The Gate Traveler

According to my calculations, our voyage from Arno Atoll to Hawaii should have taken three or three and a half days at the most, but no one told the ocean that, so it was unaware of the fact and did as it pleased.

In the initial two days, the wind kept changing direction. At first, I tried tacking, but it was impossible. As I turned right to get some of the wind, it changed direction to the right. As I turned left to catch it, it changed direction to the left. I felt like the wind was playing games with me, changing direction no matter how I adjusted the sails or the boat.

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?” I muttered aloud, voicing my exasperation. “I read that this area has excellent trade winds for sailing, so what’s this nonsense?” I directed my complaint to the wind.

“Who are you talking to?” Alfonsen asked, amused.

“The wind.”

“And is it talking back?”

“Not yet, but I’m not giving up hope,” I replied with a grin.

He shook his head, smiling.

Eventually, I conceded defeat with the sails, securing them and relying solely on the engine. Here, too, the ocean behaved erratically—the currents kept pulling the boat in different directions. I had to constantly monitor the compass to adjust our course and keep sailing in the right direction. The various currents also created whirlpools, which I had to avoid as much as possible, and sudden waves that bounced the boat upwards.

My poor boy started feeling sick again, so I kept steering with one hand and casting Healing Touch repeatedly with the other. Towards the first day’s evening, the erratic winds calmed down a bit. They were still blowing unfavorably, and we didn’t feel like tacking. None of us had the energy to wrestle with the sails, so we continued under engine power. Mahya took charge of navigation for most of the night, giving me a chance to rest and care for Rue. Though he had not fully recovered, he was better, as the tumultuous waves subsided.

Although the second day was a little more laid-back than the first, it was still quite similar. The wind still changed direction occasionally, so we didn’t open the sails. Our engine was good enough, and we had enough power to make it to Hawaii three times. The currents also calmed down. They still tried to play tug-of-war with us, but at least there were no whirlpools. The sailing was relatively less problematic but still not smooth. At least Rue was feeling better.

Alfonsen took the helm most of the day and did a decent job. So, I let my mind rest and continued to train my mana sense.

When I saw Mahya still flipping through the Bible, I got an idea. I focused on my Storage and found all of Lis’ books on parchment. I took them out in twenty-piece sets and examined each one. Although I had yet to learn all the languages, I had enough knowledge to identify the books’ content. I had a collection of seventeen books that covered eleven distinct runic languages. In addition, I had forty-five books of magic script that were not runes.

First, there were the rune languages. These looked like traditional alphabets, but each rune wasn’t just a letter, but a symbol with deep meaning. Think of them as encoding concepts rather than sounds. For example, a rune might represent a specific elemental force, like fire or water, or it could embody an aspect of nature, such as the cycle of life or the power of the seasons. These runes aren’t just about communication; they’re like condensed capsules of cosmic wisdom, each with its own story.

On the other hand, magic scripts are a different beast altogether. Imagine scripts resembling ancient hieroglyphs or intricate cuneiform tablets with many squiggles and circles thrown in. Instead of comprising simple symbols, these scripts incorporate multiple layers of meaning. Each symbol doesn’t limit itself to one concept—it functions as a nexus of ideas that shift depending on the surrounding symbols. Picture a symbol for “protection” that, when combined with others, can also mean “ward against darkness” or “guard the ritual against external interference.” These scripts are like puzzles, where the arrangement of symbols holds the key to unlocking their full potential.

In essence, while rune languages are like a direct conversation with the universe—clear and precise in their symbolism—magical scripts are more like cryptic puzzles.

Examining the books, I saw that while some magic script books shared symbols, each contained unique glyphs absent in others. Furthermore, I discovered twenty-eight volumes on rituals illustrated with circles, stars, squares, and cubes, as well as over two hundred books on diverse subjects featuring runes or magic script symbols.

I took the whole pile to Mahya and told her, “These are all books of runic languages, magic scripts, or other topics that include some runes or symbols. Don’t you think that’s enough? I see no reason to search for archaeological finds to learn one or two new runes. We’ll also visit other worlds; I’m sure we’ll find cool stuff there. I don’t want to linger too long on Earth to pursue lost knowledge that may or may not exist.”

She looked at the whole pile and sighed, her shoulders drooping. “You’re right. I knew about your huge library, but it slipped my mind. I also think my father’s influence made me start researching this. The subject doesn’t interest me, but it made me feel close to my parents,” she explained, her voice softening as she glanced away.

