The Man Called Athair

"How's your back, Lawrence?"

Flora rolled her shoulders, trying not to flinch as she did. "It's alright now."

"Good, good…" Milo nodded, a curious glint in his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want the doctor to take a look?" He peeked under his cup, "Three-twos."

The cabin boy's heart quickened. "No, sir. It's healing well." She peeked under her cup as well. "Four-twos."

"Very well, if you say so" said Milo, almost smugly. "Six-twos."

Flora bit her lip, "Liar."

Three days have passed since the storm, three days since Flora's punishment for her mistake. The girl scrunched at the memory. She had been so focused on amending her blunder and hiding her identity that she'd nearly forgotten her other secret. The one her adopted grandfather had tried to hide all her life. The blood…

It wasn't until dark spots began to stain her shirt and jerkin after the lashing did she recall that cursed fact, and nearly swore out loud. When the penalty was done, she'd grabbed her overcoat and bolted below decks before anyone could call for the naval surgeon, spending a majority of the day mending her attire and tending to the slices across her back herself. She even resorted to using seawater, as the figure had in her dream.

Why am I like this…she constantly asked as she applied the water to her back the best she could, How is this possible?

It was another wedge between her and the crew. Between the black blood and seawater healing instead of hurting, it was another reminder of how different she was…

Who am I…?

To her great relief, no one seemed to notice her sudden disappearance or secret blood when she returned on deck. Everyone had gone back to work, either repairing any damages the Glory had taken, or tending to those injured from the storm.

Everyone except for Milo, that is. He'd been standing in the same position where he'd given the penalty, watching Flora with an expression that turned her insides cold.

He knows, she'd thought in horror, He's seen something!

The first mate kept a closer eye on her ever since, sometimes appearing from nowhere when she least expected it, asking questions that made her legs buckle.

What did he see?! She'd desperately wanted to ask, but was afraid of her own words. There's no telling what would happen if Milo learned the truth, any truth for that matter, and so she shrugged off his constant meddling and questions, hiding behind more lies and tasks to the best of her ability.

Her avoidance worked for a while, until now during a day of good wind and weather when he challenged her to a match of Liar's Dice, a 'game of deception' some called it. Flora had never played the game before, but she heard it was a good way to pass the time on days such as these, when the crew was not needed much on deck. She was willing to play, at least until Milo announced the wager: information. Personal information.

Bollocks! She'd clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white, ready abandon the challenge when she stopped herself at the last second. How many times had she run off in Milo's presence already? If she ran away now, not only would it make her look like a coward, but it would make the first mate more suspicious as well.

Besides, Flora suddenly realized, if I win any games, I could turn the tables on him instead!

Milo was a strange one, letting out bountiful amounts of pompous laughter one moment, and wearing a humorless, haunted grimace the next. Aside from his own genuine love for the sea, no one on the ship knew much about him, not even the Captain. I can change that here.

So Flora accepted the wager and eagerly sat down to play her first match of Liar's Dice. Now, after calling Milo out as a liar, both players lifted their cups and examined each of their die.

Flora's heart sank. She'd lost.

"You can't expect to win the first time, lad!" Milo laughed triumphantly while Flora slumped deep into her seat in sheer defeat. "Now straighten up! Tell me about yourself!"

I cannot let him know…Flora's inner voice was unsteady. I can't…

No one could know…and yet she was so sick of the lies. She had to tell him something now that she's lost the game, but what? What could she possibly tell him? She twiddled her fingers, her mind staggering for any half-truths to tell.

"Come on boy, speak up!"

There! There's one she could tell! The thought of it made her sick, but it was all she had…"The pirates that day," Flora began, slowly. "Ye' recall why I wanted to fight...?"

Milo's triumphant demeanor dissolved. "Yes, I remember. The Captain wanted to give you an extra three lashes for that." He narrowed his eyes, "You said those pirates killed your grandpapi?"

Flora nodded, "They-they did…" She fiddled with the dice on the table, her eyes glazing over as she blended lies with the truth. "My father…he's not the only reason I wanted to become a sailor. I want to fight those pirates, fight them all, to avenge my grandpa!"

