Several weeks after Grik returned from the western continent, the coastal settlement no longer spoke about his expedition as a strange tale told by a stubborn boatbuilder. The proof stood everywhere. Strange timber rested beside the shipyard, unfamiliar seeds had been planted in small test plots, medicinal plants brought across the ocean were being examined by healers, and six goblins from the distant continent still lived among them while slowly learning the local language. The battered ship that had once left the bay alone now rested on supports near the beach, where craftsmen studied every repaired plank and reinforced beam as if examining a sacred object.
Chief Hark called the settlement together beside the shipyard before sunrise. Fishermen, hunters, farmers, craftsmen, traders, and elders filled the open ground while the waves broke against the shore behind them. Grik stood near the front with Kobb, watching several boatbuilders move around his old vessel.
Hark raised one hand until the crowd quieted.
"Grik crossed the ocean with one ship and fewer than twenty goblins. He returned with proof of another continent, another people, and resources we have never seen before."
Several heads turned toward Tarek and the western visitors standing nearby.
Hark continued.
"He also returned with a ship that looked as though the sea had chewed it and changed its mind."
Laughter moved through the crowd.
Grik crossed his arms.
"It still floated and done it job."
"Barely, it is unreliable."
The laughter grew louder.
Hark pointed toward the old vessel.
"That ship taught us important lessons. The western continent can be reached, but the sea is not going to make the journey easy. If we cross again, we will not send one vessel and hope it survives."
The crowd became quieter.
Hark turned toward the half-finished hulls already being constructed farther down the beach.
"We will send a fleet."
The reaction was immediate.
Merchants began whispering to one another. Fishermen stared toward the new vessels. Several younger goblins who had once refused to accompany Grik during his first expedition now pushed forward as though worried someone might leave without them.
Kobb leaned closer to Grik.
"You spent years trying to convince anyone to give you enough timber for one ship."
Grik looked toward the growing shipyard.
"Now they are willingly cutting down trees half the coast."
"That is because you discovered a profitable venture."
Grik smiled faintly.
"That is usually more convincing than curiosity."
Hark had already approved the construction of ten ocean-going vessels. Grik’s original design served as the foundation, but none of the new ships would be exact copies. The first voyage had exposed too many weaknesses for that.
Grik spent the following months moving constantly between the construction sites. Every vessel received reinforced internal ribs, additional braces around the mast, wider drainage gaps, and stronger cargo restraints. Freshwater containers were divided between several storage compartments so a single leak could not ruin the entire supply. Spare timber was shaped before departure and stored below deck, ready to replace damaged planks without forcing crews to improvise during a storm.
The western craftsmen who had traveled back with Grik became equally important.
One of them, a quiet goblin named Darek, demonstrated how his people twisted thin local fibers into ropes that remained flexible after long exposure to seawater. Eastern rope makers initially dismissed the technique because the individual strands looked weak.
Darek took several strands, braided them together, and challenged one of the larger fishermen to break the finished rope.
The fisherman wrapped it around both hands and pulled until his arms shook.
Nothing happened.
Kobb watched from beside Grik.
"We crossed an ocean and brought home a goblin who makes better rope."
Darek understood enough of the eastern language to answer.
"Better rope. Better boat."
Kobb looked offended.
"I helped build the boat."
Darek grinned.
"Then better rope helps bad builder."
Several craftsmen burst into laughter while Kobb stared at Grik.
"You taught him that."
"I did not need to."
The exchange of knowledge spread through the shipyard. Eastern boatbuilders taught the western craftsmen how to construct deeper ocean hulls, while the western goblins showed them new resins and fiber treatments. Seka shared several preserved medicines she had prepared from western plants, and farmers experimented with seeds gathered near Varok’s settlement.
The preparation of the fleet began changing the entire coastal community.
Timber cutters worked farther inland than ever before. Rope makers expanded their workshops. Potters produced sealed containers for grain and water. Fishermen preserved catches specifically for the voyage rather than immediate consumption. Hunters prepared hides and weapons intended for exchange.
Trade had begun before the fleet even left the beach.
Chief Hark ordered representatives from several professions to join the expedition. Experienced sailors would crew the ships, hunters would provide security, craftsmen would evaluate western materials, and traders would determine what could be exchanged profitably.
Grik insisted on one additional rule.
Every ship received copies of his route records.
Hark examined one of the carved boards.
"You expect every captain to understand these scratches?"
"They will before we leave."
"Why not keep the records on your ship?"
Grik pointed toward the ocean.
"Because my ship can sink."
Hark studied him.
Grik continued.
"If all knowledge of the route stays with me, then everything we learned dies with me. Every captain should know the course, the warning signs, the currents, and where we saw land."
Hark nodded slowly.
"Then you should teach them."
For weeks, Grik gathered the captains around wooden boards and crude coastal maps. He explained where winds had shifted during his first crossing, when birds became more common, which currents had carried the ship south, and how the storm clouds had formed before the disaster.
He repeated one lesson more than any other.
"If you see the signs of bad weather, you reduce sail early. Do not wait until the wind forces you."
One younger captain asked, "What if we lose speed?"
Grik pointed toward his old ship.
"That is what happens when you care more about speed than staying alive."
The fleet carried more than supplies for survival.
