Seven Seas Treasure
~.~.~
Having travelled the globe; taken the tide as it came and drifting out into the deepest, furthermost uncharted regions (well, once uncharted at least, and when the rich, aristocratic folk had sent out their adventurers to investigate these foreign realms it had been farewell to some of the most famed pirate settlements in the small islands to the south, leaving gentlemen like Kazuomi himself to only skirt briefly around those lands during the winter months when the new settlers had abandoned the choppy seas for warm and toasty fires at home on familiar ground) there was little in this world that Captain Ichinomiya had not braved during his time. The last of the wild natives in the tropics; the snarling of the most vicious predators in the frozen lands up north; the chill and the wind and rain in the howling gales of hurricanes - as merciless and stealthy as some primeval beast that sought to swallow up all in its path... But for all the grand adventures and courageous voyages he had taken in this last decade or so on this earth, it had to be said that there were some mistakes he had wished many a time to just take back and bury under the floorboards - to stuff under the rug and never allow to see the light of day again.
The most meagre of these faults, he had to say, would most definitely be that obnoxious creature that perched upon the end of his bedpost, cawing and twittering and scattering those pesky little feathers all over the fine woven sheets. If there was one thing that Captain Kazuomi Ichinomiya positively hated it was those damned feathers. Not to mention the parrot itself.
"Clear off!" He barked deafeningly and watched as the thing launched itself off the bed - wings flapping madly and sending more of those bloody green things soaring throughout the cabin - and settled instead on the spare chair across the desk.
'Curse this bird,' Kazuomi thought, casting the parrot a filthy look; 'Thick as a bloody brush and yet still I keep the dozy thing.'
He marched over to it, grumbling to himself. He caught sight of the scroll on its scrawny leg and reminded himself (before he started priming his pistol) that the thing was, unfortunately, still of use. It would be too big a waste to shoot it now. He settled himself with the thought that once it got too old for service he would cook it. He'd never had parrot before - never heard of anywhere that actually served it, to be honest. Perhaps it was a delicacy on some islands with a more primitive population, but, until he could find enough reason to end the poor creature's life, he was sure he could find it. It was then as he began to consider which the taste would be closer to (chicken or pheasant or perhaps turkey?) that the bird squawked - a harsh and shrill sort of sound - as if for attention and the Captain finally rid the thing of its burden, roughly snatching the little piece of parchment. It cocked out its leg as if to offer it to its master and Kazuomi almost looked impressed. It was always such a dumb bird, after all.
But whatever was noted down here was of more concern than the intelligence of one little dimwitted bird. He cast his eyes over the first sentence of this newest message and his mouth twisted into a wry, sardonic grin.
"So," he said, his tone calm and yet somehow still chilling to the very core; "the Royal Navy have started their search, hm?" In the background, Daichi the parrot let out what might have been an alarmed cry, but the pirate Captain didn't seem to hear it. He chuckled wickedly to himself, tossing the scrap of a note onto the desk.
It should have been a grave warning. It should have been enough to strike fear into his blackened heart, for he knew now that he and every other corsair that sailed these seas would be hunted down to the ends of the earth in the King's futile race to find his daughter… But Kazuomi took it as a challenge. They were the Shining Black! They were swift and steadfast and they had the luck of the wind in their sails. They were but murky apparitions in the sea fog; they were cunning and their cutlasses sharp; out of reach of the hand of the law…
No, those little sailor boys would never so much as catch a sniff of them. And if they did… Well, Kazuomi supposed he'd better be ready to prime that pistol after all.
They had the Princess - sure to starve away in her cabin within the week and give up all her secrets and place that little golden Lock right into the palm of his hand just as planned. He glanced out the window, watching the sea spray rise and fall and spurt out in great tower-like formations from under the stern like steam escaping from a chimney. Focusing on the far-off horizon, unbroken by rocks or islands or great continents, he wondered when that first sail would pop up in the distance. The Royal Navy was finally searching for their lost Princess. He wondered if he'd be seeing them soon.