"Ahh, I see lad. I see…" Milo's expression softened, whatever devious scheme he had in mind forgotten. "I'm sorry to hear that, but you know…" He picked up one of his own dice and fixated on it. "It not be my place to say this Lawrence, but vengeance is not a pretty path to follow. You may end up hurting yourself more than the ones you're after…"

Flora clenched the die in her hand and glowered. She didn't want to hear this right now. "I've made up my mind, sir." Her eyes flashed menacingly, "I will have it no other way."

Milo stiffened. Something about Flora's expression made him uneasy. "Alright, just telling ya." He turned towards the main deck. Some of the crew members had grown bored of lying about, and were drawing their swords to spar. He glanced back at Flora. She'd noticed the crew mates as well; her hand was grazing the hilt of her own sword. "Hmm…" The first mate pondered, "Speaking of fighting, do you have any idea how to use that?"

The cabin boy paused, and whatever anger she held was washed away by shame. "No I…I don't sir."

"Draw it out. Let me see how well you are with your stance at least." The girl blinked at the first mate, wondering if she heard him correctly. "Go on," He encouraged, "Let me see!"

Flora's heart leapt. She'd never wielded a sword before, much less her grandfather's! What would it be like? Would she feel any different wielding it? Stronger? Weaker? I'll find out soon enough.

The girl stood up and grasped the hilt of the sword, feeling precarious as she did. She exhaled a few breaths to calm herself, and then drew the sword from its scabbard.

"Well well, what have we here…?" Milo sat up from his seat to get a better look at the blade. It was a long sword with gold leaf painted into the handle. A fancy beauty indeed, something fit for the Royal Navy, but it was clearly too heavy for the cabin boy. His legs were shaking, and he was gripping the handle with two hands just to keep it steady. Milo smirked. It was one matter to carry a sheathed sword by the belt, but wielding an unsheathed sword by your hands was another one entirely. "Where'd you steal this from, lad?"

Flora went pale. "I didn'-I didn't steal it!"

"Relax, only joking with you!" He laughed again, and Flora wanted to punch the cheeky grin off his face. "It's your grandpapi's I assume?"

The cabin boy grumbled, solemnly, and nodded.

"He may have had good intentions, but it's an ill fit for you, lad. Your stance is all wrong too." He watched Flora grow pale again, and quickly added: "However, you may still be able to use it with the proper amount of time and training."

"Training…" Her expression brightened back up. Of course! How was she ever going to fight if she didn't know how? She peered up at Milo, eagerly. "Can you teach me then?"

The cheekiness returned. "No can do, lad."

"Wha-?" Flora's jaw slacked. "But why?!"

"I've already told you, Lawrence, vengeance isn't a pretty path." The first mate answered as he took his seat again, "I wouldn't want you learning swordplay just for that."

Flora scowled. "And what if I wanted to learn to defend myself?"

"I would still say no."

Hypocrite! The girl nearly bellowed, but growled instead, "Fine then." She carefully slid the sword back into its scabbard, "I'll ask them to teach me instead!"

She pointed at the two sparring crew mates, and Milo shook his head. "I doubt anyone here will be willing to teach you, lad. Not all of us are true fighters, and we're more focused on delivering the cargo and getting paid before its due. None of us have the time or patience for you." He tapped the table. "Come on, a few more rounds, shall we? If you win, I'll tell you a few somethings that might cheer you up!"

Flora was appalled. She had to learn to fight, whither it was for her personal vendetta or not! If she was going to live and survive by the sea then she had to be ready for anything, and that included swordplay!

"It's not fair…" She griped as she took her seat, not caring if she sounded petty or rude.

"The world is unfair, Lawrence," Milo affirmed. "You'll get your chance one day, I'm sure. It's just not here." He rolled the dice back into his cup, "Let's start then, come on!"

Flora sighed heavily as she placed the remaining dice into her own cup. "Very well…" The two players each rolled the die and started the game anew. For three more rounds they played, and unfortunately for the riled flower, she lost each and every one of them.

