Chapter Fifty-Four: A Thane's Breath
Theo Gibbons was fading in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of a gray sky and the sound of wingbeats, other times he'd blink and see his dream bedroom on Derse's moon. His mind was scattered and he couldn't quite form coherent thoughts. It felt like he was in this state for an eternity, though in reality it was for less than an hour.
When Theo finally regained full consciousness, he found himself lying on the floor of a circular stone chamber. Next to him was the creature who had rescued him from the underlings—the pale-blue-skinned pterodactyl. He was speaking to a group of five older pterodactyls, who were sitting in five stone chairs lining the opposite side of the chamber.
Theo stared, his mouth hanging open. Pterodactyls? What? What? Pterodactyls, what?
Talking pterodactyls?
WHAT?
Memories of fleeing the underlings through a bioluminescent forest came crashing back into Theo's mind, and he was nearly overwhelmed as he scrambled to his feet, taking in the sight of these giant, talking pterodactyls.
"The creature awakes," the stooped, pale-skinned elder pterodactyl sitting in the center chair observed, pointing at Theo with one of its talons. The others followed suit, all of them looking at Theo and murmuring amongst themselves. "Perhaps Gyaltsen's story will sound more plausible when it is told from the creature's perspective."
"A point well made, Tenzin-lama." the pterodactyl to the center one's left—a wiry, tan-skinned creature with piercing blue eyes—nodded in agreement. The blue-eyed pterodactyl's voice gave her away as female. She turned her gaze down to Theo. "Can you speak, creature? Have you a name?"
"Uh…" Theo fought to keep his emotions under control. This was all becoming a bit much to take in. Were these the 'consorts' Deltasprite had mentioned? The race of sentients who were supposed to inhabit this planet? Could they really be…pterodactyls? "Theo Gibbons…?" Theo stated his name, though it was more of an afterthought than anything else. "Are you guys really dinosaurs?"
The five pterodactyls sitting in the chairs all glanced at one another, continuing to speak quietly amongst themselves. They hadn't even heard Theo's dazed question. "The creature speaks our tongue," one of the others pointed out. "He is no underling. We can tell the Watch to rest easy; High Vigilance is no longer required."
"Perhaps he is no underling," the blue-eyed female pterodactyl conceded, but Theo had a gut feeling that she was about to follow that up with something slightly less favorable. "However, that does not make him a friend. He could still be in service to Typheus."
When the other three younger consorts—relative to the elder, of course—started to argue with the female, the elder in the center let out an ear-splitting screech. The screech cut through all the din and ushered in a new period of silence. "Sifu Indira calls a fair point to our attention. More scrutiny is needed before judgment can be made."
"Ask him if he's the-" Gyaltsen, the pale-blue-skinned consort, started to say, but he was cut off by the female consort.
"Silence," Indira turned her piercing glare onto Theo's young savior. "Gyaltsen-hunter, you will speak to this council only when addressed."
Gyaltsen bowed his head in apology, taking a step back. "Apologies, Sifu."
Despite being silenced by the female councilmember, Gyaltsen's request had not fallen on deaf ears. The elderly pterodactyl sitting in the center chair blinked once, leaning forward in his chair to get a closer look at Theo. "Tell me, creature…does the word 'Thane' mean anything to you?"
Theo found he was starting to get a little lightheaded, and his throat felt a bit tight. It was nothing he wasn't used to, however, so he dismissed it. He could feel the shape of his inhaler in his pocket, so if he had an emergency he was still in the clear.
As it happened, Theo did recognize the word. Yes, he knew that its worldly definition had something to do with some sort of Scottish nobility, but he'd also heard it from Deltasprite, when the Bioshock-themed spirit guide was trying to explain the game to Theo. "Yeah, uh…" Theo felt kind of awkward talking in front of strangers, and the fact that they were pterodactyls… "I was told that I'm the Thane." But that wasn't it; there had been something else attached to it… It took Theo a moment to remember, but he was still able to recall it. "The Thane of Breath."
Theo honestly had no idea what that meant. He didn't know what a Thane of Breath was; if there was something he'd been supposed to study about this game beforehand, he sure as hell hadn't had the time for it. From being swarmed by underlings to jumping through the first gate, to being hounded through the forests by entire hordes of the bloodthirsty creatures…
Thane of Breath. However little those three words meant to Theo, they seemed to mean the world to the five consorts sitting in the chairs. A collective breath was taken in and the five council members spoke among themselves once more.
"You are making quite a claim," Tenzin, the elder, said to Theo. The elder's milky-green eyes were unblinking. "Though you are making this claim from ignorance, which may lend to its truthfulness… Who told you that you are the Thane of Breath, if I may ask?"