Traders loaded woven cloth, tools, pottery, fishing hooks, preserved foods, agricultural seeds, carved ornaments, weapons, and crafted goods. Some items were ordinary on the connected continents but might be valuable in the west.
Tarek and the western craftsmen advised them whenever possible.
Darek pointed toward a pile of polished cutting tools.
"West want these."
One trader looked surprised.
"They are common."
Darek shrugged.
"Here."
He then pointed toward bundles of pale western timber stacked beside the shipyard.
"There, common."
The trader stared at the timber.
Grik laughed.
"That is why trade works."
By the time the fleet was ready, hundreds of goblins had gathered at the harbor. Nearly two hundred sailors, craftsmen, hunters, and traders were distributed across the ten vessels.
Grik stood aboard the lead ship, which was his original vessel rebuilt once again for the journey. It carried new planks, new rope, a stronger mast, and additional reinforcement added after the return voyage.
Kobb inspected the ships following them.
"Last time, nobody wanted to come."
Grik looked back at the crowded decks.
"Last time, nobody knew what was there."
The sails rose together.
The fleet left the bay.
The ocean crossing was still dangerous, but it no longer felt like sailing blindly into emptiness. Grik’s records gave the captains a rough route. Ships maintained distance from one another while staying close enough to exchange signals.
When the wind strengthened during the fifth day, the captains reduced their sails without argument.
Three days later, a storm passed north of the fleet.
The waves remained dangerous, but none of the ships suffered serious damage.
Grik watched the vessels rise and fall around him.
The same sea that had nearly destroyed his first expedition now seemed less mysterious.
The sea had not become safer.
The goblins had simply better preparations.
After many days, birds began appearing overhead.
Floating branches followed.
Tarek recognized several leaves and shouted toward Grik.
"West land close, I can feel it."
Grik nodded.
"Very close."
The western coastline appeared the following morning.
The sight of ten large ships approaching together caused panic along the shore.
Fishing boats hurried back toward land. Hunters gathered near the beach, and smoke signals rose from watch posts farther inland.
Grik ordered the other ships to remain offshore while his vessel moved ahead alone.
Tarek, Darek, and the other western travelers stood where they could be seen.
The moment their people recognized them, the tension began to change.
By the time Grik reached the beach, messengers had already summoned Chief Varok.
The old chief arrived surrounded by warriors and elders. He stopped near the water and stared past Grik toward the fleet anchored offshore.
"You returned."
His eastern speech had improved only slightly.
Grik smiled.
"I said I would."
Varok pointed toward the ships.
"wmWe brought many goblins."
Grik looked over his shoulder.
"I told you there were many goblins across the sea."
Varok shook his head slowly, but amusement appeared on his face.
Once the purpose of the expedition was explained, the beach transformed into a temporary market.
Eastern traders spread their goods across woven mats. Tools, pottery, cloth, fishing equipment, seeds, and preserved foods were displayed in organized groups. Western goblins responded with timber, medicinal plants, strong fibers, shells, dyes, hides, seeds, and unfamiliar crafted items.
Neither side understood the value of the other’s goods at first.
One eastern trader offered three cutting tools for a pile of pale timber large enough to repair half a fishing boat.
The western merchant accepted immediately.
Kobb watched the exchange.
"He robbed that goblin."
Grik looked toward the western trader, who was smiling broadly while examining the cutting tools.
"He probably thinks the same thing."
Elsewhere, an eastern healer traded pottery and dried herbs for bundles of western medicinal plants. Fishermen exchanged hooks and netting techniques. Craftsmen compared resins and woodworking methods.
Some trades failed completely.
One western merchant demanded what he believed was an enormous amount of cloth for several decorative shells. The eastern trader laughed and walked away.
Neither understood the insult the other shouted afterward, which probably prevented a fight.
The fleet remained near Varok’s settlement for several weeks.
As the days passed, trade became more organized. Temporary stalls turned into designated exchange areas. Goblins who understood both languages began acting as interpreters. Traders started recognizing which goods were common and which were rare.
Varok eventually met Grik beside the repaired landing area.
He pointed toward the eastern ships.
"Come again?"
Grik nodded.
"Yes."
Varok pointed toward his own people.
"West ships go east?"
Grik smiled.
"Yes."
That answer mattered more than any individual trade.
The route would not be monopolized to one tribe.
Both sides would use it.
Grik proposed that permanent supply stations be built near the landing areas on both continents. Ships could obtain freshwater, food, rope, repair materials, and information before beginning another crossing.
Varok agreed.
By the time the fleet prepared to leave, the cargo holds that had arrived filled with eastern goods now carried western products.
Several western traders also chose to travel east.
The first expedition had brought six witnesses.
This time, more than twenty western goblins boarded the fleet.
When the ten ships finally turned east, Noah watched them from far above.
For centuries, he had observed civilizations grow separately across the four continents. Distance had created different languages, traditions, religions, tools, and ways of life.
Now that separation was ending.
Ships carried more than timber and medicine across the ocean. They carried techniques, stories, beliefs, crops, tools, and ideas.
Grik stood near the bow of the lead vessel as the western coastline slowly disappeared behind them. Ten ships followed his course, their holds filled with goods from a land that had once existed only as a possibility inside his mind.
His first voyage had been made to answer a question.
Now the route across the western ocean was becoming something entirely different.
The horizon was no longer a boundary between two worlds.
It had become the road connecting them.
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