Chapter 3 THE LOCKER AUGUST 1675
The next morning, Britannia took Flying Dutchman outside.
"The cycle of the sun works opposite here than it does back home. Sunrise in your world is sunset in this one." She explained.
Flying Dutchman nodded. "How do I go back and forth between them?" She asked. "If I'm gonna ferry souls I have to have a way to reach them.
Britannia nodded. "There are methods." She said. "None of them particularly pleasing but likely your powers will compensate for that."
Flying Dutchman nodded and rested low on the water, her side aching again.
Britannia nudged her gently. "Hey, you alright?" She asked.
Flying Dutchman nodded. "Just, it hurts is all." She replied.
"Well if you feel like you need to rest just let me know. I can't have you capsizing on me." Britannia said.
"Will do." Flying Dutchman grunted.
Britannia led the way farther out and as she did Flying Dutchman began to notice strange formations in the water.
They shimmered and glistened, sparkling like rainbows on the surface and just under it.
They had no substance, no solidity and moved with the water as though they were part of the ocean itself.
"What are they?" Flying Dutchman asked.
"Spirits." Britannia replied, her voice tight. "Souls beyond the care or help of you and me. They must find their own way to the next life and most never make it."
Flying Dutchman looked at her mentor and saw the fearful, haunted look in Britannia's eyes. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that the older ship was scared.
Britannia bit her lip, her eyes scanning the water in front of her warily.
Several times, spirits made close passes to her, taking advantage of the wake she produced, almost like dolphins.
They got closer and closer on each pass and eventually, one actually touched her.
The point of contact was on her port side, just forward of the shoulder.
A shudder wracked the sailing ship from bow to stern and her eyes slipped closed.
A quiet groan escaped her.
It was Flying Dutchman's turn to be concerned.
"Are you alright Britannia?" She asked.
Britannia seemed distracted, she kept staring at the souls traveling beside her, her blue eyes darker than ever.
"Britannia, hey!" Flying Dutchman growled.
She dropped back and nudged her mentor firmly in the side.
Britannia started and blinked before looking over at her apprentice.
"Are you alright?" Flying Dutchman repeated. "Should we head back?"
"I'm alright Dutchman." She said. "But I think it's best if we do head back."
Flying Dutchman nodded and nudged Britannia gently around in a 180, taking the lead on the return journey.
The pair reached home around sunset or sunrise if you were still alive technically.
Flying Dutchman helped Britannia into her berth, docking beside her.
Sweat poured down the older ship's hull and her eyes were still dark and haunted looking.
Flying Dutchman nuzzled her prow.
Britannia looked at her. "I'm alright." She managed.
"You sure?" The younger ship asked skeptically.
"I'm sure. Just, certain spirits bring back certain memories." Britannia replied.
She turned away from her. "Now I'd like to rest if you don't mind." She said.
Flying Dutchman took the hint and nodded. "Alright, sleep well." She whispered and sailed off to her own berth nearby.
Leaning against the dock, the young ship closed her eyes and fell happily to sleep.
A scream woke her in the middle of the night.
Flying Dutchman was on alert at once. She snapped her mooring lines and raced over to Britannia.
Britannia was leaning against the dock, shivering. Her eyes were wide and she was struggling to get her breath back.
Flying Dutchman licked her nose. "Hey, I'm here." She whispered. "It's alright."
Britannia calmed down somewhat and leaned into her apprentice.
A quiet sound reached Flying Dutchman's ears and that's when she realized that Britannia was crying. She was actually crying!
She rocked back and forth gently. "Shh, shh it's alright." She whispered.
Eventually, Britannia calmed down somewhat and looked up at her apprentice.
"I suppose you're wondering why I woke you." She said.
"I was thinking about it, yes." Flying Dutchman replied.
Britannia sighed. "It was 1666, also known as the Year of the Beast. The Dutch and the English were at war and it was in full swing." She sighed and closed her eyes.
"I was in charge of a unit of ships. Unusual as I don't usually make my presence known to the general British public but the empire needed ever y ship they could get." She said.
"Our task was to capture the port of Cape Town for passage to the Far East. Intelligence reports indicated that my force outnumbered the Dutch 8 to 1."
Flying Dutchman held her breath, she knew what Britannia would say next. She knew of this battle, the biggest defeat for the English.
"Apparently the Dutch had their own inside agent and sent more warships to defend the port. We found ourselves in an even battle but the Dutch, they-they had the better ships. Those that survived the battle, a majority of them were later sunk in a storm on the trip home. By the time we reached England, only an 8th of our original force remained."
Flying Dutchman was speechless. "Oh, Britannia…" She moaned. She couldn't imagine the pain the older ship was feeling. To lose an entire divisions of warships, that had to be haunting.
Britannia leaned into her apprentice. "It was my fault." She moaned. "I should've expected such a move, I should've pulled back."
"Shh, shh it's alright." Flying Dutchman whispered, hoping to somehow comfort the older ship.
"I let them die!" Britannia wailed. "I should've died with them!"
"Don't think that." Flying Dutchman whispered.
"What kind of leader am I, to let my troops die." Britannia moaned.
"Shh, shh…" Flying Dutchman said. "It's okay, Britannia. It's okay."
"They weren't ready, I knew they weren't ready!" Britannia cried. She struggled to hold back the onslaught of tears.
"Just let it out, Britannia just let it out." Flying Dutchman whispered, rubbing her side soothingly with her prow.
Britannia let out a loud wail and buried her bow in her apprentice's side.
"That's it, just let it go." Flying Dutchman said gently.
She cradled Britannia gently against her side, rocking back and forth in a soothing manner.
Britannia's tears were soaking her hull but she didn't care. She wanted to try and ease her mentor's pain in any way she could.
Silence fell on Flying Dutchman's ears and she looked at Britannia to see the older ship had fallen back asleep though she occasionally whimpered.
"Poor thing." She thought sadly. "She wore herself out crying like that."
Flying Dutchman shifted slightly to accommodate Britannia's weight.
She didn't try to go to sleep herself, rather she focused on the horizon and the many stars above it.
Flying Dutchman wasn't sure if the Ancients could hear her in this realm but she prayed to them anyway.
She hoped that somehow, the power of her ancestors could soothe Britannia's eternal pain.