As the barge cut through the waves breaking onto the shore of the caldera, the engine fervently pushing them towards the greater ocean, Solae was infinitely grateful for one of her many genetic modifications made in generations past. Neither she nor Rene were prone to motion sickness. When the aristocracy was sailing the stars many, many years ago they quickly discovered the inconvenience that was any of nobility falling ill due to motion sickness. Most spaceships were more like their aircraft predecessors than their sea relatives, but there was a certain amount of turbulence, especially with interstellar jumps, that could make anyone predisposed empty their stomach and have profound vertigo. Scientists had been tasked with eliminating this weakness that marred their image. It was a minor enough alteration that it had not been subject to the same sort of controversy that surrounded gender selection, aesthetic meddling, and fitness enhancements. The marquise could only surmise that Damaris's tolerance (or immunity) was due to the necessity of her environment. Everyone on Panopontus needed to traverse by boat; only the wealthy could afford better and this planet was not populated by the upper class. Once could rightly assume that the affluent quickly left this world for one of more luxuries as soon as they were able.

"Not the best chanty for right now," Solae murmured in Rene's ear. She was not trying to be critical but she recognized that the reference to 'peril' might unnerve their young passenger. Fortunately Damaris was not paying attention to either one of them. The girl's lips were pressed together tightly as she clutched her seat until her knuckles turned white. Their adolescent friend's eyes were fixated on the horizon in a vacant stare that spoke to either being consumed in fear or actively disassociating from the horror.

Tempted as Solae was to fish out the medical kit for a sedative, just so that her companion would not have to relive her trauma, she knew that would hurt more than help. Sleeping through the journey would grant Damaris an escape from facing her fears, but doing so would almost certainly exacerbate the issue later. Confronting the ocean now could help keep it from festering and anchoring itself so deeply in her psyche there was irreparable damage. One could only imagine how paralyzing it would to dwell on a planet that was classified as "largely aquatic" and be terrified of the coastline. The linguist reasoned there was a great deal of difference, however, between ignoring Damaris completely and enabling through an offer to travel unconscious. What was needed was comforting and reassurance.

"Do you like to read, Damaris?" she asked, tapping gently on the girl's fingers so as not to startle her.

"Read?" Damaris repeated with surprise. Solae had used this tactic on her before and for good reason; an unanticipated change of topic to one seemingly unconnected to the present tended to grab attention. It made a person unconsciously start trying to deduce what had caused the change of subject. Regardless of whether or not such a discovery could be made the brain naturally tried to forge the connections on its own.

"I know how to speak and read a lot of languages," the noblewoman confessed. "When I was in school my teachers were fond of making us read a story in one language, then try to read or translate it into a language we were learning. Do you know what happened? It helped me learn more quickly but it also meant there were a few stories that I had spent so much time reading, and trying re-write in another language, that I remember them very well." Of course Rene knew there was more to it than what she was divulging. Members of the Empress's court and their families typically had incredible memories from the scientific intervention that guaranteed their beauty. Solae's memorization was equal parts repetition and an ability she had been born with. "What if I told you a story while Rene gets us home?"

"What kind of story?" Damaris inquired with a touch of hesitation.

There was a bit of negotiation to be had on which precise tale would be recited. For someone so young Damaris was surprisingly discerning on what she did and did not want, which created a challenge for Solae's limited mental library, but they settled on a relatively modern fable that was penned approximately two centuries ago. Coincidentally the moral that was the theme was tolerance of cultural differences and the importance of cooperation to thrive. There were no Syshin characters or allusions, for bringing in a subjugated race would not have allowed it any amount of success, but they could have been interchanged with the human foreigners.

It took the entirety of the fable, a hearty discussion on metaphors, and a second shorter story that was ancient and centered around a poisonous maiden before San Roayo was close enough that the engine had to be throttled to keep them from crashing into the rocky outcroppings. Damaris had drifted over next to Solae during the ride and they had huddled together for warmth. The air had chilled as the day drew on, the sun dipping below the horizon, and the sky darkened. The dip in temperature had proved to be their biggest discomfort. As if tired from the record-breaking waves created by the typhoon, there were relatively small tides between the land masses, and Rene encountered little difficulty in steering towards their target. All of these factors had bolstered Damaris's confidence significantly. Instead of shrinking back she leaned forward and squinted at the lights and shadows emerging from the craggy rock and grassy hills that dominated the island she called home.

"I think we need to go north- to the left," she told them with the assumption their first destination was her house. Solae glanced to Rene for confirmation he wanted to drop off Damaris before proceeding further. It was her belief this was the best course of action but she didn't want to be a dictator giving out orders. They were equals in their adventure and endeavors. He had just as much weight in their decisions as she did... even if she suspected sometimes he didn't find himself deserving or wanting of such.