Theo didn't even know how to begin explaining that one, so he tried to paraphrase. He tried to give the consorts the short version of what had happened to him since his arrival in the Land of Fog and Shadow. Ultimately, he ended up describing Deltasprite as the 'spirit guide' provided to him by this place.
"Sounds like a Sprite," the gray-skinned pterodactyl sitting on the far right observed. This one also seemed to be pretty advanced in age, though not quite so old as the elder. When the others turned to him, the consort gave a slight shrug with his wings. "Our records indicate that the Noble had a similar guide. If this creature is the Thane, I believe it would only make sense for him to have one as well."
"You forget that the Noble was born among us, Sifu Jamyang," Indira reminded her historically-inclined counterpart. "This creature was not. He is different."
"Calm yourself, Indira-warrior," Tenzin spoke to the fiery blue-eyed pterodactyl in a quiet, but firm tone. "Remind yourself that we are all but fragments of the Source. Compared to the omniscience of the Source, the knowledge we possess is but a lone fern in the whole of the Illuminated Forest. We cannot presume to comprehend the world when we attempt to understand it through a fragment's perspective. One must see all to understand."
"Yes, Tenzin-lama." Indira took the elder's words with grace and allowed herself to calm down. It was clear that while Indira was clearly the most strong-willed member of the council, Tenzin was still undeniably the one in charge. Theo found it interesting because the elder was not in charge through any kind of force, election, or ambition…he seemed to be in charge simply due to the acceptance of the others. As a human being from a society of other human beings, it was a kind of leadership Theo was not entirely used to.
Tenzin turned his attention back to Theo. "Ten thousand years in the past, our world was ravaged by an event our ancestors refer to as the Undying Night, though our scholars today simply call it the Cataclysm—it was a long period of time, lasting perhaps several years, when the light of the Source was extinguished and night fell over us. It was a time of great sorrow and despair—fire rained from our skies, and underlings came forth from the earth for the first time, slaughtering many of us."
"In those times, we were led by the Noble of Breath," Jamyang continued to tell the story for Theo at the behest of his elder. "The Noble was not of our own people—she was discovered as a newborn by a consort named Jinpa, who is known today merely as the Great Disciple, and brought back to the nearest village, where she was raised as one of our own. The Noble grew up to possess the most powerful Breath ever known to our people; the very winds bowed down to her. And when the Cataclysm struck, it was the Noble of Breath who led our peoples to the greatest mountains across the lands, where we could live in safety from the underling swarms that had infested the surface of our world. Thus, the Eyries came into being—this very eyrie, Whiterock, was actually the third eyrie to be established in the following-"
"Sifu Jamyang?" Indira sighed, interrupting the scholarly councilmember after clearing her throat loudly. "This is not a history lesson, nor are we your pupils. Please do not stray too far from the matter at hand."
Jamyang continued with his story, not fazed in the slightest by Indira's jab. "After leading our ancestors to the safety of what would later become our Eyries, the Noble left our world and never returned. Before she left, however, she made a prediction that another like her would arrive. She referred to him as the 'Thane of Breath'. The Thane was no Noble; when he came to us, it would be as a Hero…"
Theo found that he was having a difficult time listening to the historian's story. Without even realizing it, he'd started to have to work a little bit harder to take each successive breath, until it hit Theo that he was wheezing heavily.
Oh no, not again, Theo moaned silently to himself. As his airways closed, Theo began to sway, still hearing the sound of the talking pterodactyl-consort's voice without actually understanding the individual words. Theo tried to stay calm as he clutched at his pocket and pulled out his inhaler…
…only to feel his heart sink down to the region of his toes when he saw that he was not holding an inhaler. Instead, he was holding two halves of an inhaler. Useless broken plastic. It must have been broken when Theo had taken that blow to the head from the ogre that had bested him; he'd gone down hard.
Theo stared at the broken inhaler for a few seconds, not initially comprehending how screwed he was. Then his asthma really started to kick in. Theo's lungs burned as he began to heave. Panic started to grip him. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of air—there was so much of it around him, and in a brief moment of lucidity Theo noticed that he could actually kind of see it…flowing seamlessly around objects, moving in gentle, subtle eddies and currents… There was so much air around him, but he could not get any of it into his lungs.
Before Theo knew it, he was on the ground, lying on his back, his chest heaving desperately in its unsuccessful attempts to get more oxygen. He was conscious of the pterodactyls clustering around him, all of them asking him what was wrong, not having the faintest idea what was happening to him.
"Can't…breathe…" Theo managed to gasp, though the effort of speaking was nearly akin to that of a Herculean labor. "Lungs…broken…"
As his vision began to darken, Theo saw the consorts all step back. Thinking he was being abandoned, Theo's panic started to multiply, and he could feel himself beginning to thrash. He knew that seizures could arise during especially severe attacks, and also that his anxiety could not be helping. And, as anyone who has ever suffered through a panic attack knows, that just made his anxiety even worse, continuing the vicious cycle.
