O'MALLEY
You know. If someone had told him he'd be one of the first humans to fly, that wasn't a mage? He'd have had them thrown over for drinking the sea spray and putting them at risk with the sirens. He had a great deal of patience over his years as a Captain. But now that was overboard. Why? Cause they were FUCKING FLYING!
Literally. Both in time and distance. He had done the math… in his head. What should take them three months was cut to three weeks? Four tops if they don't hit that storm that had suddenly appeared in their course. It was a bad one too if the Druids were to be believed. Fucking Druids, say we will have open skies all the way to the coral and that was obviously wrong.
But for the most part the day before was one hell of an eye opener. No one. Not even his dad had thought of making a literal ship fly. If someone said this was all his idea? He's going to lie. Do you know how much Gold he'll make when everyone comes to him to learn the secrets to flying? Even refusal to tell means more. Captain Edward "Mad Shark of the East" Watanabe was going to live a long happy life after all this shit. Even with all the costs of having to fix the aft section of the Rage. And replace the best damned Quartermaster to ever live on these seas.
Edward still had no idea where in the Balls of Death Mr. Johnson ended up. "Cap?" He had a suspicion he was simply dead. Much as it pained him to even think the idea the man was sent hurtling through a full deck from what he was able to discern. Took the Wheel and the Boatswain on duty with him. And with the speed they'd been going there was no way they could drop a small boat to go get them in the off chance they survived. They'd only be left behind.
"Captain." Hell, that man was basically his uncle from how long he knew him. Practically taught him everything it came to with the books. Money mostly. But even just the thought of it brought a shadow of a smile to his face. No one had seen which way he or his carcass had flown after the Shaman's "awakening" as the other Wizards called it.
After the whole thing had finally set in that they were flying and Mrs. Täro was the one responsible; they had tried to swarm her to question her. Only thing stopping them was the fact she was sitting on the Bowsprit after the start of the whole mess.
Best part was she responded; albeit haphazardly and over the blowing winds, to some of the questions but it was always gibberish. Some of it made sense if you were focusing on other things. But that was about it. The wizards did chants and spells and a number of other things to figure out what was going on and oh boy….
Apparently that wizard in blue and gold had been right. With her soul Gone she was an open vessel. Her soul wasn't really gone mind you. "Captain." It was shattered. Like if a cup was broken and put back together, in a bowl, filled with water, with wet rags to keep it together. The shape was there… but that's all that was there. Things never stayed in the cup, or the bowl for that matter.
The mages have gone insane on what they should be doing. Some are saying she should be studied and left alone, others are to put her somewhere safe and "study" her i.e. put her in a cage and dissect her like a fish. Ain't no way in the great blue that he would let that happen even less than the final option. The rest; they are saying to kill her. To murder her before anything could happen. Such as the unwanted possessions she is currently going through.
That's right. She is fucking possessed, in the plural form no less, some fucking how. "Captain!" But not if that makes sense. The Mages say she is a Conduit for the lost souls on the ocean. They are using her like she is unwittingly using them. They are feeding her the power to do… This. And she is giving them access to the living world again. That's why she is babbling like a sea soaked castaway. It was damn funny sometimes and terrifying in others. Especially when the Wizards started asking questions.
The questions the Mages asked her were answered. Just not at the right "time". Literally. Some answers were given before a certain mage came forward with great enthusiasm and others well after they had left in barely a whisper. The only time she seemed to be 'normal' was when he talked to her.
Or at least when he tried to. It was like she was just barely out of the stages of childhood. She stopped everything she was doing to speak with him. Like a puppet with their strings cut. He *SMACK* "CAPTAIN!"
"FUCK!", was his response from the deck from where his face had decided to meet it after he was suddenly attacked from behind. Unprovoked he might add! "What!" He demanded, rounding on the only fool left aboard to do such a thing without any repercussions. That being his First Mate.
"What could you possibly want Ms. Roum?" He seethed at her. Her usual look of blank resignation actually replaced with a look of anxious uncertainty. "I told you ya damned fool!" she shouted pointing toward the way that damned storm appeared. "The storm is gone!"
What? Going blank he followed her arm to her pointing finger out to the open ocean to see that the storm was in fact gone. Huh. Would you look at that. "Would you care to explain?" she practically demanded.
He turned back to her with a look of surprise. "What? How do you think I had anything to do with this?" He was reeling from her now. She had the full look. From hands on the hips, that lean forward, to her head tilted just enough that he had seen it on plenty a woman who was all but ready to either take his purse for time in heaven, or too take his head. She was definitely the latter. Cause he's already seen her from the prior and it most certainly wasn't that.
"You have done nothing since you woke up this morning but stare at her." She stated, pointing towards the Shaman. Oh shit really? If that were… no that can't be true. It was only… ohhh it's definitely past noon. He definitely missed lunch. But that still didn't give Ms. Bethany Roum; of all people, permission to hit him.