Another thing I should to learn for the future, the girl thought sourly as she tried to assemble more half-truths to tell the grinning first mate in front of her…

The winds were favorable for the remainder of the day. According to the Captain, if the winds continued like this they should arrive at the East India Trading Company's outpost in Africa within the next few days. It wasn't common for a vessel to cross the Atlantic so quickly, but it was not uncommon either. Many sailors cheered upon hearing this, Flora included. However, though she was happy to be stepping on land-distant land that she had never set foot on before-after two weeks at sea, a part of her was reluctant to leave, even if it was only for unloading cargo.

"Two weeks…" She said to Stephen, who was perched atop her hammock, as she got ready for bed that night. "Two weeks, yet it's already felt like years..." She flinched when a wrong move caused her lash wounds to sting. "To be truthful, I'm not sure I want to step on land again so soon…"

But you'll have to, said her inner self. You can't run on sea legs forever, and you need to find a teacher!

Flora sighed and, with its permission, placed Stephen on the side before lying down on the hammock. "'The world is unfair', that is what the first mate said." She took a gander around the hold, making sure Milo wasn't watching from the shadows. "I've already caught a glimpse of that, I imagine…"

Stephen glared at Flora's statement and pinched its claws. "But I have to learn to fight! To survive, whatever the cost!" The girl continued, taking no notice of the crab's attitude. "For grandpa, for the settlement, and for….myself." She groaned at the sentence and lowered her head. Despite the use of determined words, her tone was one of defeat. "… I doubt there are any willing teachers in Africa, though…" The girl closed her eyes as a number of sailors started trudging inside, ready to turn in for the night. "…I will find a way, Stephen, I promise that. I will learn how to fight. I'll teach meself if I have to…"

Flora held onto her locket, and tucked herself in to sleep. As the lanterns were doused for the night, the crab called Stephen watched over the cabin boy with annoyed yet thoughtful eyes that appeared to glow eerily within the darkness…

When she saw the flame, she thought they had come again. The nightmares that leapt out at her undefended mind whenever she closed her eyes. The nightmares, the memories of Jolly Roger, the burning settlement, and her grandfather's sacrifice have occurred so often now, she was surprised she wasn't used to them.

"I'm ready." Flora dared the nightmares to come, ready to endure the scalding heat of the fire and ash, the icy sting of the sword, and the unholy screams of the dying once more.

Only they did not come. Instead, the flame that came into focus was that of a single candle. A candle on the side of a long dark hallway that resembled the bulkheads of a ship.

Flora stumbled backward, her eyes gaping and confused. She certainly wasn't expecting this. What-what is this…? Where am I?

Wind suddenly whistled down the corridor, a wind that carried the salty scent of the sea, along with….something else. A voice.

The girl stood still as the wind flowed through her body, mind and soul like the melody of her locket, and then peered eagerly down the hallway. There was something at the end of the passage, something waiting, calling for her...

She hesitated, eyes narrowed, and muscles tense. She shouldn't go, not unless she was prepared in case this was a trap.

Yet despite the possibility, she found she could not resist the call...

That voice. It sounds familiar…could it-could it be…?

Slow and steady, Flora picked the candle up from the wall and started trekking down the corridor. There were strange markings on the walls, but whenever Flora raised the candle to look at them, they blurred and faded away as if they never were. She furrowed her brows. What do they mean? Let me see…!

SPLASH!

The girl went rigid, and swiftly looked down. She was standing within a flooded cargo hold now, no different from the Glory when it took on water during the storm. Flora's heart lurched, but before she could question what just happened, the putrid odor of rotten sea life rushed in, dousing the candle flame and consuming the corridor like tainted mist.

Flora gagged and dropped the candle when she unwittingly inhaled the rancid scent. She leaned against a nearby post, heaving and covering her mouth as she fought to keep herself from vomiting. This-it's only a dream! Her mind, foggy from the stench, wheezed. It has to be…!

And yet everything looked and felt so real! In fact it was no different from-

The wind came again, beckoning her forward. Flora coughed a few times and clutched her throat before looking ahead. There was a light up ahead, a light casting an ominous glow across the now darkened structure. The cabin boy inhaled a few queasy breaths, and started wading through the water. The murals she'd seen before were gone. In their place, countless barnacles, mussels, anemones, clams, seaweed, all manner of aquatic flora and fauna flourished, and those few areas that were not affected were either stained a decayed green, splintered beyond repair, or made of something that eerily resembled human bones.

