Chapter 4

"Aoibheal, you know I don't condone of your 'profession.' Stop asking the crew if they want tattoos. I won't allow that in my presence anymore!" Ledaal Kayla said.

"But I am bored. There is nothing to do. When was the last time we were at port? It's been over a year since we were in Chiaroscuro. I could have just stayed there…"

"I know. But there was nothing left for you there. You should be glad I found you when I did. If you had been taken to the council for stealing that bread they may have cut off your hands. You were lucky it was me that saw you do that. You know that vendor caught you? I paid him for the bread so you wouldn't get into trouble."

"I know, I know! You have told me a thousand times now. And I am grateful. I do like being out to sea. It's funny to watch some of the crewmen puke overboard. You would think since they have been out here as long as they have they would be used to it by now."

"Aoibheal, it isn't funny to watch someone else's misfortune. When are you going to start listening to the things I am trying to teach you?"

"I listen… I swear," she replied guiltily.

"It shouldn't be long before we reach port. I will take you to a nice place, get you filled up with some good food, and take you to get some better clothes. You show too much skin. You need a nice dress."

"Ugh…dresses."

"Well if you didn't keep cutting your pants to the knees and ripping your shirts to show your belly, we wouldn't be having this discussion!"

Blah blah blah, Aoibheal thought to herself. She did love Kayla. Although she was a stern emissary of Ledaal, she was more of a parent to her than her own. Her mother died giving birth to her. Her father never showed her any love or affection. It always seemed like he blamed her for the death of his wife. His beloved.

Aoibheal was almost a natural artist. Even though it was something that was forced upon her once her father figured out he could get money for her work, she still enjoyed it. Even when he beat her nearly half to death because a sketch or a painting wasn't "good enough."

She remembered as if it was yesterday when her father locked her in her room because she painted a picture that had an unseen image. At a glance, the painting showed angelic creatures, blissful and happy. Upon deeper inspection, if the image was tilted it was actually a gruesome image of demons. His outrage led to keeping her in a room and barricading the door so she couldn't get out. After 3 days of no food and no water, she began to pound on the door for him to let her out. She had no windows to try and climb out of. For two more days, she beat on the door, inching it open little by little. After five days, weak from near starvation and dehydration, she emerged from her prison. There was no sign of her father being home. When she checked the storage cabinet she saw that most of the food was starting to spoil. Three more days passed with no return of her father. Finally, she had to leave as there was no longer any food.

She had no success in selling her paintings as no one wanted to buy anything from a 13 year old girl. She ate scraps that were thrown away because there was nothing else. Soon she had resorted to stealing. Kayla ended up following Aoibheal to her hideout that day.

After she found out how old Aoibheal was, she offered to let her stay with her until she was old enough to make it on her own.

Three years passed, and although Kayla constantly lectured Aoibheal about her chosen and painful profession of tattooing, she still showed her kindness as no one else had. The lectures had been worse in the past year out to sea. Aoibheal was lectured almost daily about "The body is a temple," and "We need to find you a new way to express yourself." She loved her, but god she was getting on her nerves.

As promised, Kayla took Aoibheal to eat and to get new clothes at port. They didn't stay long and before she knew it, they were back on the boat, ready to set sail.

What they all failed to notice was a squirrel frantically running towards the ship as it was leaving the dock, and jumping inside the ship through an open porthole.