Sergundra
Either I've earned the IQ of a pickle, or this fic hasn't been updated in….years? Haha…ahem. Here we go. Amarant fic…yay….
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"Something about this continent changes every time I see it…"
Cora wrinkled her nose and looked up from her present workings -- steering the eight-ton airship through some difficult clouds. "What was that Amses?"
"Hmm…nothing."
The trip had been silent since take-off, which was more unusual for the fifty-nine-year-old guardian than it was for even the large-mouthed eleven-year-old Cora. Amses had done nothing more but stand at the door of the cabin, gazing out at the thick, soupy clouds through the glass. Deciding this was a normal mood for an old man in the air, Cora had made no attempt to mention her troubles to him. She was, in fact, trying hard to steer a straight course…but it seemed every time she flew straight, something pushed the ship to one side. It was as if she was flying into a giant, negatively charged field…and she herself was charged no differently.
"….However, I am slightly concerned about your ability to fly. I am a man with an imagination, Cora, but I wasn't imagining those violent rocks…what's wrong with the ship?"
The girl tore her eyes away from the windscreen, and glared curiously at her guardian. It was now or never. "Nothing is wrong with the ship…we're just suffering a major magnetic storm…that's all. I think that the clouds and the ship are both negatively charged…there's not enough positive electrons to-"
Amses interrupted her. "Yes, Cora…I too, took science in my younger schooling years."
"Then you of all people should know what a thunder storm looks like."
"Hmmm," Amses grunted. "Didn't bother to concern myself with it…there's not diddly chance of us getting shocked if we're suffering these conditions."
"Then go to sleep. We won't have clearance from this storm for at least another hour or so," Cora spoke as she wildly spun the steering mechanism to the right, fighting off yet another strong pull from the storm. Amses nearly fell flat on his face as a fierce shock ripped through the ship.
"Ah, Cora…" the guardian grumbled. "I'll be asleep in my grave before this is over…"
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It hadn't been the brightest thing to do, nor had it been the most reasonable…but of all forms of traveling, the bounty hunter had to admit that boats were the safest…and the most abundant. No matter how dumb a thing it was to do, the fact that he'd thought of it at all was simple luck.
In either case, the small, coastal town of Tyrock had one less, acre-sized yacht for sale.
It wasn't as if anyone was going to buy it, anyhow. Pleasure cruises were an out thing in the northern sea. Anyways, it was awkward enough steering a small ship designed for luxuries through the rough waves of the mid-sea, but at least it was something. His mind had already started to debate the easiest way to swim across when he had stumbled across a hidden settlement. They were fishermen, the entire tribe…and they were all human. The Outer Continent possessed human life and he was the first to figure it out.
What luck.
Besides, what did it matter to him? He was only crossing the damn sea because he needed to know who exactly was trying to kill him. If he wasn't mistaken, only a fool would sit around and wait for an assassin to appear and murder him in his sleep.
Who was the bigger fool: the one who waited, or the one who set out to find the killer?
He wasn't a sailor. He'd never piloted a ship, in water or air, in his entire life before. Now he was. Where was the irony? It would take several more days just to catch sight of the next continent. It would take another full day to land and scale the tough cliffs of the Forgotten Continent shore. Another three days to reach Oilivert, and what would he do then? What if they had left with Lani? Or worse – killed her?
Better, he reminded himself. Definitely better.
Amidst his thoughts, his wariness had subsided. When his senses kicked in, the sun had touched the horizon, the sky dimming to a perfect orange. Not only that, but the days wind's coughed feebly, and then died. His sail sagged, dead as a wet blanket. Then it was quiet. He gave in.
He skipped his evening meal. The wind had been poor since he had set sail, and he simply knew that the distance he had covered was far less than what it should have been. Quietly, he threw some line onto the sail and fastened a toy bell he had picked up earlier to one of the ropes. When the wind picked up again, it would wake him. And so he prepared to sleep.
Fate laughed at him.
His ears picked up the distant sound of a steady drone. He ignored it. It was just some foghorn from an island lighthouse. Sleep tugged at his mind.
A serpent tugged at his boat.