Just as he was beginning to grow incapable of rational thought, Theo was suddenly startled by a voice.
I had my suspicions that you were the promised Hero—I needed only to hear you make the claim yourself, to see the sincerity in your Breath. The voice clearly belonged to the elder Tenzin; Theo, despite the state of his thoughts, could easily recognize it. Tenzin spoke quietly and gently, but also firmly. His words filled Theo's mind, and the teenager even believed at certain moments that the elderly pterodactyl-consort was communicating telepathically.
But this was not the case—Tenzin was merely whispering straight into Theo's ear as he crouched down over the teenager, covering Theo's chest with one of his arms, as well as the membrane-like wing that it was connected to.
Theo had closed his eyes by now, focusing all his remaining energy on Tenzin's voice. His panic subsided, allowing his thoughts to settle, though the pain in his lungs did not go away, nor did the desperate need to breathe. But he had to hear Tenzin's words over those urges, otherwise…
You are the Thane of Breath, Tenzin's voice continued to speak, its words reaching out to the furthest expanses of Theo's mind. You have a Breath that is more powerful than that of any of us. The winds are within you, boy; I can sense that you have used them before, but only unconsciously. You may have known how to use your Breath to its full potential when you were but a newborn, but you have since forgotten. Come, now…
Remember.
Theo faintly felt a cold, clawed hand take hold of his chin, holding his head so that he was facing straight up and back a little bit. His head was also tilted back to ensure that any airflow introduced to his body would reach his lungs and not end up in his stomach. Then Theo felt one of the best sensations he'd felt in his entire life.
It was air, traveling down through his trachea, somehow worming its way through the constricted airways and into his lungs. And once the foreign air settled into his lungs, mingled with all the little alveoli, where the swap between oxygen and carbon dioxide took place…
The sensation sort of reminded Theo of starting an inert engine with jumper cables. The engine is dead, unable to produce any energy on its own…but when jumper cables were attached and a foreign surge of power was introduced… Similar to Theo, who had air introduced to his inert lungs.
There was something abnormal about it, however. It was not like Theo had someone breathe air into his lungs, and his asthma was suddenly cured. There was something different about this air…it felt almost alive, humming with some kind of force that it seemed to possess all on its own…
The energy belonged to Tenzin, Theo realized. Tenzin's life essence, or soul, or whatever anyone wanted to call it…it was infused in that breath of air. It hummed and vibrated in tune with Tenzin—not with his body, but with him. It was a very difficult sensation to describe…and Theo honestly had no idea how he was able to perceive it.
As Theo started to lose consciousness, he gave a start of surprise when he felt a different sensation within his lungs…a second resonance infusing itself into the air in his lungs, emerging to meet with Tenzin's own imprint. And although this resonance was sharply different from that of Tenzin's, it felt perfectly seamless and natural. Very familiar.
It was Theo's own resonance. Within an instant, it subsumed the energy in the breath of air left by Tenzin, surging forward to take its place, almost like a fire racing across the surface of a puddle of gasoline. And now that it had been awakened, the energy was restless. It did not like being confined to the space of Theo's lungs—it wanted to leave.
Theo's blue eyes snapped back open as he flew up into a sitting position, exhaling that breath of air. It felt so good to exhale… The breath felt almost explosive as it was released. Theo then breathed in one of the deepest breaths he'd ever taken, relishing the soothing flow of oxygen as it traveled in and out of his lungs, unhindered by the asthma that had crippled them since Theo was born.
Theo was breathing again.
Still not quite able to believe what had happened, Theo slowly picked himself back up onto his feet, helped by Gyaltsen, still taking in deep breaths, trying to lower his heart rate. He got his bearings back and looked around himself, noticing the six consorts that shared the room with him. They had all stepped back. The chairs had all been overturned, and the chamber was in a general state of disarray—when Theo had exhaled, he'd released an almost gale-force wind from his mouth, wreaking havoc within the circular chamber.
There were shouts outside, and the chamber's thick, oaken double doors were thrown open, allowing five more pterodactyls to swoop in, spears at the ready.
The leader of the guards was a stocky pterodactyl with pale red skin, giant wings, heavily-muscled arms and legs, as well as large violet eyes. Unlike his spear-bearing subordinates, the consort in charge of the guards wielded a simple shortsword in each hand. He took in the sight of the chamber and immediately leveled his blades at Theo. But, also sensing that the five councilmembers were unhurt, he did not attack. "We heard a disturbance outside," the consort in charge of the guards growled as his four subordinates fanned out, securing the chamber as per his orders.
