The midday sun beamed down and offered little relief to Hem and Breema, who were forced to stay above deck and navigate the treacherous Treacherous Lagoon. All sailors knew of it but Hem had never learned its history or its passages, for a-growin’ up in the Assol Outlands a youth had little need for the knowledge of Island Realm navigation.

Well he needed it now, and he didn’t have it. Breema was therefore in charge, callin’ out directions here n’ there for no discernible reason but he had no choice but to follow them. She had the training, growin’ up in the South o’ Things as she did.

“MAST OFF TO THE PORT!” she barked. Hem obeyed at once. Their craft continued. “BRING THE DORKIN OFF TO THE BLAR BLAM!!!!” Hem again obeyed. A terrific pillar of flame suddenly erupted behind them, engulfing their wake. The Heated Waters of the Big Ocean were especially heated in the Treacherous Lagoon. Pressurized HEAT would blast out from time to time; only a skilled sailor (SUCH AS BREEMA) could anticipate these breaches and navigate them. She was doing fine.

Hem wiped his forehead. Sweat and such was pourin’ off it. “HHOOOEEEYYYYY!!” he hollered to nobody in particular, but just for the thrill of it. He could never’ve dreamed he’d be doin’ this stuff. He wondered if his old pals Bram or Crawley could have imagined it. Probably not. They were not the imaginin’ types, Hem had slowly learned, to his haunting dismay.

“QUIET THERE HEM and PAY ATTENTION!” snapped Breema. “On my mark, HUCK THE RUCKSTER TO THE BRACKSTER…. NOW!!” Hem immediately complied and their craft veered out of the path of another flamin’ fire stack. So close this time he felt a wave of overwhelming heat. Have to focus. Focus on the Treacherous Lagoon.

“Few more of these mad maneuvers and we’re through the Lagoon!” exulted Breema, breathing with effort and grimacing through the steamy mists that covered their vision.

Hem gritted his teeth and trusted to Breema’s instincts. The Treacherous Lagoon was not a lengthy voyage, but it was intense, and intensity had a way of stretching time out to something meaningless. He stopped thinking about it and focused on the boiling waters beneath him, curious where the next fiery pillar would emerge.

“I think we’re through,” panted Breema before Hem could get settled in and await her next command. “Trees in the distance there.” She squinted. “The Burblerblurb Forest! We’re in the shallows now. No more tricky maneuvers.”

A proper fantasy quest then, ruminated Hem in the hazy bits of his brain. Nothin’ too original but it would do. He caught himself in his critical thoughts, reminded of the ol’ innkeep Blom Blomgrin. That fella had to have seen more parts of the world than anyone knew existed for him to have the crusty attitude that he did.