“When was the last time you saw them?”

Her eyes narrowed as she did the mental calculation. “About seventy years in my linear timeline, or a hundred accounting for time skips.”

I whistled, shaking my head. “Quite a while. Would you like to see them?”

“I can’t,” she said, her tone flat. “I know a chain of Gates from the technological world from which I set out on a space journey to the new planet destined for colonization. From here, I have no idea. Besides, when I left, my parents also intended to continue traveling. They settled in the world where I was born to raise a family; I was the youngest of three children. My brother and sister left years ago,” she added, her gaze distant.

“Do you miss them?” I asked quietly, watching her expression.

“Yes, but we keep in touch through the Archive. There’s not much correspondence, but we exchange information about what’s happening with us once every six months or a year,” she explained, her lips curving into a small, bittersweet smile.

“Do you know where they are?”

“The last time we corresponded, they decided to face a tech world. They liked my stories about the space travel I did and became intrigued. They were searching for a technologically advanced world where they could experience space travel.”

“I hope they enjoy it.”

“Yeah, me too,” she agreed, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Do you want me to leave you the books?” I asked, gesturing to the pile.

“We’re good for now,” she said, standing up. “It’d be great if you could arrange your books on the mezzanine. That way, anyone can get a book.”

“I’m going to do it. I just need to figure out how to bind them,” I scratched my head. “I’d rather not use rubber bands to keep stacks of paper or parchment together. I’ll find some bindings, make actual books out of them, put a cover on to keep the pages safe, and then put them on the shelves.”

“Good idea,” she said with a nod. She was smiling, but still looked sad.

She went to the back deck, took out the motorcycle she had already disassembled half of, and continued to tinker with it. I went back to training my mana sense.

On the third day, we finally had good sailing conditions. The sea was calm with a gentle breeze, and there was no hint of fog, whirlpools, or turbulent waves. According to our Travelers’ Map, we were nearly halfway to Hawaii, maintaining our schedule.

Over breakfast, I said to Mahya and Alfonsen, “I want to take the house out so Rue can watch TV. With all he’s been through, he deserves it. We also have to practice with the hot-air balloon. This place looks great, and the weather is perfect.”

“Will you be acquiring the skill from the Guidance?” Alfonsen asked, raising an eyebrow.

His question surprised me. It never occurred to me to buy the skill, but why not, actually? I had no intention of taking a six-month course on how to fly a hot-air balloon, and I had a lot of points.

“I think so. Mahya, what do you think?” I asked, turning toward her.

“Yes, we have enough points,” she replied, nodding thoughtfully. “I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it before, but I’m still stuck in the mindset that points are too valuable to waste on nonsense. But I have over two hundred and fifty points. I can afford it without worries.”

“Two hundred and fifty!” Alfonsen exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Once we arrive on land, I will need to enroll in a significant number of workshops,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief.

I reassured him with a shoulder squeeze. “We’ll take care of you; don’t worry,” I said with a smile.

That morning, Alfonsen seemed unusually cheerful, something I wasn’t used to. Usually, he looked displeased, lost in thought, or neutral. He did smile and laugh, but only for specific reasons. But this morning, he was all smiles.

“You seem happy this morning. Did something happen?” I asked, studying his face.

“Indeed, I have reached a resolution.”

“Oh, and what did you decide?”

“I have decided not to return. My father will need to conceive a new successor. I aspire to continue my travels, and perhaps, in the distant future, when I grow weary of the journey, I might consider returning to Leylos or seek out a new location to establish roots. But this time, without the burden of establishing a kingdom, it’s too arduous.”

He said the last sentence with such an expression of disgust that Mahya and I started laughing.

“What happened to your points?” I asked.

“The Guiding Spirits have been kind to me,” he replied. “I have lost four points from my total, but I did not lose my mana shield.”

“Excellent.”

“What are we talking about?” Mahya asked.

“Alfonsen decided to give up his title of heir and continue traveling. He feared losing the mana shield because he exchanged stat points to buy it. But he only lost the points without losing the spell.” I said.

Mahya sighed and said, “Congratulations. I wish it would have worked like this, but I converted it by choice to an engineering skill.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Either we’ll find you a scroll with a different version of this spell, or I’ll try to build you a different one. We’ll find a solution.”