"Everything is fine, Chodak-warrior," Tenzin assured the guards, holding up a hand to quell any protestations that he expected to arise from the guard captain. "Your presence and timeliness is well-received; though, in this particular case, unnecessary. You may retire to the entrance."
"Lama." Chodak sheathed his swords and bowed to the pale-skinned elder, referring to him by his honorific. He then bowed to the rest of the councilmembers and left the circular chamber, followed closely by his four men.
With that taken care of, the councilmembers all set about cleaning up the room, getting their chairs back upright; placing the candleholders back into the walls, and then the candles back into their holders.
There was a very different mood, a very different energy in the room, right now. Before, it had been a mixture of curiosity and hostility—Theo was an alien to the consorts, and while coming across an outsider would provoke feelings of curiosity…it would also make people wary. Some, like Indira, even viewed Theo as a possible threat before coming to any other conclusion.
Now, though, the mood had changed…the curiosity was still there, but the hostility was completely gone. The curiosity was still there, almost giving the air in the room its own charge, smelling faintly of ozone. The hot, dry hostility was gone, thankfully, replaced by traces of the off-putting odor of skepticism. But there was something else, too…another charge in the air. While the charge of curiosity emanating from the six consorts seemed to fill the entire room with its questioning energy, there was something else there, too… This resonance seemed to flow upward, rather than outward; an invigorating, humming flow of…what was it?
Hope, Theo realized. He could sense a subtle sense of hope in the air.
Wait… Theo frowned, shaking his head once. How could he know this? How could he tell what the other consorts were feeling? It was almost like their emotions distorted the space around them, projecting their own unique energy into the molecules of the air. And Theo could perceive those distortions, processing them in his brain as emotions, and-
Theo shook his head again, this time raising two fingers to massage an ache that had just sprung up around his temples. How was he learning all this new stuff? It was like someone was planting thoughts into his mind… Or maybe it was all him. His mind trying to help explain to him what was happening as dormant parts of his essence were unlocked, as a result of Tenzin's little 'jump start' resuscitation.
Now that he was thinking directly about it, however, Theo found that he could no longer sense the mood of the room. Strange…
"Is something troubling you?" Tenzin's question was enough to bring Theo fully back to his senses.
Theo was still in a slight state of shock from his recent attack, prone to having his mind wander. He focused back on Tenzin. While the others straightened up the circular council chamber, the elder stood unmoving in the middle of it all, observing Theo intently with his milky-green-eyed gaze. When he saw that Theo had heard his question, the elder went on.
"Did you feel anything strange?" Tenzin asked Theo. "A feeling in the air? Any strange smells or tastes?"
Theo blinked several times, initially hesitant to answer. But Tenzin clearly knew what Theo had just experienced, and Theo was too fascinated by that experience to not try and find out everything he possibly could about it. And besides, the pale-skinned pterodactyl elder seemed to have his best interests at heart—a slight understatement, considering how Tenzin had just saved Theo's life.
Theo described to Tenzin what he'd felt, how he had been able to perceive the others' emotions for those few moments. It hadn't been through any one of his senses that he'd sensed the emotions; always a mixture—some emotions had a distinct feel or temperature to them, others he perceived more as a sound…some emotions, even, had been experienced by Theo primarily as a certain taste on the air.
Tenzin listened to Theo, his expression not changing. The other councilmembers got their chairs back in order, but they did not retake their seats while Tenzin was still standing. After hearing Theo's explanation, the elder conversed with his four fellow councilmembers for a quick moment. Then everyone's attention was turned back to Theo.
Gyaltsen, the young consort who'd rescued Theo, shuffled off to the side a little bit, feeling a little awkward being close to the center of attention without actually being the one under scrutiny.
"You have just described Empathy Breathing, which is one of the more advanced forms of the Breath," Tenzin explained to Theo, his voice now even more quiet with reverence.
"Our people are the only ones capable of using their Breath in this manner," the scholarly consort, Sifu Jamyang, chimed in, supporting the elder's statement. "The Noble of Breath was the only outsider ever to do so. It would make sense for her successor to be likewise gifted."
Indira, who had been watching her fellow councilmembers seriously discuss the possibility of Theo being the Thane of Breath, let out a short screech, restoring the silence. While she was no longer openly hostile to Theo's presence, she clearly did not trust him yet. However, Indira was also wise enough to allow room in her perceptions for her mistrust to be potentially won over. She was still willing to give Theo a chance.
"Perhaps he does not serve Typheus, and perhaps he can use the gift of his Breath… But he is not one of us. Not yet," Indira added. When Tenzin gave her a single nod, she continued. "This creature claims to be the Thane? I am still unconvinced. It's one thing to restart a creature's Breath; such things are instinctual in nature. It is quite another thing, however, for that creature to be able to use its own Breath."
