Currently untitled fic: prologue

Aug 11, 2012 01:02


Pirate fic. That is all.
So far.



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               Sunrise blossomed over the horizon as The Duchess neared port, setting the sky gloriously ablaze. Clouds were a riot of flames as sunlight gleamed over the waters. The crew watched Mother Nature’s spectacular show, their hearts joyous, relieved. Land at last. After weeks out at sea, at the fickle whim of the waves and weather, they could finally relax. Soon they would step on dry land, safe and whole.

For their journey had not been a good one. Dogged by bad luck from the moment they had set sail, dark clouds had hovered just beyond reach for the first two weeks, growing ever darker and more ominous. Finally, it caught up to them, swollen and heavy with rain that burst out over them with flashes of lightning and screams of thunder, threatening to drown them where they stood. Once it had abated they had lost three good men, most of their cargo and a considerable portion of their supplies. The captain immediately ordered what remaining food and drink they had to be rationed. What was left of their cargo doubly secured in order to preserve their remaining profit, and a rota was drawn up to check on them every hour.

That was just the beginning. Their entire voyage was plagued by sea monsters. An unheard of number of beasts assaulted them, so that it seemed that the King of the Sea himself had set his entire menagerie against them. Only decades of experience at sea coupled with the handful of travelling mercenaries who had bartered their services against any dangers the ship might encounter in exchange for safe passage to their destination had saved the captain and his steadfast crew. They faced dangers untold and fought tooth and nail for their lives- but no more.

No more waves to toss them about, no more storms to stray their course, no monsters of the deep to gnash its fangs at them, wanting to feast upon their flesh and their souls. Soon they would dock, unload their surviving cargo, take whatever pay they could scrounge, and care for their spiritual and physical needs. They would find a tavern with beds and mattresses to sleep in, hot, freshly cooked food to feast upon, and endless supply of alcohol to indulge in as they re-acquainted themselves with the tender warmth of a woman’s flesh next to theirs. There, they were close enough now that they could see the little town begin to wake, people bustling sleepily on the streets, ready to start a new day.

Then, the explosion.

Barrels of gun powder stored in the hold, to be delivered to the local military outpost, roared like a massive beast of flame as it blasted forth, smashing the ship into splinters. Fire greedily devoured everything it touched with a hunger that could never be sated, painting the world orange, white and gold as men screamed. Some burned instantly before they even knew what had happened. Others melted slowly in a scorching embrace. Others still were stabbed by flying splinters as they ran to save themselves. They were too far from shore to swim all the way. They scrambled over the sides of their vessel, looking for the small, wooden boats that were their only hope. Boats that weren’t there.

With no other choice left, they threw themselves overboard to the mercy of the sea.

Back at the docks, people had already seen the explosion. Sailors rushed into action even as other men gaped, women gasped and children pointed. They organised themselves into rescue parties and lowered themselves onto the water, ready to pull up any survivors once they reached them.

Then, a single glowing splinter soared over the waters. It drifted slowly down to the surface. It landed on the unnoticed arc of oil; about six inches wide, floating on the water, entirely surrounding the bow of the ship. The oil ignited. An insurmountable wall flared up over the water. The rescue teams could not reach the panicked sailors. Some were able to dive beneath the hellish crescent and swim towards safety. Others were too injured or too frightened and unthinking to do so. They drowned.

Later that night, no amount of harsh disbelief and reasoning could dispel the survivors’ tale. Rumours spread in the town much as the blaze had on the ship. Tales of a slight, almost childish, figure moving among the flames. Where the figure stepped, the flames grew hotter, brighter. Glimpses of it striding carelessly within fire as if strolling in a  park. Where it went, nobody knew.

Well of course no one knew, people argued. It didn’t exist. It was a hallucination, brought on by the heat and stress. No one could enter an explosion and walk through fire unharmed.

But we really saw it, cried the seamen less seriously injured than their friends. We saw it with our own eyes, sure as the stars in the sky tonight!

So the argument continued into the night, as a shadow moved within shadows. A slight, filthy stranger wandered the streets, contemplating her next move. First, food and drink. It had been hard work, lowering a lifeboat gently onto the sea unnoticed, then cutting its ropes and pushing it to drift away into the night. The possibility getting caught by one or more of those mercenaries had been worrying, but she had always done her best to appear shy and frightened and five years younger than she actually was. Luckily, she looked very young for her age. Then, she had to sneak off and dive into icy cold despite her body’s protests, swimming several metres in front of the ship and creating an arc with a huge, airtight bag full of oil while most of the crew slept and those on duty were absorbed in their card games. Thank goodness for neglectful old men who grew complacent once land was sighted. After that, she allowed herself to get caught roaming the ship at night, and was locked in the hold as punishment. Near dawn she bustled about, positioning barrels and arranging fuses as quietly as possible, stuffing her pockets with as many valuables as she could safely carry while the entire crew and their passengers went up on deck to rejoice and admire the view. Finally, she stuffed the doors with cloth to prevent the smoke from escaping as she struck a match and set everything alight, struggling with her weak magic to force the flames that could never hurt her into a shield to protect her from the force of the blast and the resulting flying projectiles that could very much hurt her as she dove into the sea. It seemed to recoil from her touch and give of a sense of hostility, letting her know, as always, that she was not welcome in the watery realm. She swam for the safety of the boats.

All this after weeks of minimal nourishment, as the captain had decreed after the storm that someone as small and skinny as “him” didn’t need much in the way of feeding, and besides, “he” wasn’t even supposed to be there anyway. “He” should be grateful to be receiving anything at all.

Well. She was grateful. So grateful, in fact, that she had arranged this spectacular light show in farewell. Usually, she didn’t bother. Just saunter about, sloshing their beloved rum or ale or what have you, depending on what ship she was on, everywhere. Light a match. Drop it. Jump overboard and swim to the boat she had prepared just before starting. Row away and watch the pretty lights as she did. Done.

Next time, perhaps she would commandeer a small vessel she could sail on her own again. Roam the seas, going wherever the wind took her once more. Board any vessel that came her way, spin a heart-wrenchingly tragic tale, eat and drink her fill. Amuse herself with watching the silly humans prance about in their self-importance. Leave a thank you present, sneak off with all the supplies her boat can carry, and watch the oblivious fools make their journey to… well, oblivion. And on to the next port.

For now, though, she was on land. She would savour each moment of it as every step became more painful than the last, growing colder as she grew farther away from the hated sea that plagued each second she spent on it  with disaster, dulling the heat that her magic generated until she was barely warmer than a corpse. She would use her ill-gained loot to treat herself to some nice new clothes that would never bring her warmth, gorge on food that she could never taste while the ground was solid beneath her feet, marvel at beauty that barely stirred her numb heart. Then back to the sea, however she chose to do so, so that she could sate her hunger, quench her thirst, warm her flesh once more.

Clouds parted and the silvery moon shone down on Edana as she walked, lost in thought beneath the mask of absolute blankness upon her face.

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