Flora swallowed as her heart beat faster, her blood running colder with each anxious beat. What kind of vessel was this? Where on Earth was she?

Even when the girl reached a stairway and climbed out of the half-submerged hold, she only gained more questions than answers.

She was standing on the main deck of a massive ship-either a galleon or fluyt as it was bigger, much bigger, than the Glory-in the midst of a hazy orange sunset. The sea life she'd witnessed in the cargo hold now thrived wherever she looked. Even the mighty sails, too many to count from where she stood, appeared to be made of tattered seaweed.

Flora's legs nearly gave out. The seaweed sails looked identical to that of Jolly Roger's ilk! Is that where she was? Aboard one of his cursed vessels? Why!? Why would the call guide her here?!

Flora whirled about, her throat running dry as she expected the undead to crawl out of the shadows at any moment. She went to draw her sword and lead dropped down her gullet.

It was gone!

Cursing, gasping, Flora scrambled about, searching desperately for her grandfather's final gift when she heard it.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

All the warmth drained from her body. Something was coming, and with each step it took a crackling shudder echoed throughout the ship, and the surrounding mussels and clams clamped shut out of fear.

THUNK. THUNK.

There was no way out. Everywhere Flora looked there was only the vessel, the sun, and the surrounding sea. There weren't even any crates or barrels to hide in, she was trapped!

I am no coward! She dug her fingernails into her palms until they bled, summoning as much willpower as she could to stay put. Whatever comes forth, I will face it! Even without my sword!

Grinding her teeth, Flora swiveled toward what she assumed to be the captain's quarters, where the dreaded footsteps were coming from.

THUNK.

She waited…and then-

"Master Milo was correct in his assumptions-ah."

Flora jumped with a pitiful yelp. She would have fallen head-first into a pile of barnacles had someone not grabbed her coat from behind.

"The world is unfair. By means life and the afterlife should be no different!"

The presence heaved the girl upright with little effort, and walked around her until he came into view. "So by means I should give you nothing. I should not even be here! And yet-" He turned about, his storm-blue eyes piercing into hers. "-here I am."

Flora gasped, her heart deadening, and her own eyes widening.

It was him. The monstrous figure from her previous dream, towering over her as though she were an insect. "Y-you…" She stammered, finding herself at a loss for words. "Y-you're here. You're back!"

The man with the octopus face tilted his head, his beard of tentacles writhing slowly. "Aye, lass. I have returned."

"B-but-but why?" The girl struggled to compose herself. Her emotions were becoming undone in this monster-this man's presence, and she did not know why! "Why have ye come back? Who are you? Where is my sword? Where-" She gazed around her, "Where-am I?"

His tentacles thrashed as he suddenly scowled. "I am not here to give you those answers-ah!" He snapped, the claw that replaced his left arm clicking.

Flora jolted at the sudden savagery in the man's voice. "Then…then why are ye here?" She stuttered, shock and confusion boiling into anger. "You-you helped me before and then ye left like the breeze! Why are ya here now? Can ya answer that?!"

The man glared at Flora with such a vile intensity that she froze. At that moment, she feared she might have gone too far and the monster will raise his claw to strike her, but then his expression shifted. Anger replacing itself with…empathy?

He turned away and started to pace before her. "…Ye' need a teacher, lass." He said, "That is why I'm here."

A teacher...Something fluttered within Flora's chest. Astonishment? Hope? "T-to...teach me?"

The man raised a slimy brow that stated the obvious, and Flora's scattered emotions eased. Did he really mean what he said? That he meant to be her teacher?

The fluttering feeling began to soar, brimming with bliss, but Flora stopped it at the last second. This sounded too good to be true. "How did-" She paused, recalling his reaction beforehand. "-How did ye' know I was looking for a teacher? And why-" She hesitated again. Bloody hell, she felt like a stuttering child in this creature's presence! "-why me…?"