She nodded, and we continued eating.

When we were on the back deck, I asked Mahya, “How should we connect the house?”

She inspected the railing, retrieved an engraving pen, and inscribed some runes. “This will keep the railing from warping or breaking. Take out two chains that you’ve already carved runes on.”

I gave her the chains; she attached the ends to the railing and said, “Take the house out, immediately jump over the railing onto the pontoons, and secure the chains to the house’s posts, attaching them on both sides of the stairs.”

Following her directions, I completed the connection with a three-meter gap to prevent accidental contact between the house and the boat for safety.

Mahya told me, “Command your house to attach the steps to the boat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just do it; you’ll see.”

I commanded the house as she said, and the stairs straightened, turning into a ship’s ramp and reaching the boat. Mahya secured the ends of the stairs to the railing with sturdy zip ties.

“Shorten the chains to match the distance of the stairs,” she said.

I adjusted the chains, double-wrapping them around each post before clipping them together.

I called Rue to come to the house, activated the dead zone in the spell room, connected the computer, and gave him snacks for the movie. He kept licking my face and mentally shouting, “John, friend! John, friend!”

I patted him and said, “Have fun, buddy.”

Mahya brought me a pile of crystals and said, “Place them in the charging station. I swapped with the full crystals.”

We took the balloon out to inflate it but ran into a problem. Every time we watched someone inflate the balloon, they would lay the basket on its side, spread the balloon out fully on the ground, have two people hold the balloon’s mouth open, and then a third person would turn on a giant fan that ran on a generator to fill the balloon with air. Only after fully inflating the balloon did they turn on the gas. At first, with the basket lying on its side and the balloon on the ground, then slowly lifted and straightened the basket as the balloon rose.

We tried to spread the balloon on the sea with the e-foils, but the water kept getting in, and we realized it wouldn’t work. We were also afraid to turn on the big fan on the boat, lest the mana burn it. The three of us sat on the back deck, deep in thought and trying to find a solution.

Mahya said, “I have the Wind Funnel spell. If you and Alfonsen hold the balloon open, I can fill it with air.”

It worked; we filled the balloon, which gave me an idea. Instead of using gas, I poured the Heat spell into the balloon, which slowly rose. We left the gas system in the basket to operate as needed when the balloon was in the air, but for now, I was the “gas.”

After the balloon rose almost completely, Mahya climbed into the basket and said, “Hands off,” as we heard the operators say.

She turned on the gas, and the balloon rose more. She shouted to me from above, “When the balloon rises to a height of about four or five hundred meters, tie it to the railing.”

I gave her a thumbs up, and she kept rising.

“Do you need me for anything else?” asked Alfonsen.

“No. Thank you very much. You can go to sleep.”

Alfonsen went to sleep, Mahya reached the desired height, and I tied her to the railing. Rue watched a movie at home, and I went to the helm and started the engine at low speed. I thought it would be more interesting for Mahya if we moved forward. That’s how we sailed for half a day. I was at the helm, sailing at low speed, while Mahya was up in the balloon.

At one point, we saw a yacht sailing in the distance. After some time, it was clear they saw us and turned towards us. At first, I thought of urgently calling Rue and storing the house. But if I saw them, they must have already seen the house—especially with binoculars.

When they reached us, we saw a group of young people, maybe fifteen, in their twenties. They took out their phones and took pictures of the boat, the house, and the hot-air balloon.

One of them shouted to me, “You know how to live, bro.”

I gave him a thumb-up, and the entire group waved goodbye to me and Mahya before sailing away.

In the evening, Mahya took down the balloon, Rue returned to the boat to eat dinner, and Alfonsen woke up to join us. We all sat together in the saloon and laughed about the people we met that day. We concluded they would talk about us for years.

It was a fun day in the sun.

The ocean was much nicer and cooperative during the next two days of the voyage. I finally met the trade winds the articles on the internet promised me, but they were gentle enough that they didn’t make big waves. I had no problem with the waves, but I’m sure Rue thanked the Guiding Spirits daily for our sailing conditions.

After the first day, Mahya decided not to open the balloon again—it was too much of a headache to open and fold it. I assured her that in Nevada, in the desert, there was plenty of room, and we could fly long distances. Our basket was big enough.

This reminded me I needed to create some kind of wind spell to help Mahya navigate the balloon. I already knew the “flavor” of wind or air, but I still couldn’t replicate it. I sat with my eyes closed on the back deck, spread my mana sense as wide as it would go, and felt the mana of the surrounding wind.

