A/N: Here is the second installment for this story. Hope you enjoy it!
The sun had just begun to rise when Sinbad stepped on deck. For the first time in a week, pinkish rays colored the horizon and the sky had cleared, not a cloud in sight. The deck had dried over the night, yet the smell of the thunderstorm still lingered in the air. Sinbad took a deep breath and sighed in contentment.
Making his way to the front end of the ship, Sinbad looked out at the sea. Gentle waves were lazily crashing against the hull as the Nomad slowly sailed through the calm waters. Up ahead, a dot in the horizon informed him they were reaching their destination. His heart began racing mildly at the thought.
He had heard about the country from other sailors in different parts. Most of them had qualified it as paradise on Earth. Wonderful descriptions of the land and multiple villages had reached his ears. Since then, Sinbad had known where he would want to settle down. And now, here they were.
"Are you sure you want to quit sailing?" a voice asked behind him.
Sinbad turned to find a young man staring back at him. Not much taller than he was, he had golden brown hair that now fell to his shoulders. His chestnut eyes shared common genetics with a person Sinbad wished he could be able to forget.
Six years earlier, as the crew lay lazily across a beach, a long screech had interrupted their sunbathing. Dermott had flown from Bryn's glove to land in the sand, a few feet away. Before their eyes, the brown hawk had quickly morphed into a man.
"I'm human!" was all Dermott had said before he had collapsed on the sand.
Momentarily stunned, it had taken them a few seconds to realize what had happened. Sinbad and Bryn had run to the unconscious man. His features were scrawny and looked rather unhealthy, but Bryn sensed no black magic in his system. Whatever had happened, Dermott would be fine.
They had built a fire on the beach and ate as they waited for Dermott to come to.
Hours later, Dermott finally opened his eyes. Helped by Sinbad, he had sat down, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He had then explained what had happened on their parents' farm, fifteen years earlier, when Rumina had turned him into a hawk. Maeve, then 12 years old, had decided to dedicate her life to magic in order to change him back. Since the only way to revert a spell was to destroy the sorcerer who had casted it, Dermott deduced that Maeve had succeeded in her quest.
Later that night, Sinbad had awoken with a start. A man stood a few feet away from him, facing the water. Frowning, he had grabbed his sword and slowly made his way towards the man.
"There is no need for your sword, Sinbad."
Dim-Dim had turned around. Shocked, Sinbad had stopped in his tracks. The old man had then walked towards him.
"Really, Sinbad," Dim-Dim added, seeing that his former pupil still had his sword drawn. "Your sword won't do my body any damage."
To prove it, Dim-Dim had reached for the sword. Surprisingly, his hand cut right through it.
"You're dead," Sinbad had gasped.
Dim-Dim had nodded, slowly.
"Maeve not only succeeded in killing Rumina, but she got Turoc too. In a last attempt to do me some wrong, he killed me."
"What about Maeve?" Sinbad had asked, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
"She's fine, my young boy. Probably better than she has been in a very long time. You should search for her."
"Do you know where I can find her?"
"Alas, in death, my magical powers are useless. Time is running out, Sinbad. I must go back."
"NO!" Sinbad had cried, reaching for his master.
His fingers had grasped thin air.
"I'm not quitting for ever, Dermott," Sinbad replied, walking away from the front of the ship. "I'm just taking a little vacation."
"How long are you planning to stay in Manxa?" Dermott asked, following his captain, and trying to keep the despair he felt from reaching his voice.
Sinbad shrugged.
"I haven't thought it through, yet."
"What about Maeve?" Dermott added, desperately. "Don't you want to find her?"
A shadow passed over Sinbad's features. His desire to find his sorceress hadn't melted away with the years; in fact, it had gotten stronger and urgent with time. His eyes had searched every face in the crowd; his feet had walked thousands of miles in search of villages where Maeve could have been hiding. Despite all of that, Maeve was still nowhere to be found. He needed some time to clear his mind; he needed to heal his heart from the extreme disappointment it had felt whenever they'd returned to the ship, Maeve-less.
"You know I do," Sinbad replied, seriously. "Let's face, Derm; we have looked everywhere for her. It's been twelve years. I need to stop looking for her. We all need to take a break and relax. You do, too. Don't you want to know how it feels to live on land for a while?"
Dermott sighed. He knew his captain was right. They couldn't keep searching forever, going back and forth between islands and lands they had already searched. If Maeve didn't want to be found, Dermott was sure his sister knew how to make her presence unknown.
The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs leading to the deck reached their ears. Doubar was slowly making his way up, followed by a newly pregnant Bryn.
"Morning!" the big man boomed as he reached the deck.
"Good morning, Doubar," Sinbad replied, chuckling.
"What a nice day!" his older brother replied as he looked up at the sky. "How long before we reach Manxa?"
"We should be there by mid-day."
Doubar nodded, before making his way to the tiller. The man who had been holding it nodded in thanks, before walking off towards his cabin.
"What a beautiful landscape!" Firouz said, amazed by the beauty of the beach ahead.
"I have a weird feeling about this place," Bryn replied, her eyes squinting towards something only she seemed able to see.
"What's wrong now?" Sinbad replied, barely trying to camouflage his annoyance.
Bryn always seemed to find something wrong with every place they had stopped in. To be honest, she had been right many times. But, more often than not, her apprehensions had been unfounded.
"Nothing is wrong with it. It does seem like the perfect place. There is just something I can't quit put my finger on."
"Maybe it's magic," Firouz replied.
Bryn shrugged, unconvinced.
"Longboats are launched!" Kamir yelled from the other end of the ship.
Sinbad looked up at his newest recruit.
Kamir had joined the crew nearly two years earlier. When they had first met him, the young man had been on his death bed. A mysterious illness had swept through the village, but only Kamir had seemed to have reacted badly to the virus. Firouz and Bryn had stayed behind for a few weeks, until Kamir had been strong enough to sail with them. A bond had soon formed between the three of them. Kamir developed a sudden interest for science, while Bryn had discovered a tenderer, less logical side of Firouz she hadn't known had been there. The couple was happily expecting their first child.
The crew slowly made their way down to the longboats and rowed to the shore. As they set foot on the warm sand, their eyes examined the new surroundings.
Tall and thick trees separated the small beach from the rest of the country. Bird chirped happily, hopping from one branch to the next. Little animals scurried through the tall grass, which blew slightly in the timid wind.
A small opening had been made through the trees. The crew gathered their belongings and set down the winding path. Pebbles crunched under their feet as the tall trees soon engulfed them.
"Where are we heading exactly?" Doubar asked.
Sinbad smiled.
"Wherever that path takes us."