"I will swear on hats over hoods that I did no such thing. I may have looked in that direction, yes. But I most certainly wasn't staring." He said, turning back to look at the mad woman on the tip of his ship. And again there she was babbling to herself. She almost looked normal if she were in a study back south. Those bastards talked to themselves more than actual people. 'I should know. My mother was one'. Where do you think he picked it up from?
But aside from that… yeah, what happened to that damned storm? "Did you talk with the Druids?"
"Of course I talked to the stinking Druids. I swear even in the middle of the bollocks oceans they still smell like dirt and shite." She said looking back to one of the ladder wells leading down into the ship. "They don't know anything. They are going battier with this than the wizards with her." She gestured over his shoulder to said woman who was now hanging by her legs whistling a tune no one recognized.
"They keep saying the scales have tilted. Death has been cheated and all that "Prophecy is nigh" shite." she merely got a look of 'are you kidding' from the Captain. Her response? A shrug and a hum signaling lack of knowledge every species recognized. Even those damnable lizard folk who can't read a room for their tail in a bear trap.
"Well isn't that just great." he muttered, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead. Too many facepalms in a week is counter productive to one's mental health after all. "You know the one thing I keep on saying Beth?" he looked back out to the ocean's rolling waves. If there was one thing that helped clear his head it would always be this.
"Uh, which one captain? Is it the one about hoods? Oh what about Dwarves and gold! No, that's not it. What about∼" Ohhh, if she wasn't the most competent first mate he's had in the three years he'd known her he would have thrown her overboard for knowing exactly how to pull his thread. "No. Miss Roum." He gave a practically threatening whisper that shut her right up. Everyone on the Banyan only knew one rule.
Don't fuck with the Captain.
Sure she's pushed her luck in the past on multiple occasions and come out better off for it, but that's because there was always a bet involved that he lost every time. But with all the shit that's gone on then there's no right way to discern the Captains mental fortitude at the given moment.
"You know the one." He was right in front of her now. The light around his face was gone. Obscured by the shadows cast by his Tricorn. Didn't help he was a full head taller than her. She had to use a serious amount of self control not to shudder or show any sign of weakness. The man was gone at the moment. The shark was on the prowl now.
"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea." His voice was all but a blade held at her throat with the tone he held. "If those damn druids think death has been cheated then some things have happened out there and we are heading right for it." He had turned away from her now. She released whispered pants of air she knew she was holding in. She was safe. His attention wasn't on her.
"Get with those druids and figure out what the Fuck that business about a prophecy is." he spoke again. With his back to her he allowed the look of stoicism to drop in place of dejection. He hated putting up that front, especially to his first mate. But if death was at all mentioned the time for jokes was gone. And with the mention of a prophecy then he was sure as the clouds in the sky was he going to take it seriously. The only response he heard was an "Aye Captain!" and the sprinting of feet on plank to get away from the "Mad Shark". He still doesn't truly know how he got that title. But that doesn't matter right now!
Every little random shite on this expedition reeked something foul and now there is mention of a God's damned prophecy?! It was all making sense now. Even if only a little. The Gods were watching. Maybe not just the Rage and her crew but every other boat on their way to this "New Land" no one has heard about in centuries. They must be if all of this meant anything. First pirates, a problem with stowaways, then cursed coral, and finally the Shaman 'waking' along with a quarter of his ship being blown apart? His father taught him there is no such thing as coincidences, especially out on the open ocean's tides.
The gods are peeling the scales so only the meat is left. There has been no sighting of that blue/gold mage since the incident and her all but saving his life. Could that have been one of them?
Doesn't matter. If what he remembers of the stories his mother told him every time the people were tested by their gods it consisted of anywhere from six to thirteen trials. That means four maybe five if the damage counts for anything but definitely four. They have been tested four times. And hopefully passed those four.
So that means... two left, maybe.
Then what was that storm? Is there someone ahead of them? If so then what are they to expect? 'Death has been cheated' as the druids said. Did they pass? Or did they lose and live?
He had too many questions and his damned quarters were destroyed so he had nothing to write them down on. He spent a pretty coin on those magic boards and if the carnage was anything to look at then they were gone as well.
He was so transfixed on his inner monologue he failed to notice Bethany Roum's appearance at his side until he turned and jumped startled at her appearance. If she had anything to show from that she didn't. "Report," was his only response.
"The gods cursed the land we are headed towards. The Druids gave me a whole story of rhymes but the gist of it is we are sailing to a land of the dead, Captain. Forgotten to time and stricken from history. The gods don't want anyone going there. And they just sicked their hounds." he swore she looked scared. Not in the open sense like any rational creature. But subdued in the sense of controlled fear. Dilated pupils, slight shake in the hands, quiver in the lips every so often. He had known her to be a very expressive individual when it came to her feelings. But she never showed fear. He knows fear, and she was absolutely terrified. But that does nothing to describe the gibberish she just said.
