The next morning, Bethany arose while the entire castle was still
snoring like an orchestra tuning up in a wind gale. She was still tired
herself and couldn't stop herself from yawning every few minutes. But she
was required and expected to be up and preparing the morning meals for when
the rogues began to wake up. It was part of her daily routine since she was
5 years old. Mr. Skept, her instructor and teacher from as far back as she
could remember, had raised her to be obedient, humble, attentive and
submissive to other's needs—until his death from a heart attack nearly 3
years ago. While the poor old insect wasn't her true father, he had been
Beth's closest friend with his tender instruction and gentleness towards
her differences and likes. Aside from him, not even the smallest or most
solitary pirate took notice of her. Thus, Beth alone was left to mourn for
and bury him with tears of loss, loneliness and fear. For without someone
to genuinely care for and lead her, the days ahead seemed just as dark,
foreboding and empty as the landscape within the black mountains. However,
her hope never faltered as long as she remembered the majestic,
breathtakingly beautiful land beyond the mountains. Who knows? Maybe one
night, she could sneak away to actually walk among the fields below when
the planet's moon was full. Bethany hoped that no one would take notice of
her absence; she was almost invisible nowadays.
"You there, Girl!" Beth almost let out a scream as she jumped at the sudden, loud voice. "Quiet there or I'll strangle ye with my hands here!" Taking a moment to for a deep breath, Beth turned around to face Kersearge Flint. "Have ye any rum here in this wretched galley of yours?" "Why, y-yes sir. There is always strong drink available for anyone, Sir." And she gestured with her hand to the liquor shelves and cabinets that occupied an entire wall in the barn-sized kitchen. Kersearge followed her gaze and walked over to select himself some strong spirits. Bethany returned to the cutting board where she was slicing onions, chives, oregano, cilantro and other natural herb spices to go with the morning breakfast roast.
Suddenly, an idea came to her! She pondered on it for a little bit and turned to face Flint. "Sir?" she asked. "What is it?!?! Aren't ye supposed to be preparing some food for breakfast!?!?" he growled without taking his six eyes off the bottles he was searching through. "Yes sir, it is my duty. But what I'd like to ask you is what you prefer to dine on in the morning." "What's it to you?" he replied lifting a dark brown 2-liter bottle off the shelf. "Oh, uh, please forgive me sir but that's actually cognac that you hold in your—""WHAT DID YE SAY TO ME!?!?!", Kersearge exploded as he spun around and spit his drunken wrath on her. "First ye question me like yeh's captured me 'n now ya tell I don't know what I drink!?!?!?!?!! Yeh want to meet yer end like those butterballs we powdered yesterday!?!?!?!?!!?" His six bloodshot and yellow eyes were nearly popping with red veins as Beth's gentle brown eyes turned down in defense. "I-I-I'm sorry Sir, I—"WACK!!! Out of nowhere, Kersearge swung his hard, bone-knuckled left hand and hit Beth on the right side of her soft face. The blow was so sudden and powerful that she was immediately knocked to the hard floor where she hit here forehead hard. She didn't lose consciousness but the pain was so intense and hurt so much that she started to cry hard. Kersearge, in his intoxicated stupor, continued to glare down upon her in his selfish, iron- thick heart. Suddenly, he heard two noises behind him—one sounded like a door creaking open and another like a dull thud. Kersearge turned around to see what it was. The only thing his mind perceived was the wooden butt of a gun being swung into his forehead.
Through her tears of pain and hurt, Beth heard a loud whack and small grunt and then the unconscious form of Kearsarge Flint crumpled to the floor next to her. In her pain, she couldn't react but her stunned mind was still able to hear the sounds. She wanted to turn her head to see but couldn't because her body felt heavy from the blow. Then, she heard three footfalls as someone approached her. Suddenly, a hand touched her shoulder and she reactively flinched and cringed, trying to make herself into a "protective" fetal position. "Shhhhhh, It's okay,". The voice was strong and masculine yet both tender and concerned. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you, he's out; I'll protect you." Beth trembled even though the unknown person's voice sounded sweet and his touch felt friendly. "H-h-h-who-who...are...you?" she stammered through her rapid, frightened breathing. There was no answer but then, another strong hand came into her view as it slid beneath her shoulder. Both hands then lifted her upper body and turned her. Beth closed her eyes and bunched her arms together in a defensive, reflexive manner as if she was about to be struck again. But the voice came to her again. "It's alright, you're safe; I'm not going to hurt you; please, look at me." Beth responded to the last command and slowly opened her eyes. Right in front of her and holding her up, was a young man with a kind, tender expression on his face that made Beth stare at him. He had dark brown hair that hung straight with a few big strands that framed his slightly angled face. His small lips were set in a soft, compassionate posture. But what really captivated Beth was his eyes; they were big, round orbs with light blue irises. Eyes like a Spring sky, thought Beth as the words of the Flint Legend came to her. She was so awed that she couldn't speak. Neither did the stranger; he just held his gaze although his eyes seemed to droop and tears began to form in them. Beth was overtaken. Not only had she never seen any human before—man or woman—she had never seen any creature with such eyes, such tenderness for her, such...she couldn't think any more. So, she leaned up and fell into the young man's bosom. There, she let go of her tears again. Only this time, they were born out of a wounded heart that never imagined being held by another with such care. And the stranger only tightened his embrace and lowered his head onto her shoulder as tears began to flow from his eyes as well. But Beth's long-rejected heart and buried emotions were having their revenge and she continued to sob harder. For a long time, the girl wept until weariness mastered her poor, overwrought body and she fell into a deep sleep right in the loving embrace of someone she now felt she could trust.