But, more pressingly, he wondered if he would be able to break her long before the navy even caught a glimpse of him.
"She's lying."
Captain Ichinomiya's voice just about echoed off the cabin walls that night; the words as heavy as the gale that had started to batter the Shining Black. Yet, though the ship rocked and creaked and groaned in pain under the relentless strain of the elements, Kazuomi sat back calmly; quietly; paying no heed to the whistling of the cold night wind that rattled the windows and ran across the boards in the draught. He lowered his face and the light of the flickering candles dotted about the room was reflected in that gleam of fury streaked across his eyes.
"She's lying." He repeated firmly. "It's in her family; it's in her generation; I've seen that Lock with my own damn eyes!" He almost let the rage overwhelm his senses then. He almost let the dark consume what little of his soul had not already been blackened by fury or greed or malevolence. But the Captain caught himself within a second and breathed deeply; as loud as the storm outside. "She has to be lying, the haughty little brat." He huffed out the last of his ire and leaned back comfortably. "Never mind. It's just a matter of time until she tells all…"
He laughed bitterly.
"And when she does…"
He let it hang in the air for a moment before looking up at his son.
"Ikuto, cut the Princess' rations in half." Kazuomi gave the order so casually that Ikuto found it hard to conceal his shock - so great and cold was his blatant and blunt neglect. "Make her lack what she needs; make her more miserable; more deprived. Make her desperate enough for a simple slice of bread that, given the chance, she'd come crawling back to me with that Lock in her hand in a second…"
Ikuto was glad that the Captain didn't notice the tension in his body as he was excused, leaving the Captain to sit in his cabin alone and in peace; brooding; plotting.
'She knows where the Humpty Lock is… She does…'
~.~.~
The burning was unbearable. It pierced through the skin of her neck, trickling down her back like newly-glowing sparks; it flushed her cheeks and made the sweat gather along her hairline. Amu huffed and blew a flyaway strand of pink hair out of her eyes. The breeze was light, but the air was cool and yet still she felt as though she had been subjected to the heat of a fire. Hesitantly, warily, Amu glanced over her shoulder.
Captain Ichinomiya stood high up beside the helm like a gargoyle, dark and stony. He was staring at her. Amu felt herself shudder and turned back, trying again to ignore that intense heat as he watched her work. She thought she might've been lucky today. She thought he might have made himself scarce, for it seemed to be a general rule that if the Captain hadn't made his presence known by about midday, then it was unlikely he'd emerge at all. But no. Not today. Still he stood sentinel over his ship and Amu wasn't sure how much more of it she could take. She was fumbling; she was struggling to concentrate. She was trying so hard to properly stitch these sails that had been dragged up from the hold, but the needle was slipping from her grasp; her hands were shaking.
This was the first occasion that the Captain had actually stepped out onto the deck to observe his crew since their little meeting in his cabin. It was two days ago, now. Two days without so much as a glimpse of the rugged Captain had left Amu in high spirits. That first night she had tossed and turned fretfully in her cabin bed, tormented by the fact that she had no idea why the man wanted her Lock - or her 'Humpty Lock', as it appeared it was called - and praying that she had made the right decision. But two days had been enough to settle her nerves somewhat. If he was going to press the matter on her further he would have done so already, she reasoned, but, then again, that didn't explain why she was still on the ship at all. Amu didn't expect him to let her go immediately, nor did she believe that he would give up on the subject of the Humpty Lock quite so easily, but she couldn't help but wonder why he would leave her alone like this - especially when she had seen that look of a madman in his eyes that just screamed out his desperation and desire for that little golden trinket he was so keen to get his hands on.