"Explain. Now." Land of the Dead? WHAT? This is all just some sick joke isn't it?
"That storm we saw. It was one of them, Captain. The druids are going nuts cause the ocean's been free of a god's touch for nearly all of history. That was the first time any have acted on the waters." She was openly sweating now. What in the unknown hells is so bad she was this scared.
"The Gods never cared for the waters and what happened within her. So why now?" She practically demanded an answer from him. She may be scared but she could still read him like a book when he was confused. It was one of the few reasons why he still kept her as a first. She made him think even when he didn't want to.
"The gods never cared because none of them; as far as I'm aware, held any power over it. That's why most mage enclaves are on islands. They don't have to fear retribution if the gods won't bother with the one source easily provided to send them to ruin." He stated in a practiced answer he had used and heard often in his half century among the living. Doesn't mean they still fell though. Gods are real spiteful sometimes. That didn't seem to be the answer she wanted.
"The gods don't control the oceans. All accounts point to it being uncontrollable by either mortal or god. It can be pointed and shifted but never commanded." That was a closer one. But still not the right one. The only reason why he was even playing this 'game' with her was that she looked half ready to jump ship even though she was standing as straight as a plank.
"I don't know! The gods finally got one for the oceans!?" He finally snapped, throwing his hands in the air. Watanabe was a great many things but religious was not one of them. The gods could do whatever the fuck they wanted in his opinion so long as they left him and his crew out of it. But, "Oh shit." He muttered. Realization finally dawning on him. He looked back at Miss Roum, her eyes practically screaming the confirmation of practically every sailor's worst fear.
He turned back to facing the way the storm started. "They own the seas now." He practically whimpered. What changed? Two thousand years of recorded history, most destroyed, replaced, or plain forgotten and not once was there ever a mention of a god of the ocean. "They know."
It all made sense. The pieces of the board were all falling into place in his head now. The gods are playing a game. It's a race. This whole ordeal from the start. How many others were involved if he was being spied on almost constantly. That's what those stowaways must have been, saboteurs. A spike of rage rose up at the thought they'd sink not only his beloved ship but the some three hundred souls of the colonists she was carrying below deck. And now someone did something that the gods do not like and they can't do anything. So what do you do if you can't fix something? You get someone who can.
"There's a god of the oceans now," he said in a whisper. "And if they own the waters… we're fucked." He would have all but fell to his knees had he not been the captain. So all he did was resign himself to take off his hat to cradle at his chest and look to the skies. "Is this all a game to you bastards, the lives of every man, woman, and child? Just some rocks to skip till they sink?"
"CAPTAIN!" His musings interrupted by a shout from the crows nest. Whipping to the scream for his attention he saw one of his crew men pointing straight ahead, right where the storm had been. "ROGUE WAVE! SHE"S GOT A VESSEL ATOP HER!"
What? Whipping back around he spotted exactly what his spotter told him. A massive wave with a little dot at her peak. Reaching into his coat he pulled out a spyglass to hopefully gleam some more info.
It was a big ship. A Man of War as the easterners like to call 'em. Bloody Easters who call a ship a he? It held all the same points of any eastern ship. Tent like sails, Oaken hull, and three masts for her size. But the striking feature where her sails were a vibrant green. Strange but not uncommon, many captains liked to dye their sails as a way to distinguish their ships. Hell he's done the same! But going further up to look for a crest or sign of affiliation he saw nothing. That meant two things: either they saw them too and were waiting or they held ties to no one. Just like the Rage.
"Control!" He shouted behind him. He got an 'Aye, Captain' in response. "Raise the Red Flag!" If they did see them then this would get an answer. A Flag of Red was basically a war cry. And with the shit they're dealing with then a fight was more than likely coming their way. No way around it. The gods are showing their hand. One of them at least. He watched it rise before turning around.
He looked back out with the glass to see they had gotten significantly closer so that he could make out the ship without his glass. He still used it to try to gleam some detail. The crew aboard was running around with gusto. They were definitely from the east just by the looseness of the uniform. Not one looked the same. The only one that carried power from this distance was another individual looking right back at him with their own glass. That's the Captain, the only thing he could discern was the mane of red hair on 'em.
He finally looked away to see if they responded to the flag. They were in the middle of raising the thing but it was a black clump till it reached the top. And then it flowed open to the wind. "Shite," was his muttered response. "Pirates!" He shouted back to his crew. They all froze for a single second to recognize the word. Then they exploded into action. He looked back to see it.
There, flying above all others. A black flag was flying. Emblazoned with a pure white screaming human skull. With bronze swords crossed beneath it's gaping maw.
O'Malley was coming straight for them. And they were flying to meet them. "Fuck..."
