The Diffident Bat does not like being sent scouting. Not one bit. Double drabble.

Poem. A zailor falls from the Neath to the High Wilderness.

Many people still the sun shining through the clouds and smog, washing London in dull light. Now that the city relocated to the depths of the Earth and acclimated to the new heavens above them, quite a few yearn for that enormous ball of fire in the sky. Unfortunately, the relapse might be more than one can handle...

On surface, you cut Gordian knot. In Neath, Gordian knot cut you.

Many battles have been fought, and won. Many struggles with the horrors and wonders of the Neath have been, if not won, at least survived. Aestival has been settled, renamed Sanctuary...and so now, of course, the real work begins.

Orphaned by the zee and disease, Benjamin s an urchin gang, where he gains the nickname 'Barefoot Benjamin'. He rises to the top of the gang, but he longs to zail the zee like his father did. What new adventures lay ahead, beyond the light of Fallen London?

Zailing is not a safe choice of career.