All around her the planks were thudding; stomped upon and abused by countless boots and bare feet as the crew ran across the deck, adjusting the sails or priming weapons or going over to perch comfortably on the ratlines if there was no task for them at hand. She peeked up at the intricate weave of ropes and sail above her. At least seven members of the Shining Black were leisurely hanging, suspended in mid-air, laughing and jeering - three were even passing round a mug of something to share around, howling with laughter when one nearly dropped it and sent at least half of the rum cascading down onto the deck below. One unfortunate pirate skidded along across puddle of booze and cast a murderous look upwards. They hooted and howled and cracked witty jokes and Amu couldn't help but smile. The clumsy pirate shook off his deathly look and chuckled to himself, shaking his head as if to say "honestly!" and casually strolling off to find something to clean up the mess. Captain Ichinomiya behind her might have been a brute to say the least, but the same could not be said for this lot.
Amu straightened up once she had finished her work and pretended to turn to observe the water in the direction of the setting sun, casting her eye in the direction of the poop deck as she turned around. The Captain was gone. It was a massive relief. And it was even more of a relief when she saw Ikuto clambering down the companionway towards her. He was jingling his set of keys in his hand, letting them glint in the rays of the falling sun - a gesture he had adopted to tell her it was time for her to get back to her cabin for the night. It was reassuring, for even when the Captain was not on deck, Amu was sure that there were still some members of the crew who watched her curiously. Even at that moment, there was a short, stocky pirate leaning up against the gangway eyeing her over a mug of liquor. She glared at the scoundrel as if to say that, yes, she knew he was watching her and she was getting bloody tired of it.
"Hey," Ikuto was approaching now, letting his voice carry over on the breath of the wind. "Are you coming," he began once she didn't move; "or are you spending the night with the crew instead?"
Amu snapped her head back in the right direction and hurriedly made her way towards her cabin. Ikuto was smirking behind her as she scurried inside and revelled in the cool shade of the room.
"In a hurry?" he hummed.
"Long day." was all she said. "As usual."
Ikuto looked as though he understood. "Your banquet awaits," he said somewhat drily and he pointed to the table where there already lay a small tray containing her usual misshapen goblet of wine and beside it two ship's biscuits. She tried not to grimace at the sight of them; those unsavoury, stiff little jaw-breakers that made her teeth ache every time she tried to take a bite. Amu briefly pondered over whether rations were getting shorter or even just of poorer quality. She'd found herself going to bed hungry last night and the one before. That morning there had been no meal at all.
"Thank you." Amu said softly, expertly hiding her disgust for those little hardtack biscuits that laid there on the tray in front of her. She'd have to try dipping them in wine and hope they softened enough for them to be edible.
Ikuto idly looped the keys round his finger, making them jingle and jangle in the otherwise soundless corridor. "No problem." he said. There was something of a sigh in his tone. He glanced at the meagre meal on the table and then shook his head. "If you'll excuse me," he paused to lean over and take the doorknob in his hand; "I must see the Captain before he retires. I'll see you in the morning."
"Wait,"
He paused. There was a moment of near-awkward silence. Amu twisted the lace at the bottom of her bodice as she struggled to gather her thoughts into a proper sentence.
"About the Captain…" Amu began uncertainly, slowly winding her fingers together - a habit she had for the most part managed to shake off, but under the intense stare of those two cobalt eyes she found it returning before she could stop it. She tore them apart and one hand came to rest at her neck. The space above her heart was still heavy - still bare and vulnerable for as long as she was parted from that pendant the Captain so dearly desired.
"Do you- Do you know why he wants my Lock?"
There was no reply. Ikuto just stared tension in the room was palpable, but now that she had asked once, Amu found that she couldn't just let this opportunity pass. After all, how often would she find the right moment to bring this up to him?
"Why is it secret?" Amu asked. "I… I don't understand the significance…"
The seconds ticked by. Ikuto didn't respond. She narrowed her eyes at him. That constant blank staring was starting to hit a nerve.
"Are you going to answer me?" she snapped. "Ikuto!"
And when he finally spoke up again, it was maddening;
"Captain's business."