This time, connecting to the wind’s mana was much easier. I didn’t know if it happened because my mind power orb grew or maybe because there were no disturbances here and the wind was “pure,” but I quickly lost myself in her.

I got to know her like a close friend. Playful and light, she dislikes staying in the same place and occasionally has tantrums, but she is never malicious. She loves to play, sing, and make music with the leaves, the waves, the sand, and anything that makes a sound. She enjoys traveling and wandering and hates being limited or constrained. I got to know her and felt a strong connection with her. I, too, was like a leaf in the universe’s wind. Flying from one world to another, wherever the winds will take me.

This part of me felt a closeness, affinity, empathy, harmony with the wind, and a connection forged between us. We were one, both of us blowing across the cosmos without roots or a place that was truly ours. But everything was ours, from the open spaces to the closed caves. We were everywhere, and every place was our domain and home, but it also wasn’t, as we had no roots to tie us down. I sank deeper and deeper into the wind, and for a fleeting moment, I felt Unity. The wind and I merged into one, and nothing could separate us.

I opened my eyes and found myself floating above the sea, and our boat about two hundred meters away from me. From the shock, I lost the connection and fell into the water. It was such a big surprise that I started flailing and swallowed some water.

Snap out of it!

I stopped flailing and let myself float for a minute to get myself under control. After feeling calm, I took out the E-foil, pumped a lot of mana into it for speed, and surfed to the boat. Meanwhile, the boat moved almost a kilometer away from me.

When I got to the boat, Mahya came out of the saloon and asked me, “Why did you suddenly decide to jump into the water?”

“It wasn’t planned,” I replied, feeling sheepish.

“How exactly do you jump into the water without planning it?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“When the boat runs away from you.”

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Huh?!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t ask. I was trying to build a wind spell and ran into a minor snag. Don’t worry, I’m working on it,” I explained, rubbing the back of my neck.

She shook her head and muttered, “Wizards are so weird.”

“Did you get to meet many wizards?”

“One before you, and he was strange too. He would argue with fire and talk with water,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Did he tell you anything or teach you anything that could help me advance as a wizard?” I asked, half-joking.

“No. He didn’t talk to people at all, just the elements. Like I said, weird.”

“When I start talking to grass, hit me on the head to wake me up, okay?” I said, laughing.

She laughed, too, and nodded, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

After the last “accident,” I decided not to play with the wind over the ocean. If I got too connected to it, the boat might disappear over the horizon, and I wouldn’t be able to find it. Instead, I started practicing the second exercise Lis gave me. Spreading my mana sense as far as possible, I plucked a basil leaf from a sprig of herbs and practiced moving it all over my mana field. It was easier. Before, my mana would move away from my body about forty or fifty centimeters and dissipate. With an active mana field, I could control it at a distance of close to two meters. It still wasn’t even close to the size of my mana field, but it was progress in the right direction.

On the following day of sailing, I didn’t feel like practicing, reading, or doing anything related to my studies. I just wanted to enjoy the sea. Rue wanted a movie, but I explained to him we were already very close to Hawaii and occasionally saw boats or yachts, so taking out the house wasn’t a good idea. He wasn’t pleased and gave me sideways glances most of the day with mentally shouted grumblings.

In the afternoon, I took out my guitar and started strumming the strings. I didn’t play a specific song or melody. I simply relished the sound of the music, and a song composed itself in my mind. Instead of being written, it originated within me and spontaneously exploded into existence. I took a pen and paper and wrote down the lyrics to avoid forgetting them. It was a description born of my feelings and my connection with the wind. I felt she was a part of the creation and realized our connection was not completely severed.

Sea & Sky

Surrounded by sea and sky,
Sun above, trade winds high,
In this vastness, here am I,
Amidst the waves, alone, I lie.

Once, this place was home to me,
Now, a visitor, roaming free,
Exploring lands, yet roots won’t see,
Wandering wide, my destiny.

A past behind of sorrow’s song,
Pain so deep, it felt so wrong,
Loss and loneliness, days were long,
Until a guiding hand came strong.

Now, a nomad, a world to roam,
A traveler with skies, my dome,
Charting paths where dreams are sown,
Seeking joy, a place called home.

I sat and played with the guitar until I created a melody and began to sing.