Ethar came from Oskerra, once among those who ferried between the isles, carrying provisions and news from shore to shore. It was work done to the sea’s own rhythm — not loud or storied, but steady as breathing. In time he settled on Farra with Alda, trading the passage between islands for a place at the harbour, tending boats, keeping them tarred, mended, and ready.
He worked in rhythm with others — a steady hand on ropes, a calm word when storms closed in. He did not rise to fame or deed, but without men like him, no sail would leave the shore. Quiet endurance was his gift, the kind that held through hunger, through lean seasons, through the years. He gave his daughters not boldness but constancy: a boat always mended, a path always held open, no matter the tide.