Amu saw red. "Oh," she huffed, folding her arms and glaring at him. "Oh, am I sick and tired of 'Captain's business'!" Who did he think he was? What made it not her business? What allowed him to determine that without her consideration? Ikuto knew and yet he still belittled her! "Of course it's my business!" she cried, outraged. "I've been patient and I've been compliant! I've laboured on this ship and taken care of all your dirty work for days on end now! And I've even kept quiet because, even though I know that it is indeed my business, Ikuto, I've been so terribly scared of the Captain that I haven't worked up the courage!" A pause to take a breath and Ikuto averted his eyes. "But I've haven't settled!" She stated firmly. "I've been up all night and I've been thinking over and over and over again about 'Captain's business' and I just can't settle until I know why! Until I know what's going on! You realise that I've been taken away from my home, don't you? My life. Everything I know and love is a world away and meanwhile I'm stuck here on this bloody boat and your 'Captain' can't even give me a half-decent reason as to why? What the hell are you pirates playing at? What pirate acts this tactically? Aren't you just a boat-load of floating dogs?"
And across the room, Ikuto let out a breath and shook his head, stepping back to wordlessly close the door on her and lock her out from that whole other world of knowledge that she was not entitled to and it cut through something inside of her. Why was she left in the dark? Why she? He could have come clean; he could have given her a hint at least, but he didn't. Ikuto had decided to shut her out completely and, once the anger had subsided, that hurt. It hurt beyond belief.
"Please," Amu whispered.
Her reply was the cold clicking sound of the lock outside. Amu was left to the quiet of her cabin - that suffocating silence where nobody could hear her cry out. Anger surged through her veins. She snapped. Amu lunged for the tray of food upon the table and sent it flying towards the cabin door; spilled wine staining her skirt, biscuits barely crumbling as they hit the floor, screeching;
"God damn it!"
Amu threw herself down into a chair and sniffed, hot tears starting to fall against her cheeks. She felt like a small child in the middle of a tantrum, but she didn't care. What did it matter?
"God damn you, Ikuto!" she hiccuped into her hands. "God damn Ichinomiya- God damn this bloody ship..!"
'Why the hell did I have to end up on this bloody boat?'
Crying over her frustration; crying over her desperation; crying over her own small, pathetic, helpless little self... Amu couldn't even find the strength to lift herself up and into bed that night. She sobbed until her voice was hoarse, slumped across the rickety table and finally began to drift off into that wonderful, painless, carefree world of sleep.
But she couldn't help but notice the shifting of light beneath the doorway; the scuffle of boots; the gentle breath of a masculine sigh…
Not that she would remember the following morning.
~.~.~
The stifling heat of the afternoon sun lay thick and heavy upon the docks - the stone scorched; the heathaze palpable - though still the men were put to work. Moving faster; pushed harder than ever before, they laboured continually under the sinking sun all in the hopes of finishing the task at hand as quickly as they could, for all each man really wanted was a seat in the cool shade and a serving of ale and a chance to rest their aching bones after a day of exertion.
The townspeople were gathering now curiously; watching with intrigue and amazement. It was not often that their town saw such excitement, nor even so many men of high stature in one place. Overshadowing the sloops and little fishing boats there stood tall and proud five ships - all flying the King's colours; all of polished oak and sails as crisp and pure as clouds. All fine, fearsome, yet awe-inspiring men-of-war lay in wait upon the calm waters as their crews got to work. Barrels were wheeled and heaved aboard; arms counted and checked off long, official-looking lists; sails were hoisted and trimmed or else hang limply from the yards - an unwelcome reminder of the lack of breeze on this hot day which would have been greatly welcomed by each and every worker.
Even His Majesty, as he stepped out from the pleasant temperature of the coach, had to pause to pat the perspiration from his forehead with a little silk handkerchief. He glanced around (barely noticing the men and women who dropped to their knees at his feet in respect, honoured) and he sighed - a light, relieved sigh that seemed to free from his chest long days and nights' worth of tension and anxiety. Visibly pleased at such a display of positive work ethic, he beamed brightly.
