Author´s note: I recently discovered Adventures of Sinbad again and watched the complete first season. I never watched the second though, so the storyline of this little story takes place after season 2 and not mentioning much of what went on there, also because this is supposed to be a Sinbad / Maeve fic eventually.

Well, what else to say… taking place 2 years after Mave was washed overboard. Hope you enjoy. Please drop a line ;-)

Disclaimer: Even though I wish I owned Sinbad, nope, I don´t. I´m just toying around with these people and promise to give them back when I´m done with them.

Chapter 1

Lost and found

It was an unnatural fog – one of the like they had not sailed through for quite a time, years most likely. The sight was so bad that they could not see ahead further than a stone throw, but it seemed there were no dangers after all, for the wind was merely a breeze that was strong enough to make the sails of the Nomad billow slightly. At least they were not caught on the spot with no winds to take them from here, Sinbad thought as he left his place by the tiller to Firouz for a moment and looked up to the crows nest where one of the crew was looking out, trying to see through the mist – without much of a success as he was sure, which was the reason why he did not even bother to yell up there asking if the man could see any land. If there was any it was hidden from their view.

Sinbad was feeling weary. The journey had started as a routine, shipping a load of random goods from the port of Baghdad to a small island somewhere near the southern end of Greece. Things had gone according to plan. No strange adventures, no troubles, no dangers more threatening than the fact that they had nearly run out of drinking water by now since the journey back was going much slower than they had expected. He was getting weary of it all, the fog, the slow pace they had been making for the last three days and the silence. Bryn had left the Nomad a couple of weeks ago. She had been a good companion, a friend and Sinbad had been sad to see her go for reasons he was only now beginning to fully understand. Bryn had been a replacement for Maeve. He had grieved for Maeve, more than he had openly shown, he had missed her from the day she had been swept from his ship. And then there had been Bryn. Taking her place in the crew, being a friend. But more than once he had looked at her and wished things had not come this way. More than once. And now that Bryn was gone, the gap was back. And it hurt again.

Sinbad tore his gaze off the distance he had been staring into and turned around to walk back to the tiller.

"We will need to ration water if this mist does not vanish with the morning." He told Firouz who stepped aside again to let the captain take over again. "We should have brought more right away."

"We should have." Firouz agreed, but not adding more.

Sinbad pondered. If his calculations were correct, and he thought that over the years as a sailor his inner maps had become rather accurate, they were not far off a group of islands, and not too far off Baghdad for that manner. If they kept the direction they were going, they should have those islands to their right the next day, even going at the pace they were right now. "Let´s not worry about it." He therefore said, giving Firouz a crooked smile. "No fog lasts forever."

And again the ship was silent, wearing down on him more than the fog itself.

It had been just a guess but it turned out true. The next morning after just a few hours of drowsy sleep, the sun broke through the mist, reflecting through it dimly at first and later making it vanish just as if it was snow withering in the warmth. They were all relieved, even more so since with the mist leaving, a good breeze returned, filling the Nomad´s sails again and taking her faster across the waves. However, something in the back of his mind told Sinbad that it was too early to be cheerful. The day looked perfectly fine, just a few clouds and with the pace they were making now it should be too far, but something was at odds. He kept looking out for the groups of islands he had been thinking about earlier, but they never appeared. Not in the morning and when the sun was starting to set again there was still not a single bit of them to see, not even against the horizon. It was impossible, their compasses were working as they always did but if Sinbad had not known better he would have said that they were lost. More than they had been in the fog.

"What are you thinking about little brother?" Doubar had a good intention when it came to Sinbad. He sat down next to the younger man who was standing at the reiling, a leg propped against the banister, looking out thoughtfully into the distance. "Nothing special." Sinbad replied. "Just that all of this seems… unfamiliar." For someone who had never sailed the seas this would have been a strange thing to say, for a merchant or someone who did not know the oceans every wave would have looked the same. But Doubar understood. "I have been wondering the same." he said. "Do you think we have lost our track?" "If we have I can´t explain it." Sinbad said with a small sigh. "We stuck to our course, but I get the feeling we are somewhere else entirely. We should have passed a row of islands by now and I do not believe they simply vanished."

The sun set without any sight of the islands and Sinbad being more tired than ever. He had not slept the night before, a strange sort of restlessness that he connected to the mist for some reason keeping him awake and making him careful. It was already past midnight judging to the course of the stars when Doubar insisted on him to retire and find some sleep. And strangele, even though he was still feeling restless and the thought that they might be lost somewhere in unknown waters was unsettling, he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

With sleep came dreams, dreams of a strange sort, manifestations of his hidden fears. Shapes in the mist approaching him, creeping up the planks of the Nomad where he was standing, unable to move or speak. Mist running up the masts, seeming to enchant the sails, making the sway as the mist wanted them to sway, straying from their paths. Sinbad, dreaming, could do nothing but watch, standing there on his eerily silent ship with noone else in sight in this dream. Alone. The mist crept closer, starting to curl around his ankles with him being unable to fight it or get away. He didn´t even feel anything, it was just a strange and unsettling thing to happen. And then the mist gained shape. Became more solid. Formed a female body.

"Maeve?!" His voice sounded strange to his own ears, distant in a way, but it bore every bit of disbelief that could be expected from someone who had been missing another person for two years now and believed to have found her, not realising this was not real, just a dream. The mist fell from her like a cloak, leaving her solid, looking as he knew her, as he had last seen her. She had not changed. Her hair was the same flaming red, her eyes looked just the way he remembered them. Her clothing was different, for she was robed in black, a long, wide gown cloaking her silhouette and part of her hair hidden under a wide hood. "Where have you been, Maeve?" he asked, still disbelieving. She just watched him before doing a step closer and touching his cheek with a hand. An unreal, loving caress, one of the like they had never exchanged back then. "It doesn´t matter." she told him. "Will you come and find me?" Her voice was calm and without fear or any other hint of emotion. "Find you? But I have found you." He gave back, confused. She replied with a smile before she vanished and Sinbad woke again, finding he had been dreaming.

It was a dream that lingered, long after he had gotten back to work that day, seeing to the ship, giving orders to the crew. His restlessness was gone, replaced by something that was almost worse. The feeling that he had to do something, that he had to get somewhere and he caught himself thinking that he was no longer worrying about the strange unknown waters they were sailing. It didn't matter any more now that he was more curious where they were than why they were here. Deep inside, Sinbad had the feeling there would be a solution to the riddle soon, so he abandoned worrying for later. The mists had retreated completely now, not coming back or at least, not for human eyes. They were still there however, guiding them, leading the Nomad on an unseen path so subtly that even their captain did not notice their sails were straying from the path it was set. The mists were gone, but there was a presense watching them unseen. The shape of a woman, sitting near the tiller whenever Sinbad was guarding the ship, watching him with a smile that bordered on cruelty. He never saw her, noone did, but she was there. Waiting. Watching the Nomad sail where she wanted her to sail.