The jolt sent him to his feet, his hands grasping the side of the boat until his knuckles whitened. Beneath the surface of the black water, a flat, toothy face with twin, glowing eyes stared back at him. Like fate, it laughed at him, and jerked at the yacht's rudder again with its enwrapped tail. The yacht did a very threatening roll, nearly sinking one side under the still water.
The sea growled, exaggerating the dull roar of the dragon-sized snake that clawed at the boat's hull. Unknown the to single crewman, the drone he had heard only minutes earlier grew steadily louder. But the monster was making enough noise to deafen the bounty hunter for several moments. Before Amarant had strapped his Claws to deal with the creature, it had reached out with both, skinny arms, and capsized the yacht. But not before it's determined prey abandoned the bow, readying his fists to attack the predator.
But he could not see. The water was cold, and dark. It numbed his limbs instantly. He did not even try to resurface. The serpent had thought it was pretty clever, but it would not find him if he let himself sink. It was probably too busy ripping the yacht apart in search of its missing quarry to realize that the man had evaded him completely. And so he drifted deeper, to certain death, with a content smirk on his numbing face.
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"Amses! Wake up!"
The old man snorted, snapping his eyes open to see none other than the gleaming, demanding glare of a stubborn eleven-year-old, inches from his face. He squinted, and then closed his eyes again, grunting and grumbling about it being midnight and well past the lady's bedtime. Cora sighed, pinching her nose as the backed away.
"Oh, geez, your breath stinks. Amses, get up! There's something below us and I don't know what it is."
"Just some ship…probably…" yawned the sleepy guardian. He felt slumber lure him into a peaceful daze.
"Amses!"
He jolted awake. "Yes…milady…" Yawning heavily, the old man dragged himself to his feet. His back popped miserably.
Cora had to half-drag him into the cockpit eventually, pushing pulling, shoving – anything to make the old man move faster. When he was safely planted in front of the main viewer, Cora raced over to the control panel and punched a steely button. Despite the grogginess he felt, Amses' mind went completely rigid when he saw the shape on the screen. The infrared light Cora had activated illuminated the sea serpents enormous form. The creature lifted its head to the droning airship, hissed, and then fled, but not before turning over the boat it had wrapped its tail about.
It was only a brief instinct, but through his mounting fatigue Amses caught a glimpse of something, a moving figure near the bow of the yacht. Cora sighed, watching the underbelly of the boat float about for a few moments before turning her eyes to her guardian. "Oh well, it was just a-"
Amses lifted a quiet hand to silence her. She shut her mouth, evidently confused by her mentor's sudden awareness. The old man stepped closer, shaking his head. "Cora," he said softly. "Move the ship ahead two sharls and turn on the heat sensors."
The girl lifted and eyebrow. "Amses, there were no people on that boat. Come on, it's a pleasure yacht. What kind of morons would sail-"
"Cora, turn on the heat sensors."
She obeyed, but not before making an unpleasant face.
Her scowl immediately turned into a pale expression of cold shock when the faintest, red glow of a descending, fading object appeared on the right side of the capsized bow. It flickered, and then disappeared, obviously having sunk too far to be detected. Either that, or…
"Rewind it."
"Huh?" she blinked in disbelief at the old man when he demanded it. "Amses, this isn't being-"
Growling, Amses, strode forward and punched a blinking yellow button. The screen flashed as it moved in reverse direction. Scanning the colors as they passed, Amses punched the console again when the red glow was in full view. Cora watched on in awe, as the old man switched off the heat sensors and reactivated the infrared vision. Then, she squeaked.
"It appears we've identified our moron," the old man sighed. Then, "Cora, little lady, what do you think your doing?"
"What does it look like?" the girl inquired, struggling into the filmy suit that hung on a rack near the pod consoles. "That water is about point one over zero. Any lower, it'd be ice. You think I'm letting him die like that?"
"That pod is not well insulated. It is used for waters around the Mist Continent, little lady, and you will not be going down there if I can help it."
"Well you can't," the girl stated firmly. "Because I'm going down there whether you chain me to the bridge or not."