"They are…" Midori watched the crew of the middle vessel - the Platinum Royal - weave their way through the shrouds and the ratlines like spiders across a web of rope with a skill and agility the likes of which she'd never seen. Every time the breeze picked up she would brace herself if one wavered as if expecting them to fall and come tumbling down onto the deck, so precarious was their duty. "A very spirited crew."
Tsumugu said nothing. He nodded, still smiling, and glanced at his wife with a reassuring sort of expression as if to say: "These men are good. These men will find our daughter."
They found the Commander - head of their bold and courageous endeavour - in a cozy little inn across from the waterfront; sitting by the window and sharing bottles of liquor with those hardy men that would Captain the first few ships preparing to set sail that afternoon. There he sat - dressed in white amidst the navy blues and gold-trimmed uniforms; his head held high; the very picture of dignity and command and yet there was an anxious frown upon his brow. There was some reserve in his greeting; an uneasy tension set in his shoulders…
But the King, so hopeful and positive after having seen such a fine working crew, was blind to it. Tsumugu was introduced to each of the Captains, though, of course, the knowledge that only five ships would be sent out initially was not so pleasing to him. Five ships could not effectively scour the seas, but, after all, he knew that a further fleet of ships would soon be sent to their aid and so he shoved aside his doubts and reassured himself of the positives of their plan as he looked ahead at the Commander - the finest, most loyal young man he could ever have relied on and with an excellent head for tactics if ever he saw one.
"I applaud your work, Commander." The King said earnestly, gesturing out to the grand vessels that could be seen clearly through the window. "They are fine crafts, without a doubt."
Tadase smiled gratefully (if a little strained) at the King's words and peered out at the men-of-war himself. "Thank you, Your Majesty. They are the finest that your navy has to offer. My own craft, the Seraphic Charm, as she is called, happens to be a first-rate man-of-war, Sir. And all the others at least third-rate, sir. We shall be needing their firepower. Surely, I believe, there would be none better for such a journey."
"Excellent." he replied. "Tadase, I would very much like to oversee your crew's work for this afternoon. Of course, I shall be present for the off, Commander. I shall watch from the waterfront this evening as these vessels leave Seiyo and I shall bid you luck as you embark on this daring endeavour… But it would very much settle me further to watch as they are made seaworthy." And then he paused and briefly raised a glass of port to his lips. "After all, you are doing this for the sake of my daughter. I feel it would be wrong of me to ignore all the work you're doing here."
"Your Majesty," Tadase replied resolutely; "you needn't ask." He rose from the table and made eye contact with each of the five Captains. "I shall take His Royal Highness on my inspection of the work, my men. Secure for us one of the back rooms and do call for some fine drink for us on our return."
And, with that, the Captains all bowed respectfully and filtered through the relatively quiet bar. Shortly, Tadase and the two royals were left alone at the table, but not one of them moved to leave. There was a pause before Tadase swallowed thickly and returned his gaze to the man in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the King was quicker.
"Tadase…" His Majesty began, the tone of his voice all of a sudden so soft and so very weary. "You have an excellent crew; excellent crafts… You have possibly the greatest drive and determination that I have ever witnessed… And it means so much to us," he looked up at the younger male with honest eyes and a hint of sorrow in his voice that truly tugged at the Commander's heart; tore at his chest - even filled him with such an unusually overpowering sense of disgust, for he thought that a person would have to be so dastardly low and vile to tear such a loving family apart; "Thank you, Tadase."
The Commander was, for a moment, too stunned to reply. Eventually he hung his head low in a bow and sank back down into his seat. "You didn't come here today to oversee the work, did you, Your Majesty?"
