Secret Weapon
Prologue
The moon was high in the sky. The salty scent of the ocean was carried by the gusts of wind blowing through the ship. It was a quiet night, with a few crew members still at work cleaning the ship. No one made a sound. Not even the rats in the hull squeaked. Everything was silent and tense. The waves on the ocean were more silent than usual. Not a single one dared to get too tall so as to disturb the boat more than it already has been.
The crew members drank, but not out of celebration. Some drank to dull the pain of their still healing wounds. Most, however, drank to forget the emotional pain, like from their dear friends dying in their arms. Some of the beds protested with a groan as bodies rolled around in a dreamless sleep, lucky that they were not of the crew members in a sleep that they would never wake up from.
The silence was a stark contrast to the screams and cries of those left behind on land, who must face their deceased loved ones so quickly. Wives lost husbands, children lost fathers, and siblings lost brothers. The piercing screech dulled the church bells ringing as families began to hold funerals so soon.
The war's toll was costly to everyone on the ship. The ship was horribly understaffed, the deck could not be scrubbed while the sails were raised, the cook lost his right hand man, one crew member lost a son, there were not enough people to play cards with, and the blonde captain, who paced around his quarters, lost a brother. Although, he did not lose his brother like the others lost their friends. His brother lost the privilege of calling him "brother" due to his actions. He has been demoted to "prisoner" for starting something he could never think of possibly finishing. He was a young and stupid child, thinking that a bunch of farmers could possibly take on an entire empire and win. It was foolish and selfish. The battles cost people their lives, families have broken, people are hurt physically and mentally. The clop of the captain's shoes on the wood floor echoed to the hall as he thought about a suitable punishment for the boy once they reached the mainland. It was not long before the restless captain would sit down to make arrangements.
Across the ship, another young blonde man lays, only accessible if one has the key to the door. The same key that hangs on the captain's neck. The walls were deteriorating and it smelled worse than a million dead rats. Little did he know that he was not received well by the crew nor the captain at the moment. People who were once willing to risk their lives to protect him now hated him the most, but he does not understand why. His head is bandaged up and he has fresh wounds on his arms and legs, lucky that he will not remember the beating he took in the midst of the final battle that cost him the war. A weak and hurt prisoner aboard this ship headed back to where he belongs, but not where he wants to be or where he deserves to be. It was all his punishment for everything he had done. The blonde boy tried to leave the captain. The captain didn't like that.