"What do you propose, Sifu Indira?" Sifu Jamyang asked the fiery female councilmember. He already knew the answer, but he wanted Indira to state it verbally so there could be no doubt or confusion.
"You already know what I propose," she replied, turning her attention to the rest of the councilmembers. "I do not believe this creature is the Thane. However, I am not so limited in my perceptions as to believe that my beliefs are infallible. Therefore, I wish to give the outsider a chance to prove me wrong—and I truly hope he does. Tenzin-lama, I will defer to your wisdom, as always, but I believe the creature should undergo the Second Birth."
This time, there was no murmuring from the five older pterodactyl-consorts. The five councilmembers all shared a glance, and the others all silently approved of Indira's proposal. The only verbal reaction came from Gyaltsen, who swore very quietly under his breath. Theo was the only one able to hear him, and it didn't give him a warm fuzzy feeling.
"It is decided." Tenzin gave a final nod, returning to his chair. The other four councilmembers followed suit. "I am inclined to believe your claim," he said to Theo, who instinctively knew that whatever came next would start with a 'but…'. "But it is no small matter to claim to be such an important figure of our mythology. You will undergo the Second Birth tomorrow morning. If you survive, then your claim will be cemented."
"Wait a sec, hold up!" Theo held up his hands, stepping forward. By now, after the shock of finding himself among talking pterodactyls, and then just barely surviving the asthma attack…Theo's mind was all burned out. And so, it stopped trying to fully comprehend everything that was happening; now, Theo's mind simply started to process what was happening here and now, taking things one moment at a time. "What's this second birth thing?"
"It is a trial that we all must pass when we are children," Tenzin replied. "To survive is to be accepted as a full member of our people; a child no longer."
"And to die is an equal blessing," Sifu Indira built off of what the elder was saying, though in a different direction. "Any who do not survive the Second Birth would not last very long in this world as adults. This will hold true for you, as well; for if you are truly the Thane, then the Second Birth is a trial you can pass. If you are not, however…" Indira did not finish her thought, nor did she need to.
Theo got the message.
When Tenzin spoke next, it was to the young consort who'd brought Theo in. Apart from his minor interruption, earlier, the bluish-skinned pterodactyl-consort had kept quiet, moving as far off to the side as possible. Now, at Tenzin's call, he straightened up and hopped over to where Theo was standing, awaiting instructions.
"Gyaltsen-hunter, you may escort the outsider to one of our guest quarters," Tenzin said to the younger pterodactyl. As Gyaltsen bowed his head and started to lead Theo back towards the entrance doors, the pale-skinned elder was quick to add, "The outsider obviously cannot fly there, so do help him as much as you can."
As he was led outside through the oaken double doors onto a ledge overlooking most of the northern half of the mountaintop where the consorts lived, Theo could not help but feel a small amount of unease for what lay ahead.
How far in over his head had he just gotten himself?
Gwen Twymann gripped the rail as the ship crested over a wave.
She braced herself as the Viridian Wind plunged back down into the following trough…only to begin climbing up the face of the next wave. This cycle had been repeating itself countless times. Some people were bored by the endless, monotonous rolling of a ship as it passed through waves. Other people were sickened to their stomachs by it. But Gwen?
Gwen loved every moment of it.
Her enjoyment came out of the blue, as far as Gwen was concerned. She'd never been sailing in her life—Grafton Twymann, Gwen's grandfather as well as the man who'd raised her from infancy, had always harbored a deep-seated hatred of boats. Gwen never found out why her Gramps hated boats so much—she'd only asked him once; he'd given her a very stern glare and told her not to ask him that question again.
Every time Gwen had asked her Gramps about his childhood, she'd gotten a more or less identical response, so she had not pressed the issue. As a result, the furthest into the ocean Gwen had ever gotten was just far enough off the beach to ride the breakers.
And so, the fact that she was enjoying sailing so much right now came off as a pleasant surprise.
Dozens of turtle-consorts made their way across the deck, going about completing their usual tasks. Some of them climbed into the rigging to take in or let out the sails, depending on their orders. Others carried buckets of water and stone scrubbing blocks, cleaning the surface of the deck, which was almost always in a constant state of varying degrees of grime.
Gwen took in a deep breath through her nose, savoring the salty smell of the sea spray as it showered across the decks, the feeling of the wind on her face.
This was Gwen's third day aboard the Viridian Wind, and she was having a much better time than she'd initially feared upon finding out that it was currently crewed by pirates. After being rescued from the solitary island where Gwen's first gate had dumped her, she'd been shown around the ship by its first mate, Aristophanes; she was introduced to the Captain for a few brief minutes, and then she was given a general rundown from Aristophanes as to how the ship functioned.