The King laughed lightly. "Well, I admit that both myself and my wife do have great interest in this dock today," - he gestured towards the quays where the five ships bobbed gently on the shallow waves in a hypnotising rhythm - "but what I really want to see for myself is that passion you have in this journey. You are a great leader and you know, Tadase, throughout all of this it somehow appears that I have found myself depending on you. I am astounded that I would allow myself to become so reliant, but it has made me realise that, really, I have far more faith in you than you may believe." He looked past the man and out to the sea and his eyes shone with the reflection of the sunlight on the water. "I realise that, when it comes to my daughter, I rely on you." And now he faced Tadase once again and their eyes were fastened in a lock from which neither could bring themselves to pull away from. "I rely on you to keep my daughter safe because I know that you are the best man for the job… And I really don't believe I could have found a better man for her."
"Your Majesty…" Tadase could not find the words to respond. His mouth opened and closed hopelessly like a flapping fish out of water as he tried and tried again to form a sentence, but no words were made - no sounds could form in his throat. He marvelled at the display of sincerity; the frankness; the pure blind faith that was so unbelievably dangerous for a King to place in someone, yet somehow… he had. And he - the great King of Seiyo - had placed it in him.
But it seemed that the King was not done. He swept his sorrow aside; replaced that tender gaze with one of piercing steel and there was an air of dignity about him now - an air of finesse and authority that Tadase had not seen him display in quite some time and, as he looked on, he found himself quite awed at the sight of this King of men. Tadase reached for a glass of liquor and watched, intrigued as His Majesty began earnestly;
"It must be said that I, after such a terrible thing has befallen, do not wish to see my dear daughter parted from us again once she is safely found," he said and, on the other side of the table, Tadase had to agree. "This incident, well… Well, it has opened my eyes. No longer do I wish her to be found only to send her away to the east. No, once she is found and returned to us, I shall not be betrothing her to the eastern empire."
Tadase's heart began to thrum steadily in his chest, his eyes widening, startled. A little spark of hope pierced his heart as a ray of sunlight bursting through clouds. But, still, he listened on.
"I have been foolish, Commander." Tsumugu said. "I was never blind to the way she looked at you - not even after the two of you were forced to call of your engagement. So, then, once she is with us again… It would be my pleasure to allow you her hand once more, Tadase."
"I…"
Tadase was speechless. Utterly, utterly speechless.
Amu; the woman he had been so harshly and unexpectedly torn from. Amu; for whom he had sworn his love and loyalty. His Amu who only days ago had felt so far and distant; slipping beyond his grasp; a mere spot of pink on the horizon as she made her journey into the east, never to feel the warmth of his embrace nor realise his true devotion to her.
'Amu. Amu. Amu.'
And suddenly there was much more weight on this mission than ever before. Suddenly there lay a hefty burden on the Commander's shoulders; a more searing flame in his heart; a more desperate panic at the back of his mind… But he did not notice, for his soul was flying free as high as the colours of the ships outside as it sank in deep;
'I can find her,' he thought; 'and never have to let her go.'
"Y-Your Majesty," he managed to gasp out, his heart pounding. He was half-glad that he had thought to sit, for he felt his knees go weak to the bone. "Your Majesty, I am flattered!"
Tsumugu waved a hand, he and his wife barely restraining their grins. "Say no more of it, Tadase,"
"But, sir-!"
"Say no more," the King repeated firmly and he stood, beckoning his wife to follow as he turned towards the door. "For my daughter - for Amu - there is no other I would wish her to marry."
"Your Majesty!"
The two of them paused, glancing back to see Tadase, bent in the lowest bow he could manage.
"Your Majesties," he said again, lower this time. "I am flattered. I can assure you that I will do everything - everything! - that I can possibly do to retrieve your daughter safe and sound."
The royals both smiled fondly at him;
"We know."
And then they had gone - slipped out with their guards into the light of day and leaving Tadase in the quiet of the inn to vow for the umpteenth time that all would not be in vain. It would not! He would carry out his promises and bring Amu Hinamori back safely. He would do all he could. He would make those responsible pay and then return to Seiyo with their daughter in tow and he would keep her from harm until his dying day because he would never forgive himself if she were ever to succumb to those disgraceful cutthroats. He vowed and vowed the same religious vow over and over again until they were etched in his mind like carvings upon stone - until they were as solid and secure as the bow of the ship or the masts stood tall and proud against the sky.
