can I introduce you to our island? Maybe give you a tour?” She grinned wide, as though pulling her own cheeks back with hooks. The woman’s overt enthusiasm felt abrasive against my own lethargy. An ache ran across my back. “I would love to understand more.” The words felt stiff, my vocal chords still stretching into shape. “We may have to move slowly though, I’ve been recovering from an injury.” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman replied with the same tone and smile. “Well, if you want to learn more about the island, you’re in luck. My name is Endesha. My passion is sharing the island’s history with others, and I’m on my passion rotation right now. ” “Passion rotation?” “Yes. Are you familiar with our island at all?” She said, clasping her hands together by her stomach. “Honestly, nothing. I know a couple of the islanders have been here. One girl in particular, fifteen years old.” I held up my hand out about Mirai’s height. “I hear she’s visited a lot and likes the place. But no idea beyond that.” Endesha looked up, searching her memory. “Ah, yes. Mirai. Brilliant young woman. I’ve met her a few times. Fits right in here, a mind like that.” She said, pointing a finger. “Well, maybe we can walk to the town square, it’s only a short walk, and I’ll tell you a bit more about our history on our way.” I nodded in agreement, and Endesha held up an arm to guide the way. She led me up through the town past beige stone structures till we arrived at a long, thin building. Inside I could hear the thrum of machines, the thudding so loud it threatened to topple the aged and cracked walls. Endesha pointed to an engraving; old eroded numbers that read 7-7-10. “This is one of the oldest buildings in the work part of town. And it celebrates our most important rule.” Endesha looked at it with reverence. “When The Archipelago formed, those here felt that too many had died living wasteful lives, never doing what made them truly happy. And so beaame the law.” She began counting each point on her fingers. “Seven hours of work, our sacrifice to keeping the island running and ensuring we have food to eat. Seven hours to rest, eat and sleep.” She leaned in, her mouth grinning with delight. “And ten hours to chase our passions, and become the best people we can be.” “You only work for seven hours? The other seventeen are all yours?” “To be the best we can be.” She corrected me with a wagged finger. “The whole town is separated into three sectors. Here, near the harbour, is our industry, to the North we have the homes where people live and sleep, and to the east, is the true treasure of the island. The drive sector.” She turned and jolted with purpose, drawn eastwards by the sector’s mere mention. My legs strained to keep up, joints unsteady and unsure. “I’ve spent a fair amount of time pouring over the documents from the island’s founding and how they describe the old world. There are old descriptions of people watching moving pictures, or making men and women move with hand-held controllers just for fun. They use the term \*to kill time\*. Can you believe that? To kill time.” I thought of the many times on Alessia’s boat, on a relatively still day, when I would simply sit on the edge, watching peaceful waves roll by. “I... I think we might still do that?” “Not here.” Endesha said, her arms outstretched, allowing a broad chest to bellow the words out. “Tell me, Ferdinand. When are you happiest?” “What?” I said, my feet almost tripping on the words. “When do you feel happy?” I tried to go through a list. The drunken walk back to our property on Talin Barier with Alessia. Singing songs with the Deer Drum crew. When Alessia gave me my room on the boat. So many came back to Alessia. Too many. “I’m not sure,” I said, still dodging the truth even to a stranger. “People maybe?” “Even in the old world people spoke of having a calling. Something they wanted to do - not for glory or riches, but for the love of the task. Pursuing that is where happiness lies. Sure, you can be fine sitting about on a warm sunny day...” She waved an arm dismissively. “But real contentment lies in what drives us, what fascinates us. Don’t you agree?” A small smile flickered across my lips as I remembered my own calling. While the chase of the Citadel on Kadear had been intoxicating, travelling the Archipelago had been more than a want. Happiness that lifted your chest as well as your lips. “I’m beginning to.” Her already huge smile gained an extra lift at my agreement. “Then is it not the duty of this - or any island, to help you achieve those dreams? To push you to do what you are capable of.” She prodded my chest with a hard finger. “That is what those ten hours are for. To chase what drives you. To become what you are capable of. Not for the island, but for yourself.” The conversation paused as the road widened out into a large town square. In the middle was a wooden stage made of varnished pine. It was low enough that you could step up to it with a good leap, but wide enough to hold a good thirty or forty people if required. “We have a bit of a ritual that comes with those passions,” Endesha chuckled, staring at the platform. “I took a while to understand it, I had to go through pages and pages of correspondence among the island’s first council members. However, what they realised is that one of the most important parts of chasing your passions is to acknowledge them. To state your dreams aloud and not cower from them.” It made sense. So many times I had stared at that map in my home in Kadear. But other than brief conversations with Thomas my wishes of travelling were hidden. Only external events brought that desire out of the darkness. Endesha walked towards the stage. I could almost see the years of the residents who had taken to the stand in her eyes. “Between the ages of fifteen and sixteen, all residents come here to declare their passion in front of the island. I came here,” she pointed to each individual invisible attendee. “I told them I wanted to learn about the history of Vexids Receives and share it with visitors. And in attending, they told me that they would help me, push me in pursuit of that passion.” She turned to me, her