"You there, Girl!" Beth almost let out a scream as she jumped at the sudden, loud voice. "Quiet there or I'll strangle ye with my hands here!" Taking a moment to for a deep breath, Beth turned around to face Kersearge Flint. "Have ye any rum here in this wretched galley of yours?" "Why, y-yes sir. There is always strong drink available for anyone, Sir." And she gestured with her hand to the liquor shelves and cabinets that occupied an entire wall in the barn-sized kitchen. Kersearge followed her gaze and walked over to select himself some strong spirits. Bethany returned to the cutting board where she was slicing onions, chives, oregano, cilantro and other natural herb spices to go with the morning breakfast roast.
Suddenly, an idea came to her! She pondered on it for a little bit and turned to face Flint. "Sir?" she asked. "What is it?!?! Aren't ye supposed to be preparing some food for breakfast!?!?" he growled without taking his six eyes off the bottles he was searching through. "Yes sir, it is my duty. But what I'd like to ask you is what you prefer to dine on in the morning." "What's it to you?" he replied lifting a dark brown 2-liter bottle off the shelf. "Oh, uh, please forgive me sir but that's actually cognac that you hold in your—""WHAT DID YE SAY TO ME!?!?!", Kersearge exploded as he spun around and spit his drunken wrath on her. "First ye question me like yeh's captured me 'n now ya tell I don't know what I drink!?!?!?!?!! Yeh want to meet yer end like those butterballs we powdered yesterday!?!?!?!?!!?" His six bloodshot and yellow eyes were nearly popping with red veins as Beth's gentle brown eyes turned down in defense. "I-I-I'm sorry Sir, I—"WACK!!! Out of nowhere, Kersearge swung his hard, bone-knuckled left hand and hit Beth on the right side of her soft face. The blow was so sudden and powerful that she was immediately knocked to the hard floor where she hit here forehead hard. She didn't lose consciousness but the pain was so intense and hurt so much that she started to cry hard. Kersearge, in his intoxicated stupor, continued to glare down upon her in his selfish, iron- thick heart. Suddenly, he heard two noises behind him—one sounded like a door creaking open and another like a dull thud. Kersearge turned around to see what it was. The only thing his mind perceived was the wooden butt of a gun being swung into his forehead.
Through her tears of pain and hurt, Beth heard a loud whack and small grunt and then the unconscious form of Kearsarge Flint crumpled to the floor next to her. In her pain, she couldn't react but her stunned mind was still able to hear the sounds. She wanted to turn her head to see but couldn't because her body felt heavy from the blow. Then, she heard three footfalls as someone approached her. Suddenly, a hand touched her shoulder and she reactively flinched and cringed, trying to make herself into a "protective" fetal position. "Shhhhhh, It's okay,". The voice was strong and masculine yet both tender and concerned. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you, he's out; I'll protect you." Beth trembled even though the unknown person's voice sounded sweet and his touch felt friendly. "H-h-h-who-who...are...you?" she stammered through her rapid, frightened breathing. There was no answer but then, another strong hand came into her view as it slid beneath her shoulder. Both hands then lifted her upper body and turned her. Beth closed her eyes and bunched her arms together in a defensive, reflexive manner as if she was about to be struck again. But the voice came to her again. "It's alright, you're safe; I'm not going to hurt you; please, look at me." Beth responded to the last command and slowly opened her eyes. Right in front of her and holding her up, was a young man with a kind, tender expression on his face that made Beth stare at him. He had dark brown hair that hung straight with a few big strands that framed his slightly angled face. His small lips were set in a soft, compassionate posture. But what really captivated Beth was his eyes; they were big, round orbs with light blue irises. Eyes like a Spring sky, thought Beth as the words of the Flint Legend came to her. She was so awed that she couldn't speak. Neither did the stranger; he just held his gaze although his eyes seemed to droop and tears began to form in them. Beth was overtaken. Not only had she never seen any human before—man or woman—she had never seen any creature with such eyes, such tenderness for her, such...she couldn't think any more. So, she leaned up and fell into the young man's bosom. There, she let go of her tears again. Only this time, they were born out of a wounded heart that never imagined being held by another with such care. And the stranger only tightened his embrace and lowered his head onto her shoulder as tears began to flow from his eyes as well. But Beth's long-rejected heart and buried emotions were having their revenge and she continued to sob harder. For a long time, the girl wept until weariness mastered her poor, overwrought body and she fell into a deep sleep right in the loving embrace of someone she now felt she could trust.