And, with no further argument, she slid into the narrow door of the ship's excavating pod. The next moment, she had entered the code and disengaged from the hovering airship. Amses stood in silent protest as the roughly cylinder craft plummeted into the freezing waters below. Feeling anything but helpless, he quickly ended the tape and watched the large, red blob of heat sink lower into the endless depths. It disappeared.
"Ams-" her voice crackled on the transmitter attached to the screen. The old man lifted a brow. Amse…dark dow...here. I think…ee him."
"Good girl," he said, mostly to himself. "Then get 'im before your gears turn to ice."
"I…an't." There was earnest in her tone. "Th...od's not equip…da stuff."
"Cora," the old man warned. "Don't go too deep. I can barely hear you."
"I…ound him," she announced. "But I…ave to-"
Her voice was suddenly cut off by a loud, consistent wave of static. Something dark, and ominous passed just below the surface of the water, writing left and right. Its tail whipped behind it like a flag of triumph, just before it lifted its glowing eyes, and dived. Amses felt his heart freeze solid. The sea's icy waters would have melted the horror that encased his mind.
"Cora," he grunted, stumbling over to the screen. "Cora! Cora, get outta there, now! You hear me? Cora!"
The signal was not cut. The static had lifted, but the only sounds that were emitted by the viewer were the faint blips of the pod's consoles. It was silent. Not a noise.
Swearing openly, forgetting himself for the briefest moments, Amses dashed to the main controls of the ship. Somehow, he managed to keep a still hand while he punched in a command and steered the ship closer to the surface of the water. Gently, with the barest jolts on the ship floor, he lit on the cool, black water, and allowed the ship to drift aimlessly. He was already out of the cockpit door and onto the deck before the ship had made a full landing.
He felt a gentle vibration through his feet, as the descending monster either roared in either triumph, or ecstasy. Quickly, he ran his hand over the small panel at the bow of the floating ship, before stepping onto the small platform that lowered it's belly to the softly lapping water.
Minutes of icy silence passed. Amses felt as if his heart would burst. There were no continuing signs of a struggle or ascending shapes. Perhaps the serpent had grabbed little Cora from the water when she tried to retrieve the cursed man. Perhaps the monster had impaled the ship on her return, or perhaps it had sunk her to the bottom of the oceans for the sheer joy of spiteful killing…
The water at the edge of the platform exploded then, nearly sending the old man back-first into the quiet sea behind. A small, gloved hand shot out of the inky water and heaved the following girl onto the metal floor. She began to cough, rolling over in an effort to empty the salt water from her airway.
"Gods, Cora," the old man swore, dropping to his knees. He drew his wooly cloak from over his head and draped it over her shoulders, tilting his head to check her face despite the creaks in his spine.
"Ams…Amses!" the girl gasped, clinging to his sleeve. Between fits of sputtering, she spoke. "It…it has him! It…it came from nowhere…I had him…I took him to the pod…but that monster…it broke it….before we reached the surface….I got out, Amses…I got out, but…"
"Cora, it's a'right," pressed the old man, resisting the urge to embrace the shuddering girl. "You're all right…you're fine…"
"But Amarant!" she snapped, collapsing onto her side. She began to breath more easily, but, not unexpectedly, ready to cry… "I didn't get to him fast enough! If I'd been there just…a little earlier…"
"Little lady, you couldn't help him if you wanted to." Amses brushed the wet hair from her eyes. "Oh gods be thanked that you're alive…"
Before either of the two could continue their sad reflection, a loud, or rather strong rumbling began to cause the platform to tremble violently. The metal rattled against the guiding rails, the water at the platform's edge beginning to fizz and spurt dangerously. Without further warning, a very large hand, attached to a pale, gripping arm, latched onto the slippery edge of the flooring. The serpent's roar could be heard and felt through the vibrating metal, and the creature's slender head and jaws burst out of the surface in the very moment a tired, angry-looking bounty hunter lifted himself feebly over the edge of the platform.
