Hem stared at the star-filled sky and breathed shallowly, indulging in the lonely thoughts that kept him awake while Breema snoozed in stillness beside him. The Island Realm had unintentionally become home in a way he had not anticipated.

The hammock swayed slightly as he slipped out of it, careful not to disturb Breema. She was a heavy sleeper so he did not worry much about waking her. He shrugged on a couple of layers of Targrentizer Fabric and shuffled down the sand and stepped into the Heated Waters of the Big Ocean. Neat trick o’ the region made this big ol’ Ocean warm as a bath during the night. It had something to do with the volcanic cores beneath the surface, constantly blowin’ out hot stuff and heating the whole region! Nobody knew that was the cause o’ course and instead attributed it to the great red dragon that shot fire into the water. And that too contributed to the heat o’ the thing. Lots of stuff goin’ around and makin’ the world what it was.

Hem peered into the dark horizon, straining to mark the line that separated sea from sky. It was not possible but he imagined he could see it, a blurry line dividing the world. It was in truth a dark cobalt veil, covering the distant waves and revealing nothing of what lay beyond it.

These days Hem did not think much of his youth in Gilba Gilba, having left it nigh on two decades previous. But there were times (times such as now as you rightly guess) that his mind traveled the distance and the decades to those careless forays into the woods, he couldn’t even remember the name of ‘em. And that canyon, the Nurmermemrer Canyon. That harrowing encounter with the Jibberjab. At the time it had seemed like life was about to change forever, that he would be thrust into a wider world of disarray and danger. The reality was far less exciting.

Hem was reminded of Blom and Glen, and the Ragged Maiden, for no reason. Probably the narrator just wanted to contrive this scene of a grown adult reminiscing about the artifacts of an ancient childhood. He had lost touch with those fellas shortly after departing the Outlands despite mutual promises to write letters. Letter-writin’ bein’ what it was, nobody had much inkling to take it up. Melley too had vanished into memories. In his mind she still lived at the end of the lane there in Gilba Gilba, near the Ragged Maiden.

Melley had wanted to come with him. He could not remember why she didn’t. He could not remember much of the decisions he made two decades previous.

The Catcher’s Moon rose low in the west, hanging like a dull lamp in the indigo sky. Omens were omens, and Hem could not shake the oldest of those superstitions. What had happened to Bram and Crawley? Hem had never learned of their fates.

He went back to Breema, who was still dozing contentedly. He climbed back in next to her and continued staring at the tiny stars peeking out from between the palm fronds above them.