It was a very interesting learning experience for Gwen; both for the knowledge of sailing and how a sailing vessel is properly maintained, but also for the insight into the crew of a pirate ship—which was what the Viridian Wind was, essentially, being stolen and currently crewed by corsairs. Sure, the corsairs were dirty, they were foul-mouthed, they lacked manners or any sort of grace…but they were excellent sailors.
There was never a job left unfinished or forgotten. Aristophanes later explained to Gwen that this was because the penalty for a sailor not completing his tasks was a week's confinement in the brig, which was located on the same deck as the cargo hold—just below the third gun deck and above the bilges at the bottom of the ship. The unfortunate sailor would receive no food, and only a single ration of drinking water every other day. He would also not be granted a piss bucket, so his bathroom would be the floor of his cell. If he didn't die of some disease or infection from the conditions of such a punishment, the sailor would then rejoin his comrades above.
Repeat offenders would have their arms broken and then be tossed overboard. There were other ships where the condemned sailor would be thrown overboard while tied to a cannonball, but the captain of the Viridian Wind obviously did not consider executions important enough to waste his cannons' ammunition in order to carry it out. Better to break the arms and be done with it.
And, of course, that depended solely on what mood the captain was in. Just because it was a first-time offence did not mean the offender was automatically destined for the brig. Aristophanes had mused to Gwen of a time four years ago, the day after the Viridian Wind had been defeated in a failed raid—the ship that was to be their prey had appeared to be an ordinary trading vessel, but had actually been a disguised warship from the Fleet.
Already in a black mood from his earlier defeat, the captain witnessed a crewmember tasked with taking in the mainsail who was slacking off on his work, securing the vast sheet of green-dyed cloth to the spar of the mainmast with haphazard, sloppy knots, not even bothering to check them after he tied them. That particular sailor had been known for his laziness, though he had yet to make a mistake large enough to catch anyone's attention. The captain had waited patiently for the incompetent sailor to climb back down to the deck, at which point he shot the crewmember where he stood…and then calmly stowed his pistol and continued going about his business, as if nothing had happened.
The sailors had gotten the message, and there had not been a single execution since. While the captain was tough on his men, he was not unfair, nor was he a sadist. Sometimes his punishments could be excessive, but they were only inflicted where they were due. It would be wrong to say that his men loved him, but also wrong to claim that he was hated.
Gwen happened to have some skill with a guitar—not nearly as much as Tami, but Gwen was still pretty good in her own right—and this ended up working heavily in her favor. During her first dinner belowdecks with the rowdy crew of turtle-consort corsairs, she'd taken someone's lute and ended up playing a few of the faster-paced songs she knew. And the corsairs had loved it—many of them drank themselves into stupors by the end of the night.
Gwen considered herself lucky that she was not a female turtle-consort; none of the crewmembers had attempted to make advances towards her. To them, after all, she was an alien. But, alien or not, Gwen was easily one of the more popular people on the ship by the end of that first night.
Gwen was not entirely sure where the Viridian Wind was headed, but after spending over a day marooned on an island with no means of escape…she was content to go wherever the winds carried her. She'd be keeping her eyes open, however, for anything resembling a return node. She knew that she'd have to eventually locate and make her way back to her house in order to continue playing through this game session. But until she could find a plausible way to do that, she might as well enjoy the weather and the sailing.
By her second day on the Viridian Wind, which had been yesterday, Gwen had woken before sunrise alongside many of the corsairs. She tagged along with the ship's bosun—an aging turtle-consort named Nothon, who had a heavily weathered and wrinkled face from years of being at sea, a permanent scowl, small black eyes, and a large shell that was light gray with old age. He was covered in his fair share of scars, and the last two fingers on his left hand were missing. His posture, on the other hand, was immaculate. Despite his advanced age and perceived physical weakness, Nothon was a force of nature when it came to maintaining the fragile discipline of the Viridian Wind's corsair crew.
Nothon took Gwen up into the rigging that morning to teach her how to properly tie the knots used by sailors to secure the ropes, as well as the sails. Recalling Aristophanes's story of the lazy corsair who had botched his knots, Gwen made sure she had the knots absolutely mastered by late morning. When the wind strengthened around noontime and Aristophanes gave the order to take in several of the smaller sails, Gwen went up into the rigging with the corsairs and helped them secure the sails to their respective resting positions, applying her newly-learned skills.
