One of those “air-locks” was involved in exiting the submersible so that George and the elves could make their way to the base of the Wonderdome. Another “air-lock” was built into the Wonderdome at that point. These “air-locking” systems exchanged a water-filled environment for an air-filled one, or vice versa. That way, people and things could be moved into or out of the submersibles or the Wonderdome itself. Genius! thought George. Moving from the submersible to the Wonderdome was more than a little awkward. The elves swam gracefully and with ease, but George, though he could swim, was not nearly as proficient. Also, George couldn’t really see. The wide entirely-pupil looking eyes of the sea elves were perfectly adapted to this environment, but George’s eyes not so much. After a few moments of floundering about blindly, George felt a strong hand take his. He figured it was Stingray’s since the young elf had been given charge of him. Sure enough, when George was inside the Wonderdo

To prevent the silent pause from dragging on awkwardly, George just opened his mouth and started rambling. Whatever he had been planning to say, he just couldn’t remember and there wasn’t time to organize his thoughts all over again now. As George Fothergill, Sr.’s son, he had been to enough of these kinds of functions in the Society of Sorcerers Born to wing it, or so he hoped. He remembered one of the techniques one of his father’s friends had taught him. Tell a story. The audience won’t mind if they hear information they already know, so long as it's told entertainingly. So, that’s what he did. “When I was snatched from the deck of The Singsong by the kraken, I thought I was going to die, painfully. But, thanks to you, dear friends, whose ancestors were friends of my ancestors, I didn’t. I shall be eternally grateful.” There was applause. George sat down relieved that was over. That should have been a long enough remark to accept a toast. “Mommy,” Mina, apparently Nereia’s gran

The three dimensional lightshow that George would later learn to call a holographic presentation started by showing a spherical representation of Zorethea. His classrooms had had globes in them, so George recognized it instantly. The presented view zoomed in on various locations: jungles, oceans, deserts, mountains, swamps, coastlines, permanently frozen polar regions, and more. The narrator continued past his introduction. “Zorethea brims with a vast diversity of lifeforms, most of them native to Zorethea…” Here the hologram displayed birds flying, humans building a village, orc horse warriors fighting goblin wolfriders in some foothills (with a closeup of a horse bringing its full body weight down on its front hooves crushing a dire wolf’s skull in, and a crocodile sunning itself next to a pond before slipping away into the pond when a much larger thirsty elephant came over to the pond for a drink. “...and some whose ancestors came to Zorethea from other worlds.” Here the hol

“You cannot possibly expect me to teach this…this…terakva.” The sea elf school teacher veritably spat the last word. Dirt walker. thought George. That's how they all see me around here, all except Nereia, and that green-haired girl, Sirena. In spite of everything that seemed to be going poorly that morning, one thing had lifted George's spirits immeasurably. One of the servants at Nereia's house had brought him a card from the green-haired girl, who had signed it Sirena. George, Although I’m sure it didn’t seem like a wonderful new beginning at the time, it looks like a new life began for you when the kraken grabbed you from the deck of The Singsong. Please forgive me for being glad that it did, because if it hadn’t, I’d never have gotten to meet you. I’d like to meet with you after your first day of school today. Is that alright with you? If it is, meet me at the Great Conch Shell after school. Sirena P.S. If you don’t remember me, we spoke after your toast speech at Ne

The afternoon went much like the morning had before recess. George made sure to ask the younglings if they knew of the Great Conch Shell. They laughed as if George not having heard of it was just the funniest thing.“Everyone knows the Great Conch Shell, silly!” Misty chided him. “It’s where all the rich people eat.”“Eat?”“Yeah! It’s a restaurant, silly!”“A restaurant?” George was confused. He’d expected some called the Great Conch Shell to be a monument, like a statue in a Society city on the surface, a monument made from the shell of one of the giant sea creatures down here. Sirena wants to eat with me at a restaurant?“My dad says it’s too expensive,” the boy who had asked George’s age earlier intoned solemnly, as if his father labeling a place as too expensive was the gravest indicator that a place was absolutely no good.George reeled! Sirena wants to eat with me at an expensive restaurant?Loreweaver Kelp cut off side conversations at this point and got the class focused