Kid looks out over the railing of what remains of the Bastion, hands tightening on the wood and steel. It's a trace of home. Caelondia was a beautiful city; misguided some would say, and they wouldn't be wrong, but beautiful either way.

Can't blame him for missing the place.

Know I do.

Can't blame him for pulling the switch and sending us out into the unfamiliar beyond.

Know I don't.

Emptiness out here scares him, I think. Floatin' through the sky with nothing to really hold us up or down. Kid likes grounded things; weighted things. Stuff he can hold in his hand and say 'yeah, that's real alright' to. Grounded people, too. Nacie, girl he fancied, was like that. Kept her head out of the clouds - hard thing to do when you're living in 'em, and he respected that - and on what was important. Zia's like that too, and don't think for a second the Kid ain't noticed.

You can go right ahead and think he hasn't noticed the way she looks at him, though.

She approaches him, puts a hand on his arm. Kid fumbles his words around; tongue-tied. Zia laughs and even Zulf cracks a grin from the shade. Kid can take down windbags and anklegators like he eats them for breakfast, but nothing's a match for the Ura girl. Pecker squawks real loud all of a sudden and he jumps, scratching at the bandage on his cheek.

Kid manages to say something and they talk for awhile.

Zulf looks away; thinking about the girl he lost. Hard not to be reminded of the ones you care about when you look at them. Hard not to feel the sting, sharp as an Ura arrow.

Sun sets red and I turn the wheel, taking us down.

Kid builds a fire and Zia and Zulf get to cooking. Never been keen on foreign food, but somehow it always ends up tasting like home when they make it. Kid ain't so picky and wolfs down every meal like it's his last. Grammophone plays in the background, out of rhythm with the knife on the cutting board. Zia hums to herself and I can tell her fingers are itching to get bad at those guitar strings. Reckon Zulf can tell too, with how he's rushing the meal.

Thick stew again, rich and hearty.

Kid slumps against a wall, eyes shut and stomach fuller than a scumbag's. She sits next to him and wraps his arm 'round her shoulder before strumming her song. Kid's too tired to get flustered. He's got a lot of sleep to catch up on. Lots of dreams he let die when he went to the Rippling Walls.

After awhile, she sets down her guitar and just rests with him, blue headscarf against the red one around his neck. Zulf follows suit with the squirt and I lie down too before long, looking up at the sky through the holes in the wood. Can barely make out the stars, but I can see the color slowly change as the moon passes and the clouds blow along.

Time passes, and none of us dream of Caelondia tonight.

We set our sails during the Calamity and found a new home.