The man twitched, unpleasantly. So many questions and yet he cannot answer all of them as much as he wanted to! This may be more difficult than he thought."...Ye' were right to say ye need to survive-ah," He stated. "To fight is the only way you will be able to now. As fer how I know this…"

His harsh gaze softened, his tone turning tender. "…One day you will know. I hope on that day, ye will understand."

One day...Flora stilled as she took the words in. The way he spoke was so gentle, and so...human. It was hard to believe he had been vicious with her mere seconds beforehand. It reminded her of Grandfather Albert whenever he comforted her and called her by her childhood nickname.

"I…" Flora faltered as she gazed up at the man. Despite his monstrous appearance and his unholy mood swings, she felt she could trust him. It was an absurd notion, trusting someone you've recently met-especially if that someone was barely human-but this man helped her before, even when she didn't want it. He could have raised his claw against her when she raised her voice, but he didn't.

He would not hurt her, much as his temper stated otherwise. He was trustworthy.

But...why me? What am I to him? How is any of this even possible?

She wanted nothing more than to ask, but she held her tongue instead. Too many questions, it seemed, worsened the man's attitude. Why that was was beyond her, so instead she tried to focus on the now. What the man was offering her even if it was against his apparent beliefs. Who else was willing to teach her? No one, according to Milo, so what other options were there?

Flora flexed her fingers, jittery with anticipation. This may be her only chance. She should take it now while the man was still interested! It was all she had! "Th-Thank you, sir. I-I accept yer offer!" She politely bowed her head, trying not to jump for joy like a rum-induced idiot as she did.

The man smiled, one that was both vexing yet not at the same time, and turned his back to her. "Then let us get started-ah."

"W-wait!" Flora called out, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Just-one more question, please? There is something I need to know!"

He halted in place, silent. He was listening.

"What-what be your name?" The girl asked. "If-if yer' going to be my teacher, I will need a name to go by. Is that something ye can tell me?"

The man stood still like an undaunted statue, appearing lost in thought. Then, he lowered his head. "…Athair." He glanced in her direction, "For now, you may call me Athair."

Flora tilted her head at the strange name. "A hair, sir?"

"Athair," The man repeated impatiently in its correct pronunciation. He gave her an odd look then. "Ye've not studied Gaelic, have you?"

The girl blinked, "I-I haven't, sir," She admitted. "This is the first I've heard if it."

Good. The lack of Gaelic knowledge will work in his favor. "Very well. That is enough now-ah," The man called Athair grumbled before he walked to the opposite end of the main deck. Flora watched him go, noticing how his crab leg made him walk with strange gimp that hindered his movements. Another reminder of her grandfather... "We'll start with these."

Athair turned to the side, revealing what appeared to be two blunt swords made entirely out of the cursed hull of the ship. Flora recoiled and gaped. Where did those come from?!

"Are ye' frightened, girl?" Athair's tentacles curled, his grin sly.

Flora glanced at him, then at the makeshift swords, and then back again before realizing she was being foolish. He has the appearance of a sea beast, and I am more startled by the swords…

Her back turned warm with humiliation, and she straightened her stance before she could let it get to her. "No sir, I am not."

Athair laughed, a slow, wicked laugh that sent a chill down Flora's spine. "Sufficient to know." He grasped one of the barnacle-encrusted swords with his mostly normal hand. Flora was about to ask why she couldn't use her own sword, wherever it was, when- "Now defend yerself!"

He tossed the encrusted sword to Flora, and she almost had to dive to catch it. Before she could adjust to the sword's weight and balance, Athair rushed at her and brought his own blade down on her. Flora yelped and tried to parry the blow, only for the impact to break the sword from her grasp. "Dead." The man sneered before growling. "Always remain alert when in battle, lass-ah." He tossed the fallen blade back at the teenager. "Again!"

Oh hell! Flora swore as she was forced to parry the moment she grabbed the sword hilt. This time she was successful, but just barely. By God, he was strong! His limp nearly had her fooled!

"Good!" Athair complimented. "Bend yer' knees, keep the arms back, now defend!" He rushed at her again, and Flora held her ground against another strike before the second knocked her onto the deck. A clutter of sharp mussels dug into her back and she cried out.

