I return to Faraway by myself next weekend. The fortune teller said the Goddess of Water resides in a maelstrom far to the east; I need to hire someone to take me out in a boat. What I initially thought would be an easy task quickly turned into an ordeal. Whenever I mention a maelstrom to the east however, I am refused as if I were a lunatic. Even as the day draws toward its end, I have no progress to console myself with. I really don’t want to drive all the way back to Jealousy having made no progress, but I can’t stay forever. I still have work and my daily life to maintain.

  There's only one more boating service that hasn't closed yet. If this one doesn't work out, I'll have to think of something else. I approach the small outlet where a saleswoman is outside fixing the signage. I call out to her, "Excuse me..."

  The woman turns and faces me, with the same bright disposition as all the others I’ve encountered."Oh! We’re just about to close for the day but I’d be more than happy to help you anyway I can." I am certain her demeanor won’t keep for long.

  "Yes, well, I have somewhat of an odd request.” I say. “I need a boat to take me out to a rather peculiar location."

  "Well, we are more than happy to accommodate you in any way we can. Where might this location be?"

  "Well... it’s to the east... it’s a supposedly infamous maelstrom." As I suspected, the saleswoman’s accommodating demeanor takes an immediate turn. She doesn’t even grant me the decency of a response and turns to escape back into her store, but I manage to grab the woman's arm and stop her. "Please! Everyone else has turned me away!"

  "Rightly so! You’re crazy!” the saleswoman snaps at me. “No sane person would ever willingly sail out in that direction! You’d best give up if you value your life." The saleswoman attempts to wrest away from my grip, but I manage to keep her from scampering away even still. I take an envelope stuffed with cash and push it onto the saleswoman.

  "Please. I need to go there. I'll pay you whatever you want."

  The saleswoman lets out a sigh and stops struggling. She pushes the envelope back to me. "Keep your money.” she says. “No amount of money will make me change my mind. I’m in no hurry to send any of my sailors to their deaths. If you’re that desperate, try asking around the north side of town where all the non-humans gather. Try an old bar called The Birdcage. I've heard that a bunch of old half-monster sailors gather there. Rumor is they are a real nasty bunch but I'm sure there’s not much they won’t do for money. I’m sure you could find someone crazy enough to take you out into the maelstrom for the right price." I release her from my grip. She steps away from me and rubs her arm. “If you want my advice, it'd be better if you just gave up. I'm sure nothing you need is worth dying for... or forcing yourself to employ a half-monster over."

  I disregard the last part of her advice and leave.

  I walk over to the north side of Faraway, which is even more run down than the rest of the city. I avoided it on my earlier visit because it looked unsafe. Despite my reservations about walking around such a shady looking area, I arrive at The Birdcage without trouble.

  The inside of The Birdcage is not at all like how I imagined it would be. A heavy cloud of smoke lingers in the air and makes it hard to breathe. The lights are low and there is no conversation among the patrons. A bunch of rough looking non-humans sit around with grim expressions. It looks like they had all just arrived from a funeral. I wasn’t expecting anything too out of the ordinary, but I imagined a bar would be a bit more lively. The patrons are all hafon or ‘half-monsters’. The hafon are beings, non-humans, who are said to have the blood of monsters running through their veins. Their bodies are part monster, covered in monster features, and they are said to utilize strange and powerful abilities through their monster blood. There isn’t a single human among them. The setting didn't exactly inspire confidence.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I approach the bar, making sure to leave enough space between myself and a rather pitiful looking drunk who has his face buried into the counter. A jet-black dorsal fin protrudes up from the drunk's neck. It looks like everyone in this bar are aquatic monster-type hafon.

  "Excuse me." I say to the bartender.

  The bartender turns around and looks down at me. "Huh? A human?" He has fins on the side of his head and small spines all over his body. The side of his face is mangled and hidden by an eyepatch. "What can I get you, human? Y’know this isn’t really a place for kids... or humans. You’re better off finding an establishment run by your own kind."

  I say, "I was told I might be able to find someone here I could hire to sail into the maelstrom to the east. Do you know anyone who might be interested? I have money."

