Fog covers (smothers) the bay in a thick, heavy (crushing) blanket, muffling sounds and blinding eyes with moist gray sameness. Perfect for hiding – the ship wasn't even visible from shore.
"Holy One." The words are spoken in a soft (reverent) whisper, so as not to carry over the water (too fearful to speak with normal voices). The man spoken to turns, his eyes brimming with sacred knowledge (madness). Aside from the speaker he is the only one on the main deck.
"What is it, child?" He speaks (snaps) gently (harshly), though eager for the other to speak (impatient). "What must you tell me?" (Tell me!)
"T-the girl, Holy One." The first man gazes up at the second in adoration (terror). The ship creaks and sways underfoot, and the second man sighs with resigned weariness (anger).
"Which girl, child?" Gently probing for answers (demanding), "I'll not hurt you, you know." (Not yet.) "You can tell me." (You'd best tell me.)
"The older one, Holy One." First now looks at the gently rolling deck, near-bowing (prostrating) before Second.
"Ah." Spoken slowly, savoring (devouring) the word. "The most dangerous." He looks down at First, and smiles kindly (cruelly). "You have done very well indeed, child." (Fulfilled your purpose.) "Is she here?" (Bring her to me!)
"Yes, Holy One. They bring her now." First backs away slowly (fearfully) but Second's attention is no longer upon him; he can hear the steady slip-splash of oars in water and his eyes are afire with anticipation (hunger).
Soon enough, the thump-bump of a rowboat hitting the edge comes, and a short while later two more men haul up a limply struggling figure. They drag it (her?) to Second and drop it (her) unceremoniously in front of him, showing the same respect (worship) that First did.
"Holy One."
The figure struggles to stand, fails, and compromises at kneeling as Second stalked forward. A hand flashes out, latches onto shoulder-length brown hair, and wrenches the figure's head back, dispelling any doubts he might have had that the men he sent out had bungled the job and picked up an exceptionally pretty young boy. Beautiful, was his first thought, but that faded and fell apart under scrutiny. What this woman has is not beauty, but something that could be mistaken for it if you saw her from a distance, or just for an instant - her nose is too small, her mouth too large and too crooked, her brows too full … in fact, the closer he looks, the less beautiful she becomes.
He smiles happily (maliciously) into steel-gray eyes that are just barely beginning to gain back some measure of clarity.
"There is no need to wait, my children." (We have already waited too long by far!) "Take her below, so that I may remove the threat this one embodies." (She won't be a danger for very longer, oh no.)
"As you wish it, Holy One."
The two men scramble up, grabbing roughly onto the woman's arms as they do so. By now she is aware enough that she was struggling slightly against her captors, but she is still weak, and her resistance feeble to say the least. They drag her belowdecks with little difficulty, doing nothing to disturb the eerie silence that had descended with the fog. Second stays above for a bit longer, fingering something in his pocket and looking around as if his human eyes could ever hope to pierce the dense fog, but, with a terrible, hacking chuckle, he walks to the open hatch that leads to the woman. Just before he disappeares below, though, he takes an irregular, cloudy crystal shard about the size of a large hen's egg out of his pocket, a crystal which looked to have been chipped out from a much larger one. He tosses the shard up, catches it, and gives one last, hideous chuckle before descending below, pulling the hatch shut as he goes.
For a while, there is nothing to disturb the quiet except the gentle lapping of waves breaking against the ship's hull. For awhile, the air is thick with stillness and choking on silence. But only for awhile, and then the air is torn asunder with screams. They are such screams as have not been heard in centuries, and will not be heard for centuries to come, screams that freeze the blood and stop the heart mid-beat. The screams go on, growing more terrible with every passing moment until, quite abruptly, they cut short. If one was very, very close to the one who made the screams, one would be able to hear a faint, muffled sobbing. But, no one is, and that shame, at last, goes undocumented.
Second holds up a crystal that is only recognizable as the one from before by size and shape. This crystal shard is not a cloudy white, but it glows a sullen red, shot through with scars of black, and this crystal radiates an aura of wrongness that can be felt for yards around. He smiles, turning his back on the quivering figure now left slumped in the middle of the empty room and heading back above. The crystal shard is his sole focus, his enchanted gaze fixed on it and it alone; he does not see the ship around him, the ocean below him, or the sky above him. He climbs the ladder to the silence above without ever noticing it's existence, and the hatchway might as well be mist for all the attention he pays to it.
Once above, however, his loving contemplation is interrupted by another, far different scream. No human lungs produced this avian shriek, and this was not a cry of inconceivable pain, but of boundless anger and murderous rage. He looks up, frowning, but sees nothing through the moist blanket of fog, and curses his mortal eyes as he does so. Then, his attention is once more focused on the crystal, and the cry and unknown bird that produced it dismissed.
Soon enough, he will go back it, out of the fog and silence. Soon enough, the crew will come creeping back from their fearful absence and make ready the ship to sail again. Soon enough, he will dispose of the hunk of meat in that special, empty room belowdecks. Soon enough, there will be three more crystal shards so filled, and the threat to his beloved, greater Crystal will be eradicated. Soon enough, his plans will come to fruitation.
Soon enough …
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Um, yeah. That was … just a little late. Just a little. Erp! Sorrysorrysorrysorry! I ran into the end-of-summer-rush, and then school just started two days ago, and … well I could make up some more excuses, but I won't. Laziness is a part .. but … um, yeah. I'm losing a little bit of motivation for this story – which doe notnotnotNOT mean that I won't finish it, but that the updates will be fewer and farther in between, 'k? I will do my absolute best to get in a chapter a month, but more (I am extremely sorry to say) I can't promise.
So just ... bear with me, please, okay? Please?
Now, for the two new reviewers, Keyblade Mistress1 and wicked-angel3, much thanks and virtual cookies … whatever you want really. To the person who just keeps coming back for more, LordLanceahlot, I give you manymanymany hugs from me, and whatever you want that I can give you. As for your advice, I'm not going to have Jack start speaking perfect English alluva sudden, but I will try to tone him down a bit, 'k? Thanks for the suggestion. :)
And, last but not least, to all of you people out there who are reading this, and haven't given up on me yet, THANK YOU!!!!! I love you all, I really, really do. I cannot appreciate how grateful I am to you for humoring me with this, so … just … thank you. Thank you muchly.
Ta!