smile reverential. “In a few weeks, the next group will take to that stage. And you can be certain I will be witness to their proclamations.” I thought about what I would’ve said on such a stage. How much easier would my travels have been if I had had to declare that drive to my fellow islanders, and they in turn were duty bound to help me pursue it? Endesha meanwhile was telling me about the history of the stage. The details of when it was first built and the repairs done to it over the years, and how it intertwined with the rest of the planned town. But the dates and minutia weren’t the reason for the smile on my face. It was the growing understanding of this place, and the freedom to give yourself not just to your island, or your own greed and vices, but to what called you. It seemed to shake off some of the lethargy in my bones, and when Endesha asked if I wanted to continue on to the see the passion sector, I obliged. We made our way east, as Endesha regaled me with the founders’ foresight in the layout. A series of workshops each in their own courtyard, their entrances facing inward. Each one had large wooden shutters at the back and front the entire width of the building save for a small doorway at the end. The lack of warmth in Winter was a price worth paying for the community the openness created. We turned and entered into one of the courtyards as I was met with the output of people’s hobbies: the sound of sandpaper grated across wood, the tune of an accordion pushing notes through its pipes. I could smell the aroma of old books, in between the wafts of fresh paint. The sights and sounds were a melody somehow borne of cacophony. No thread connected each space. Each room was home to a different activity. All the island did was give space for them to grow. And yet, the end result seemed harmonious. I watched a woman placing red hot metal into a great furnace, while next door another folded dough, flour pluming into the air each time the bread hit the table. Creaking metal snatched my attention. Atop one of the rooms to the left was a small windmill. Rusted iron blades oscillated with each rotation, but still it turned in the light breeze. From its base, a slew of cables ran down the roof disappearing through a hole near the edge. Looking into the shadowy room I could see two figures. A middle aged man, with curly balding hair, and a teenage girl. “Mirai!” I called out. Mirai looked up, two wires in one hand, and a tool in the other. “Ferdinand! You made it off the ship.” “Eir finally let me go.” Mirai put the wires down on a bench and pointed to the man behind her. “This is Charles. Charles, this is Ferdinand. He helped us move from Deer Drum.” The man took off a pair of thick, leather gloves and reached out to shake my hand. His face was blotched, and there were a few wrinkles across his brow. But his cheeks were taut and youthful. “Good to meet you. Welcome to my electrical shop.” “Charles does electrical engineering as his passion,” Mirai said, jumping in to add more information. “He’s built so many things. Small engines, toys... every workshop in this courtyard has electric lights now thanks to Charles.” She pointed to the bulb hanging from dangled wiring above. “I’m no genius. But I’ve got pretty good over the years.” Charles said, thumbs tucked into the straps of his overalls. Mirai continued. “He’s currently trying to get a windmill working. He could power the whole island off wind power alone.” “It used to be a common form of electrical power in the old world,” Endesha added, stepping between us. “I believe there may be the odd island in the Archipelago where it exists, but it would be a serious boon to have it here.” Charles grinned but bowed his head. “Charles has been letting me help out for the past few days. Soldering cables, testing currents, that kind of thing,” Mirai beamed. “She’s been a great help. Hard to try and fix the turbine on the roof and measure the currents down here at the same time,” Charles added with a chuckle. “It’s amazing. I’ve been sitting on that boat for months just watching the oceans roll by,” Mirai stretched out the words so they were as boring as a flat, windless sea. “I designed that one fish net, but other than that I haven’t got to do anything. But, Ferdinand, I love this stuff.” “I’m glad it’s going so well,” I smiled. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Here, let me show you something.” She turned, leaping between tables, before returning with a series of wires that connected a lightbulb to a small metal box with a wooden handle. “I made this. Turn the handle.” I looked at her hesitantly. “Go on.” It was only the width of my palm, but still, the small pole was hard to turn. Mirai laughed. “Harder. You’ll have to go faster.” My muscles were still wasted and weak from the Anmanion islands, and even this small chore was causing my arm to ache. However, for Mirai’s sake, I put in more effort, pushing past the resistance, until the wheel span faster and I saw a small flicker of light from the bulb. The spark invigorated me, and I cranked harder until a soft yellow glow from the bulb rose and dimmed with each shift of my arm. We all watched the light for a few seconds, until the stiffness in my wrist returned and I had to stop. “Mirai, that’s amazing.” I smiled, shaking off the aches. “I mean, it’s nothing compared to what Charles has done.” Mirai looked to the side, turning her cheeks. “But it’s a start.” “It’s an excellent start,” I nodded. The enthusiasm came back. “I just love this stuff so much. I wish I could do it forever.” “You could,” Endesha interrupted. All heads turned to her. “Anyone can join Vexids Receives over the age of fifteen. It was one of the rules created by the island’s founders. All you have to do is declare your passion during the ceremony.” I felt my teeth grit, watching this stranger so ignorant of Mirai and her world. Mirai’s face lit up. “When’s the next ceremony!?” “About three weeks’ time.” Endesha replied, ignoring my grimace. Mirai’s eyes glossed over, filled with an idyllic vision. “I can keep doing this? I can stay?” \ The Archipelago publishes every Wednesday. See the pinned comment for links to the contents.