Athair halted in his attack and narrowed his eyes. He was about to berate the girl until he noticed she was in real pain. "...Are ye alright?"

"It's-ARGH!" Flora seethed and bared her teeth. "Lash scars!"

The man raised a scaly brow. "Up then. Let me see."

He offered her his mostly normal hand and Flora took it, shivering as the single tentacle that replaced his index finger curled around her wrist as she was lifted off the deck. She staggered once she was back on her feet, and tensed when she felt Athair examine her back wounds.

"Easy now, yer' alright." He moved away. "Bruised, but not bleedin'. Let it pass."

Flora sighed with relief, but the moment was cut short when her sword was placed back into her now shaking hands. "The offensive now-ah." Athair retook his position in front of her, and readied his blade. Flora groaned. They had barely started and yet she was already exhausted!

"I will not tolerate pettiness here, lass!" Athair growled, having caught the girl's irritable moan. "I'm waiting."

Damn it. Flora adjusted herself and gritted her teeth, "M-my turn." She examined the man, searching for a good spot to strike. The crab limbs were out of the question, she feared she might accidentally slice into the tentacles if she went for the torso. She'll have to go for the arm, the mostly normal one. Anywhere on that limb might do.

Flora took a breath, aimed at the man's shoulder, and then lunged.

Athair parried the attack and drove her back, all with sparse effort. "Again."

The girl staggered backward and flailed to keep her balance. She heaved in a few more ragged breaths before trying again thrice more. "Not from the same angle!" The man barked when she continued aiming for his arm, warding her off over and over again each time she tried. "Ya' have to be unpredictable!"

"ARRRGH!" Between the exhaustion and the ever-growing frustration, Flora was about to lose it!

She eyed Athair's good leg-if it could be considered one-and charged. The man parried the attack once more.

Flora's face turned beat red and then she feinted, pretending to aim for the arm, only to go for the leg instead.

The attack struck home, and her eyes widened when she heard the man grunt. "Better!" He exclaimed before driving her back again.

Flora stumbled and drove her blade into the deck, gasping as she leaned against the hilt. "Can we-can we take a break?"

The beard of tentacles writhed as the man bared his teeth. "Do ye' think yer' opponents will allow breaks in a real fight?!" He angled his head with a snort, and Flora caught a glimpse of the scars beneath his eyes again. "In a fight between life and death, there will be no mercy-ah!" He informed sharply. "Now up!"

I can't… Flora silently pleaded as she fell to her knees. I c-can't…

If you don't learn, you're going to die!

She wrenched the sword hilt in response to her thoughts and, wither by willpower, the sheer desire to win and learn, or some other force at work, the girl found herself rising back on wobbly legs, gripping the encrusted blade as though it were a cane. "Have to…keep going." She rubbed her forehead as she straightened her stance. "No-no matter what…"

Athair smirked. "Continue then."

For how long they practiced afterward Flora did not know. She was about to perform a strategy Athair showed her (by knocking her over with it) when the ship suddenly tilted forward, bringing the duo to a sudden halt.

"What-what was that?!" Flora whirled her weary head left to right, and started blinking when her vision blurred. "Athair! What is happening?!"

The monstrous figure drove his sword into the deck, his composure still even as the ship tilted faster. "It is time to wake up-ah."

"Wh-what?!" Flora reached for the nearby mast as water flooded the deck. The ship was submerging into the sea! "But we've-" She stammered as familiar voices wafted around her, and her fatigued body felt light as she started drifting, as though her soul were plucked out of her form and being carried away. "-we've… only started…"

"Ye' cannot learn to fight through a single duel, Miss Flora!" The man called Athair laughed as his form darkened into a sinister silhouette. "We will continue to meet until ye' can."

"And…" The voices grew louder as the dream world continued to fade. "When will I have learned...?"

"When ya can beat ME!"

"Lawrence? Come on, wake up!"

Someone threw a pillow at her. "C'mon lad, time to get up!"

Flora groaned, and there were a few sighs of relief. "There 'e goes!"