Luckily, even at his age, Amses kept a cool sense of reflexes that determined the fate of all three the very moment he saw the snake's flashing teeth. A wet scrambling hand went to the surfacing trigger on the platform's console. The monster had sunk, ready to leap and strike again, but not before the platform returned and married with the main deck.
Below, the serpent raged, tearing with no effect at the metal hull. Screeching a last, defying cry, it dove beneath the rippling blackness and disappeared.
No one was able to react at first, which included the stunned silence that Cora wadded herself in. The sheer sight of him frightened and overjoyed her at once, contrasting the two feeling into utter stupor. Then, snapping out of her dead mono trance, she lunged for the wet, confused Amarant with her arms outstretched.
"Ow," he grunted, prying at the clinging girl. Accepting that his efforts were as effective as coaxing steel to burn, he gave up and concentrated on breathing instead.
"I'll be a rat's uncle," the old man chuckled. Amses shook his graying hair from his eyes. "You Corals are full of surprises."
"You have…no idea," Amarant growled, forcing his weight unto a single arm. It proved less worthy of accepting the burden, and he barely managed to catch himself before falling flat on his face.
Cora was talking nonstop. "I was just afraid that you were gone and that we were never going to see you again and just imagine the way Sir Zidane would have been if I told him about you and just all of that was so scary, I thought you were dead and that I hadn't saved you after all and it was all so stupid!"
"Cora," said Amses, standing to wrap his gnarled hands about her middle. Surprised, the girl released the bounty hunter and stood on her own two feet with the aid of her guardian, whom smiled at her. "You saved him enough, didn't she, Coral?"
Amarant's glare was about as cold as the hell he'd just experienced. But he did not reply to make the matter worse, and instead, managed to support himself on his senseless limbs with the aid of the bow's railing.
"I almost let him die!" said Cora, through gritted teeth. She felt like punching herself in the face.
"He was dead anyhow," said the old man, softly. "Don't you agree, Amarant?"
"Whatever," he grumbled, as the feeling slowly seeped back into his arms. "And perfectly happy with it, too."
Cora felt a sting of offense invade part of her silent relief. "Excuse me? You were willing to die down there? Well, gee, you should have said so before I jumped at the chance to save your life!"
"It's hard enough to speak when you're drowning," Amarant said, clearly struggling to restrain his temper. Cora looked ready enough to box him.
"Missus," Amses warned throatily, placing a hand softly on her shoulder. "Don't go killin' him so soon after rescuing him."
An unforgiving stare was passed between men. Amses grinned merrily. "You should wait at least a few days."
"I didn't ask…for help," the bounty hunter pointed out, risking an attempt to stand freely. He succeeded. Barely.
"How could you?" snapped the eleven-year-old. "I thought you were drowning."
Amses felt a familiar glitter enter his eyes. "Now, children…"
It was rather unexpected when the bounty hunter slowed somewhat, and sunk to one knee. Fighting the surrounding darkness that began to shroud his mind, he gripped at the railing in order to make himself stand again. But his fortune turned away, and he collapsed, still as cool metal that braced him. Cora squealed at the sight of the mangled mess of his one boot, "Holy shi-"
"Missus," grunted the old man, eyes wide in surprise. He hastily knelt beside the unconscious man and almost retched when the putrid smell of deadly toxins hit his lungs. He choked, turning away from the infected hunter and veiling his airways with the front of his shirt. Through the material, he spoke calmly to Cora. "Cora, run and grab somethin' that'll serve as a bandage, and for gods sake get those masks on the wall near the airbridge door."
Mouth agape, she scrambled to oblige. She quickly returned with the requested gas masks, and a roll of medical bandages from the kit she had found hanging just below them. Handing both one mask and the bandages to her guardian, she strapped the other bulky contraption to her face. Amses had already assembled his mask, and was briskly tying the bandages around the feverishly bleeding wound. "Get inside," he said through the nozzle of his mask. "I'm bringin' him in, so you'd better clear the infirmary bed."
Again, the girl ran ahead to carry out his orders. Amses was left with what he had already predicted a hopeless case. But he was never known as a man ready to give anything up. There were matters to attend to now…and if he dawdled, the man that had entranced his friend's daughter would not survive.