“I. Am. FRUSTRATED,” I yell at the top of my lungs. Only silence greets me in return. How could I have flown this fast for six days straight and still not made it back to our town? Where the hell is Melsy? Maybe at these speeds, I’d have made at least a full circuit already, or so I thought. I had planned on starting a second round south and work my way to the other pole. But I haven’t even gotten back to the first Gaia Tree I started at yet.
Not to mention, I could see Lillia from that tree. It would have been impossible to miss a Gaia Tree so out of place when compared to the rest. I’m, what? Hm, 3000 feet up? The Gaia Trees must be about 2000-2500 feet tall, themselves. So maybe about 100 miles away? That is if the earth and this planet have the same curvature. I’m so glad I programmed that radio wave simulator in my past life. The things you remember. I’m not so sure about this being the same size as Earth anymore.
Although, I kinda made that assumption on my own before, anyway. This is clearly bigger. Maybe, with a different curvature, I can see a few hundred miles?
Without any way to measure though, it’s pretty meaningless. Arbitrary distances, with arbitrary speeds. No way to measure. Gah.
Melsssssyyyyyyyyyy. Save me from myselffffffffff.
Before I know it, I’m going to be minecrafting a computer from basic materials like water and wood pipes out of desperation. Man, that’s such an old reference.
Melsy, save me!
I can do this. Just keep flying straight, and search for Melsy! Deep breaths. Go!
I fly up in the sky. Like a fish in a sock! I should never tell anyone about that. Although, without any lakes, no one will get the reference? Heh. Maybe I can make fish out to be some majestic animal or something.
Melsy, come hoooooome.
Honestly, flying like this, listening to nearby minds, searching for Melsy in them, I am astounded by the number of people inhabiting this planet. I’m convinced. It’s not that there aren’t a lot of people. It’s that they are spread so thin. Of what I’ve felt so far: I’m sure there are millions of bearfolk. Probably as many humes — they are harder to tell because the density of small towns muddles the thoughts together. As I’ve just hit the northernmost ring of Gaia Trees, I estimate only a hundred or so Dryads. Maybe 300 Dragonfolk? Not to mention (easily) several million orckin. They seem mostly clustered around “towns” of sorts. I say towns, but really, they are just barren spots on the ground. They must eat, literally, everything. I’ve felt a few other types of presences, but I’d rather find Melsy before investigating.
This is only the first, the northernmost circuit. How far south before I reach another ice wall, as Melsy has said?
Focus. Find the Melsy.
I feel like this is a bit akin to “Find the Waldo.”
I-is that really an ocean?
It’s an ocean.
Or a big lake.
I dub thee: Ocean Lake.
Goddess help me. No, no. Melsy, help me.
I fly down to inspect, and it’s a proper beach: yellow-gold sand, a gentle slope into the water, and endless beachfront in both directions, north and south.
No! No! Fly! Find Melsy!
I should bring my children here to play on the beach some time. Ulg, I miss my children as well. I want to go home with everyone.
It’s interesting that the Gaia Trees have the same periodic occurrence, even with the water. I also sense a great number of sentient beings beneath the surface. Some of them seem very strong. Like, nearing Gaia’s oppressive aura size. Frightening.
Maybe I could measure the world in Gaia Tree distances? That throws off all my sense of how to think about things though. Well, I guess that wouldn’t be terrible. Maybe I should have been counting them?
Ah, it’s starting to get dark out. I should probably make pleasantries with the next Dryad and Gaia Tree. There isn’t any land in sight, and I certainly can’t breathe in water.
And down we go. Huh?
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I look around the canopy of the Gaia Tree I just landed in.
“Hello?” I didn’t sense them. Odd. They aren’t like the shielded that lives with us. They don’t act like a black hole. It seems more like their presence is just so thin I didn’t recognize them as sentient creatures.
“A hume? Flying? Stink like Dargonkin.”
“Hah, yeah, I haven’t taken a bath since,” I pause. “Uh, anyways, I was hoping I could stay the night here? I’ll leave in the morning.” If I get along with them, I should request some food too. I only have one Lillia fruit left.
A few of them come out from behind large tree limbs. Oh. Oh! Harpies! They look like… wait, no. It’s a mix of harpies and angels?
Author’s Note: Thanks for the support! Sometimes, I feel like Tristain is a mix of a dork, an idiot, and a clingy puppy.