After trimming the sails successfully, the ship's bosun decided to take Gwen below to the gun decks. The Viridian Wind had three gun decks, each loaded with roughly forty cannon—twenty on each side. Many of the corsairs above who were stuck with menial tasks, like emptying the latrine buckets or scrubbing the decks, were actually members of the ship's sizable gun crew—they were relegated to menial, ship-wide labor when the Wind was not engaged in battle. Even so, a minimal crew was always maintained by the most seasoned veterans, as well as Tycho, the Master Gunner, whom Nothon introduced Gwen to.
The Master Gunner was another aging consort, his age given away by his raspy voice, his stooped posture, and the heavily-grayed color of his shell, which had been a vibrant reddish-orange hue in his youth. He wore an oily black coat, as well as an eyepatch. If Gwen had to wager a guess, it was that the Master Gunner was a bit older than Nothon, but not by much. Three or five years, maybe.
When Nothon took Gwen belowdecks, they arrived on the first gun deck in time to see Tycho directing a large group of young gunner's mates. The younger consorts were opening the barrels of gunpowder and sifting them, which would keep the gunpowder dry and prevent it from separating. Other gunner's mates were hard at work inspecting the cannon ammunition, making sure none of the cannonballs were falling victim to rust.
Many of them were grumbling, but the complaints were quiet and subdued, not truly meant to leave the personal space of the ones uttering them. The Master Gunner could clearly hear his men grumbling—he'd have to be deaf not to—but he did not react to it. He did not care if they complained, so long as they did their tasks well…which they all did. None of them wanted to spend a week in the brig, or end up looking down the barrel of the captain's pistol.
The gun decks were dimly lit by lamps and whatever daylight managed to seep in from above, though there were more lamps to be lit during the night hours. The air was stuffy and hot belowdecks, and there were dozens of empty hammocks hanging from the ceiling—this was obviously where the crew slept.
At the bosun's behest, the Master Gunner showed Gwen several of the cannon, explaining how they were maintained and cleaned, and then having several of his subordinate crewmen demonstrate how to properly load, fire, and reload them. The cannon portholes were closed at the moment, so Tycho did not actually fire any of the cannon.
Gwen had helped out with the sails several more times yesterday before having the evening meal with the crew and retiring, going to sleep in an unused hammock. And here she was now… Day Three. The wind had kept relatively constant, not requiring any adjustment of the sails for the Viridian Wind to continue holding her current course.
Gwen glanced up to the western sky, watching as Skaia started to sink down towards the horizon. The light from Skaia as it set was caught by all the floating prism rocks and dispersed across the sky in all the colors of the rainbow. The ocean seemed to shine an even more vibrant shade of green in the presence of all the distorted light, appearing brighter even as the daylight in the orange sky started to fade.
Before long, Nothon called for the corsairs assigned to the nighttime watch to assume their positions. One of the turtle-consorts on the nighttime watch scaled the mainmast all the way up to the crow's nest, swapping places with the sentry who had been on watch before him. The bosun then ordered everyone else belowdecks for their evening meal.
Before she could follow the corsairs below, however, Gwen was stopped by Aristophanes. The one-eyed first mate caught her by the arm, getting her attention. "Come, Witch. The captain has invited you to dinner in his cabin."
"Uh…" Gwen glanced towards the stern of the ship, looking at the captain's cabin. "I don't suppose he's 'asking' me?"
"He certainly is not." Aristophanes led Gwen up the deck towards the captain's cabin. "Come; the crew are a lively bunch during dinner, but the captain eats well."
Gwen remained silent as Aristophanes opened the door to the cabin, allowing her inside. The interior of the cabin actually had a comfortable feel to it—there were no rugs, couches, or pillows, obviously; but the bed tucked away in the back, along with the captain's mahogany desk and the rectangular table that was piled with food…this was the closest Gwen would ever feel to home while on a ship.
The food especially reminded her of her Gramps, who for dinners would always make too much food for him and Gwen to eat. Whatever they did not finish, they would eat later as leftovers. Gramps had never thrown away the surplus—he'd always been very sensitive to wasting food, almost to the point where Gwen wondered if he'd been starved as a kid.
She never bothered asking, already knowing what her Gramps's response would be.
The captain of the Viridian Wind was sitting at one end of the table. He was a bit shorter than Aristophanes, and perhaps a couple years younger. His eyes were a bright yellow-orange in color, matching the hue of his shell. He wore a black coat, leather belt, and heavy boots similar to those of his first mate. Instead of wearing a skullcap like Aristophanes, however, the captain wore a rumpled three-cornered hat.
The captain rose to his feet as Gwen was escorted inside, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a slight smile. "You like her?" the consort asked. When the only reply he received from Gwen was a blank face, he clarified himself. "My ship. You like my ship?"
"It's, uh…" Gwen took a moment to search for the right words. She got the feeling that this consort wasn't a person she'd want to piss off. "She's a really good ship. One of the best I've been on." It was the only ship Gwen had ever been on, so technically she wasn't lying.