And as he boarded the Seraphic Charm later that same afternoon, surrounded by navy men scurrying about the deck, and departed from his seaside town out into the unknown - out into the wild of the sea and the raw heat of the sun and out into perils he could not foresee - he glanced back at the retreating figures of His and Her Majesties and he knew that he could not bear to see them again without Amu on his arm.
Standing on the forecastle and staring out ahead at the sea, he wondered what on Earth he might encounter. The ocean was vast and untameable. The ocean seemed to sink into his very soul. It saturated his skin with salt and had his blood surging through his veins like the flow of the waves until he could not imagine ever existing in any other place that wasn't ever-changing; ever-dynamic; ever-constant. He saw in his mind the legendary tales of buccaneers and buried gold; of maroons abandoned on faraway shores; of the evil deeds and evil ways of a pirate's life as they skipped from shore to shore, plundering and thieving and torching buildings and leaving all to wreck and ruin… And then, in amongst the fires and the smoke and the sea-battles of vicious, pirate Captains, there caught his eye a flash of pink - a pink-haired beauty emerged from the midst of battle, stood by the bow of some rugged vessel, calling out to the sea for anyone who may be listening - for anyone who might be called for help...
To think that Amu had been involved in such a free-for-all way of life caused dread to pool in his stomach.
'Wait for me,' he silently said to the gorgeous woman, watching as her long locks flowed in the breeze;
'Wait for me, Amu! Wait for me because I'll be with you soon! As swiftly as the sun sets I shall find you and bring you back… Back to where you're meant to be.'
The imaginary woman smiled gratefully and Tadase beamed back.
~.~.~
It was at times like this that the world stilled. It was at times like these that the very motion of the earth seemed to slow to a gradual halt; time itself stopping to rest as the day drew to a close. All that seemed to move was the gleam of sunlight upon the waves and the breaking of the foam of the surf as Tsukasa gazed out at the still calm of the ocean. He breathed the cool air, slow and steady, and he stared over the horizon where only hours earlier the first five ships had vanished over the horizon - mere smudges of white and brown in the distance, insignificant against the blue of the sea.
"Well… The start of the journey is moving quickly underway…" Tsukasa mused, leaning against the edge of his balcony. "Of course, the Commander paid no attention to my warnings… But no matter - I suppose it was merely a precaution. After all, the stars cannot be shifted so easily."
Or, so he hoped. But it was out of his hands. He could steer the stars himself as easily as he could keep smoke between his fingers. But still the
voyage had begun and the pages had started to turn - a new chapter in the course of the heavens; a bold new voyage for those two bright constellations that would light up the sky each night like lanterns hung outside country inns to guide the way of travellers in the dark and here the mystic fortune-teller would stand on his balcony in the orange sunset, waiting for the night to fall so that the stars may act out their stories upon a heavenly stage that encompassed the globe for all to see - whether they be a Princess or a pirate or a King of men.
"Whoever you may be," he whispered faintly as he cast his eyes over the fading sky - as the ink of night began settle over the last of the sunset; "the stars will still gaze down just as brightly; just as strongly… No matter who…" he trailed off, but gathered his thoughts just as quickly. "In this wild race across the seven seas, I wonder how great a coincidence it must be for them to cross paths?"
And then, stark and bright against the purple of the oncoming darkness, he saw it - a single, tiny little pinprick of light had flared to life beneath the clouds and the man looked up with an "Ah!", the chinking of his cup and saucer faint and insignificant to his ears.
"My, my, the first star already." A light breath of laughter. The rustle of the wind. The gentle sigh of a seabird asleep in its nest, tucked beneath the roof of one of the balconies below. Tsukasa recognised this star as he recognised all of them. He knew its story; the strength of its light; he knew the pattern of the constellation it belonged to and he traced its outline with a finger, gazing upon it with all the warmth and fondness one would give an old friend. He smiled.
"Let us see where the tide may take it."
~.~.~