  The bartender sets a glass down and smirks. “Whoever told you that is a damn fool. Kid, don’t you know? The maelstrom is a cursed place. It is a graveyard for ships and their sailors. Its waters have raged on for over one hundred years under the cover of a terrible, never-ending storm. All who sail into the maelstrom are never heard from again. Occasionally would-be adventurers like you come around thinking they are going to be the one to solve the mystery of the cursed maelstrom, but the results are always the same." The bartender’s eye scans the empty barstools before him. "Sometimes fragments of their ships wash up on the shore, but any trace of the individual is never seen again. You’d best give up if you value your life."

  "I can’t just give up.” I say. “I need to sail into the maelstrom. Is there really nobody who can help me?"

  The bartender shakes his head. "All those crazy enough to sail into the maelstrom have already done so. They are fools who desire an early, watery, grave and have rightfully never returned. Take your madness elsewhere. Nobody here is dumb enough to join your suicide mission.” The bartender returns to his cleaning. “Can I get you a drink or a smoke?"

  I don’t drink or smoke, but both suddenly sound appealing to me. Still, I know how out of place I am. "No... sorry to bother you."

  I leave the establishment. Outside I find a spot overlooking the beach where I slump over against the railing and ruminate. My spirit and optimism are crushed and yet I can’t even afford myself the luxury of tears. I'm just not strong enough to help Iskir on my own. I think long and hard, but my mind goes nowhere. Maybe this just wasn’t meant to be after all.

  A grizzled voice calls out to me without warning, which snaps me out of my daze. "Hey, kid." I turn and face an old shark hafon. He must’ve been one of the bar patrons. He shuffles up towards me. Even from quite a ways away from him I can smell he reeks of alcohol. He stares at me, and his expression of pity made me wonder if I look a bit too depressed. The man says, "I overheard you talking in the bar. Why do you want to sail into the maelstrom? There are easier ways to die y’know."

  "I don’t plan on dying. I need to sail into a gate at the center of the maelstrom and return. That gate might... have something to help my sick friend."

  "Hmm... I’ve seen lots of things out at sea and heard many strange tales. Never heard of anything like a gate at the center of a maelstrom before. Sounds like a tall tale to me." He pauses for a bit before he sinks up against the railing somewhat alongside me. Up closer, his monster features become a bit more prominent - his deep blue scaly skin, his claws, but most prominently the fin on his neck. I had seen it in the bar before, it is near-black with a blue lightning bolt pattern across it. Even though he has monster features, like those of a shark type monster, he still has those of a human man as well. Hair, beard, and general posture. It is an uncanny resemblance of being close to a human, but just falling short. The shark man says, after a pause, "...a sick friend huh? What makes you so sure you’ll return alive? You confident in your sailing?"

  "No... I don’t know the first thing about sailing.” I answer. “I’ve never been on a boat before. I can’t even swim. If I knew what I was doing I would just buy a boat and sail out by myself."

  "So you’re just relying on luck to come back alive? Not even your own luck, but the luck of whatever sorry sap you rope into your quest? That sounds pretty stupid if you ask me."

  I grimace at his admonishment. "What choice do I have? What else can I do?"

  The man pulls a flask out from his coat and drinks from it. "I ain’t got answers to your life’s problems. I’m just a nobody who’s lived far past his time."

  "I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” I answer. “I already know what I need to do. I’m going to sail out into the maelstrom. I’ll find someone willing to help me even if I have to give everything I have. I’ll go knocking on doors and drive out to the next town over if that’s what it takes. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have no choice but to buy a boat and teach myself how to sail… so, I have to go now. If you’ll excuse me.

  Before I get too far away the man calls out to me, "Kid! I don't think you're going to make it into the maelstrom like that."

  "I don’t care what you think." I call back.

  "You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re going to sail into the maelstrom no matter what?" He asks.

  "I am."

  The man takes his flask out again and goes for another long drink. He lets out a sharp breath of air. "Then you're going to need a damn good sailor to take you out there. So, let’s talk business.