The captain gave a slow nod while Aristophanes took a seat next to him, on one of the long sides of the table. "I've watched these past three days as you've integrated yourself into my crew. The boys enjoy you quite a bit! I've never seen anyone get the hang of sea life so quickly."
All Gwen could do as she took her own seat was shrug, reaching for something that looked like a giant turkey leg and plopping it down onto her wooden plate. Her stomach growled with anticipation—she had not eaten in a little while. "I've always learned fast. Can't really explain it."
"Well, perhaps I can." the captain leaned forward as Gwen and Aristophanes started to eat, steepling his fingers. "You claimed to be the Witch of Light, no? Or is Aristophanes lying to me?"
Aristophanes gave a snort of amusement as he devoured a turkey leg of his own.
"No, he's not lying; I am the Witch of Light," Gwen said that with more confidence than she had in the past. "Apparently that's some kind of big deal."
"You're right. It is a big deal," the ship's captain affirmed, giving a single nod. "Tell me this…why you? Why are you the Witch? And why have you chosen to come to us now, and not a thousand years ago? I would have answers."
Gwen paused in her efforts to demolish the turkey leg, taking a moment to wipe her mouth. "What, you think I chose this? You think I chose to be the Witch? I didn't choose jack shit—I end up on an island in the middle of the ocean with my grandfather, who's become my spirit guide, and he tells me that I'm the Witch of Light, sends me on my way, and I end up on another island in the middle of the ocean, where you guys found me. End of story."
"Spirit guide…" The captain grew thoughtful. "Do you mean to say that your grandfather became your Sprite? And your presence on that island was a result of your passing through the first gate?"
Gwen was actually startled by the turtle-consort's question. Ever since beginning the shitstorm that this game had turned out to be, Gwen had been overwhelmed by all the knowledge Grampsprite had tried to impart to her, all the crazy shit she had to survive and work her way past, and now… Now, here she was on a ship full of corsair turtles, whose captain was now asking her directly about the game.
Maybe she was not going insane.
"How do you know that?" Gwen had to ask.
"We are all followers of the Light Aspect," Aristophanes answered that one for his captain. "Light is knowledge. There are many things that we know of this world, as well as the incipisphere it exists in."
"But Light is also fortune," the captain went on. "Fortune and Knowledge…both different sides of the same coin. While most of us can only follow one of these paths, it is said that the Witch of Light would be able to command both. Your coming was foretold by the Noble of Light, ten thousand years ago, and we have been waiting ever since. So, yes: being the Witch of Light is a 'big deal', as you so eloquently put it."
"Well sorry for the ignorance, but I'm kind of figuring things out as I go along," Gwen murmured. "A lot's been happening these past few days."
"Then there is much that you must learn," the captain of the Viridian Wind replied, finally taking a turkey leg for himself and getting ready to eat. He never took his gaze off Gwen, however. After taking his first bite and swallowing, the captain cleared his throat and asked Gwen another question. "Tell me, Witch…what do you know of the Library of All?"
Before Gwen could give the question any thought, her thought process was suddenly interrupted by a series of four loud bell tolls in rapid succession. There was a slight pause, and then a second set of four bells rang out. Gwen could hear corsairs shouting on the deck outside.
The captain and his first mate were already rising from their chairs, securing their weapons belts to their waists and donning their respective hats. They looked like they were gearing up for a fight.
"What were those bells?" Gwen asked the two older consorts. "What's going on? Are we getting chased by the Fleet, or whatever you called it?"
"No, not the Fleet," Aristophanes explained as he straightened his skullcap and strode over towards the doors leading outside. "Four rapid bells mean Marauders. Two sets of four mean two Marauder ships. We're in for a wee bit of a fight."
"Marauders?" Gwen got up from her seat, instinctively retrieving her Walther PPK from her strife specibus. "But…but you guys are corsairs—aren't you supposed to be the marauders?"
"Skaia's Light, no," Aristophanes chuckled in response as he opened the doors, allowing the captain to stride through onto deck, where he immediately began taking control of the situation. The first mate beckoned for Gwen to step through the doors before him. "We Corsairs and the Fleetsmen are not the only force on the seas, regrettably…the Marauders are the worst sort to run into. They never leave survivors…and the dead they leave in their wake are never whole or unspoiled, if you catch my meaning."
"Okay…why are these guys so crazy, then? What's their deal?"
Aristophanes fixed Gwen with his stormy gray, one-eyed gaze, still somewhat surprised at her ignorance. "The Marauders are underlings, Witch. Underlings who have taken to the high seas. I'd keep your firearm close; you will need it, soon."