When the Oracle Head spoke, it said to go to a certain ale-house down on the coast. He was to ask the owner of the tavern for a man named Arjun. He was told to go outside in the back by the wall. It was a foggy night and the airs were a color Gryffyn found unsettling. The figure sat alone at the table in the furthest corner of the porch that looked out over the sea. Gryffyn couldn't see him clearly for the fog until he got within a man's length of him. "Faolain?" The moon glowed sickly pale in the fog on the water over his shoulder. How fitting. He realized then where the fog had come from. Faolain had summoned it. Faolain was Gryffyn's long lost blood brother. He'd been to the Great Western Land many times as well as the Orient. He'd become a wealthy man for it. He hadn't seen Faolain in years. "You haven't changed." "I wonder why, brother." He didn't get up. He wasn't one of those who had to do so for the Druid, because he was a Pilot which put them on nearly equal terms. You couldn't go all the places Faolain had been, as many times, if you weren't one of the best pilots in the world. Besides, he was Gryffyn's full-blood brother which made him exempt as it was. "You seem surprised! Did you think the Oracle would give you just any pilot?" He laughed and smiled his wickedly charming smile. "Sit! Have some wine. Can't say you have, either." He poured Gryffyn a horn full. "I got five boats ready - up the coast a way. Do we need more?" "Nay. That'll do us, I think." "North or south, is it?" Faolain's dark red 'horse's tail' fell over his shoulder as he bent down to retrieve a map-scroll. He drained his drinking horn and laid it aside, then rolled out the map. "Where ye really need to go is as far to the west as ye can, and then north. I been up in this gulf here. Huge river comin' out there. Sailed up it a way. Lots o' things with big sharp teeth and serpents. Made me feel right at home!" he cackled. "I doubt big as it is, any branches go as far west as we need to get. Seein' that it'll be winter in the north when we get there, I say we go south. It's longer but it will put us in the best place." He pointed to their island and moved his finger west and south, around a long, thin promontory of land and up into this gulf. His finger moved past the big river, around the northern coast of the bay. "Here, there's a large island, but they get bad storms that wash everything away. Over here, there's fire-mountains, Gryffyn. Gems, gold, silver...lumber like you wouldn't believe. It's where ye want to be, mate!" "How long?" Gryffyn asked, examining Faolain's map with great interest. It was the first time he'd ever seen a map of that other place. His own brother made it! "With fair winds and Father's blessing, we'll be there in two moons or there-abouts. I'll be stayin', Gryffyn. I aint crossin' no more after this. It's time to quit and do somethin' else." "Good. I'm glad to have you with us. I'm sure Fayidh and Maeve will be too - and Fionna. Tomorrow night, then!" Gryffyn rolled the map back up. "What's that you're smoking?" "They call it 'tabak'. It grows wild. It's like beedis - you roll up the leaf and smoke! She always had a thing for me, ye know...," Faolain grinned and shut one eye as the smoke curled up from his lips. "...pretty Fionna." "She's a lot smarter, now," Gryffyn said and laughed. "You say you heard what happened?" "Word gets around...." Faolain's lip twitched, his eyes flashed and he snapped his teeth. He was like his brother that way, just a different sort. "That's alright. I've got a whole land of women waiting for me, when I get back." ***** Faolain (Phelan, Faolain or Felan) is one of the words for 'wolf' in Irish. It's pronounced like Waylon, only with an F ;) Background hand-painted, filters. Faolain Poser figure by me. Digital painting, mixed-media. Zoom for details. Enjoy your week and thank you so very much for dropping by! :* Rayvn