sailing from another world

Even though the fire spirit lady was a fucking nutcase, it got Wessex out to the River - the wide, fast-flowing river which led to god(dess) knows where. Except that Wessex wants to know where. What lies beyond? What treasures and tribulations wait for the sheltered, traumatized people of Caido in the great, dark beyond? The sun goes down on the late-Spring day, puffy white clouds turning a vibrant pink and orange in the darkening sky. Wessex stands at the edge of the path she once followed fireballs down, ready to boldly go where few of their kind have gone in at least three hundred and some odd years. She is as prepared as she was for the Spire: bow and quiver of arrows, a circle of sturdy rope, some small knives hidden in various places, and a pouch full of various herbs and bandages - just in case someone should join her who does indeed bleed, and then needs medical attention. Or something like that. Look, Wessex learned various little self-sustaining tricks when she was fully human, ok? She can stitch her own wounds up and everything. Anyway. She’s decided she’ll wait here for a bit, having spread the word that she'll be venturing forth two days or so ago. If no one comes, she’ll be off on her lonesome - no harm, no foul. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm