Three chapters! It's like a record for me! And I still have ideas! gasps
Hah, so, I don't own the Prince. I may wish I did, but I don't. Ahh well, c'est la vie.
The first thing the Prince did when he woke up was check to see if Farah's medallion was still in his armor. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was (even though he wasn't sure why he was worried it wouldn't be there), then relaxed back onto the bed he lay on.
"Don't worry, I didn't touch you precious medallion."
The Prince sat back up suddenly, and looked around the room at the sound of that voice, a voice that was only slightly familiar. He found the source: a woman of medium height and build, with shoulder-length, thick brown hair that was covered with a bandanna. She wore a knee-length, sleeveless tunic over a plain shirt and breeches, with a long black overcoat. He struggled to remember who she was, and, better yet, where he was. The woman grinned crookedly, and stood up from the high-backed chair she sat in, coming to sit on a stool near his bed.
"I suppose you don't remember who I am," she drawled, tracing a pattern on the bed sheets. "But, if you don't, I would love to relate my whole life's story to you in hopes that you will remember." The Prince closed his eyes, wondering if this woman had always been so damned sarcastic.
"Nesia," he croaked finally, through lips that felt too dry, "Nesia Shark...Shark something."
"Sharkrider," she corrected him, "and don't forget it." They sat in silence for a while, until the Prince tried to fling his covers off of him, and stand up.
He got the covers off of him, but the second he stood up, he collapsed. Luckily, Nesia was on her feet quickly, grabbing him, and steadying.
"Alright, then," he muttered darkly to himself, "I guess I won't be walking yet..." Nesia heard this, and smirked.
"I guess not," she remarked, helping him sit back onto the bed. The woman then fetched him a cup of water, and sat back down on her stool.
"How long have I been asleep for?" he asked, once he had thirstily drank all the water.
"I would call it more unconscious than asleep," Nesia put in. "So if that's what you meant, then about three days, give or take." The Prince nodded, then gave the cup back to her, and began to inspect his injuries. The woman noticed this, and grinned. "You don't really want to know how hurt you are." Seeing the look on the man's face, she sighed. "Alright...your left wrist is broken, along with three of four ribs, you have some very deep gashes on your sides, and you now only have half of a left ear." Shocked, his hand flew up to his ear, but he just found a bandage.
"And my weapons?" the Prince remembered, looking around for them.
"More like weapon," Nesia replied. "You only had a small dagger when you washed up on my deck." The man groaned, remembering that he had thrown his sword at the door, back in the Fortress. Not that there was much left of it, though. "Now do you want something to eat?" the woman continued. The Prince suddenly realized that he was starving, and nodded. The captain stood, and beckoned for him to follow her.
"You forgot that I can't really walk now," he told her bitterly. She shrugged.
"If you're hungry, then you'd better learn fast." Nesia said, leaning against the wall next to the open door. "You might also want to get dressed," she added, inclining her head towards some folded clothes that sat on a small dresser next to the bed he sat on. She turned then, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. The Prince looked down, just noticing that he wore only a loincloth.
Cursing, he tried to stand up, and almost pitched forwards onto the floor. He sat back down heavily on the bed, considering what to do next. He decided to start by getting dressed, and took the clothes off of the nearby dresser. He pulled on the shirt slowly and painfully, then considered what to do about the breeches. He settled for putting them on one leg at a time, while still sitting down. They were a bit large on him, along with the shirt, but that suited him just fine. He was used to the flowing clothes that most Persians wore. His boots were sitting at the foot of the dresser, and he donned them slowly. Now that he was garbed, he stood up, ready to get some food.
This time he did fall on the floor.
"Goddamned floor," he muttered, pushing himself up to his knees. When he was no longer facing the floor, he noticed a thick wooden crutch leaning against the opposite wall. The only problem was how to get there. He pushed himself to his feet, using the dresser as a support, then stumbled somewhat unsteadily to the wall, and triumphantly grabbed the crutch. Leaning heavily on it, he then headed out the door, and began to search for the kitchen. It was easy to locate, due to the strong smell of slightly burnt food.
It would have been easier to get there, however, if he had the use of his legs, and if he had been used to the rocking motions of a boat.
After falling two more times, the Prince made it into the kitchen, and sat down heavily on a bench. A large, muscular man seemed to be cooking oatmeal in a large pot over a fire. He had long blonde hair that was tied back out of his face, and wore clothes similar to what Nesia was wearing, but without the overcoat. He sported a number of scars on his face and what the Prince could see of his arms. The man turned when he sat down, and grinned.
"Good to see that you're not dead," he remarked cheerfully, bringing the Prince a bowl of thick porridge, that the man began to eat ravenously. "I'm Rico, the first mate on this ship." The blonde man went back to the fire then, wrapped the handle of the pot in a cloth, then lifted it easily onto a hook on an empty fireplace next to it. The Prince was impressed; the pot combined with the oatmeal would be very heavy. Rico then left the room.
"Ah, so you made it to the kitchen, I see," Nesia said as she came into the room through the entrance Rico had just left by, and sat on another bench on the opposite side of the table from the Prince. "You must be hungry enough then." This comment made the Prince stop, and he dropped the spoon back into the porridge.
"I'm eating," he said, dumbfounded. Nesia gave him a curious look, but the man ignored that. This was the first time he had eaten since he was shipwrecked on that damned island. He stared at his bowl incredulously.
"I'm sorry, did we miss a bruise on your head?" the woman asked, an eyebrow raised. The Prince shook his head, and continued to eat.
"Never mind," he trailed off. Nesia narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't pursue the subject. At least, not until the man had finished his oatmeal.
"Now who are you?" she asked, staring intently at him.
"I already told you," the Prince replied.
"That isn't enough for me," the woman continued. "If you're going to be on my ship, I want to know more about you, or I'll toss you back into the sea where you came from." The man wasn't too sure about this claim, however. She likely had some kind of interest in him, or her would be dead right now. Nesia didn't strike him as the type who would help someone unless there was something in it for her. "I know that you came from the Island of Time," she added, "and people don't just stumble across that island. They are always there for a reason." The Prince sighed.
"Alright, I was on a ship to Babylon, when it was attacked by some pirates," he began. He noticed that at the mention of 'pirates', Nesia's eyes narrowed. "The completely destroyed the ship, and killed everyone but me. I fell overboard, and washed up on the shore of the island. I've been looking for a way to get off there since then." She seemed to accept his story- good. He smiled. Two parts truth, one part lie, mix well, and serve warm. They'd eat it all up.
"What about your wounds?" the woman asked after a few moments. "Or did you get them by 'falling down'?"
"One of the guardians on the island attacked me, and threw me into the sea." Nesia was silent again after he said that. Then she stood up, and started towards the door. The Prince stood up though, with surprising speed, and lurched towards her, grabbing her arm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she practically spat at him. The man, half leaning on her, started up at her face.
"If I'm going to be on your ship, I want to know more about you." The Prince threw her own words backat her. Nesia snorted, and backhanded him viciously with her other hand, while pulling her arm out of his grip. The blow made the man fall heavily to his knees. Nesia grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled his face towards her own.
"My ship, my rules." With that , she pushed him backwards, and stalked out of the room.
The Prince pushed himself to his feet with the aid of the table, and grabbed the crutch to lean on. He hobbled to the door, but Rico stood there, blocking his way.
"If you want to survive on this ship," Rico said coldly, all traces of the cheerfulness he had shown earlier gone, "then you will listen to her." He then stepped aside so the Prince could go through. "I would suggest going up on then deck, and getting to work. You're going to be here for a while, so you should get used to it." The injured man ignored this, and returned to Nesia's room.
Once there, he grabbed his breastplate, and strapped it on overtop of his shirt. He put n his wrist braces as well, and then his many belts an his flowing red sash. He tucked his dagger into a sheath at his hip at first, but, after a second's thought, then took it out, and slid it into a special sheath in his boot. Only when this was done did he turn, and start down the hall that led to the stairs up.
Voila! Hahahahaha...please review, and I will try to get the next chapter up soon. It might take longer, though, because our little break after exams is over, and I have to go back to school tomorrow sobs.
But I have a tres easy semester, so I will see what I can do.
Ps- Baten Kaitos is by far the prettiest game I have ever seen. I lux it dearly.