The cabin boy turned over her hammock, and landed on the deck with a painful THUD!

Alan the woodcarver blinked. "This is odd. 'E's usually already up and about by this time."

"Maybe he found Master Milo's secret rum compartment?" suggested the crew mate next to him.

Alan's eyes widened. "'E' 'as a secret rum compartment?!"

Someone's back cracked, and the crew members swiveled onto Flora as she got to her feet. "There you are! We were worried about ya, lad!"

The girl stumbled about like a drunk, and leaned against the nearby hammock post for support. Everything hurt. Her arms throbbed with each heartbeat, her legs felt like iron, and her back ached like a broken old woman's. The two crew mates gaped at her. "What in God's name happened to ya, Lawrence?" Alan asked. "Ye look like hell!"

"Did ya find Milo's secret rum compartment?" the second crew member asked greedily.

Flora gave the loudest yawn she'd ever mustered and rubbed her eyes, "R-rum compartment?"

The crew member frowned, "Aw bollocks…"

"What happened to ya Lawrence?" Alan repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, "Did ya overwork yerself again?"

Flora itched her back as she glanced between the eager duo. However, before she could answer either of them, a loud bellow came from above deck. "What are you three doing lollygagging?!" The crew mate overhead barked. "Get to work!"

"Alrigh', alrigh', no need to be cheeky." The second crew mate put his hat on and went off for the main deck.

"Ya gonna be alright, Lawrence?" Alan asked as Flora stumbled to her feet.

The girl strained as she stretched, "I...I have to…" She grumbled.

Alan blinked at her, his expression uncertain. "Well, if ya need a shoulder to lean on today, I'll be there!"

The woodcarver went off above deck, and Flora leaned against another hammock post before following after. SLEEP! Her exhausted body begged with each step she took, Go back to sleep! Rest! She ignored the cries of her aching form and struggled to climb up to the main deck, squinting her eyes against the bright sunlight of a new day.

A new day…Yet as Flora almost collapsed as she got to work, she found herself thinking back to the night before. Back to her recent dream, to the man with the octopus face who called himself Athair.

Is that even yer' true name? She silently asked as she swabbed the deck along with a few of her fellow mates. She noticed Milo watching her from the quarterdeck, and immediately turned away. No, it isn't. I-I remember now...

"For now, you may call me Athair."

Athair…what does it mean? Flora wondered drearily. Why do you help me, and yet refuse to answer any of my questions?

What is in this for you…?

Athair did not return to her dreams that night, nor the night after that. However, the day vessels flying the EITC flags were spotted sailing from afar, a sign that the Glory's voyage was coming to an end, a strange yet familiar draft of wind blew around Flora as she stood by the railings. The girl inhaled sharply and clutched her chest as though she'd been shot. She knew. Somehow, one way or another, she knew the time had come.

He was waiting for her.

"What's wrong, Lawrence?" Milo asked when he noticed the cabin boy's behavior.

Flora shot the first mate a cautious glare. "N-nothing sir," she lied. "Just…overwhelmed that we'll be seein' land again soon."

Milo smirked. "Of course, lad," He bluffed. "Whatever you say…"

The crew was restless that night. All of them were eager to make port the following morning, and so many of them found it hard to get any sleep as the evening dragged on. Flora, however, slept like a rock, knowing that she didn't have to fear the nightmares for long. For tonight, she will be returning to the dream world-strange as it was to say-to resume her lessons with Athair.

Did the idea of learning from within her dreams perplex her? Indeed it did. Did the thought of enduring Athair's harsh training methods again frighten her? Oh yes, reluctant as she was to admit, but she had to go on.

If the world truly was unfair, then she should be grateful to have been given this opportunity. No matter how brutal these sessions may get, she had to endure if she wanted to survive.

I will go on...Flora thought before sinking into a deep slumber, I am no coward...

The sky was a dusky violet when she arrived, wrapping the accursed vessel within the eerie yet beautiful light of sunset.

Flora shivered as she emerged soaking wet onto the main deck from the cargo hold. There had been more stagnant water down below than before, and though it was still low enough to wade through, Flora couldn't shake the sinking feeling that it will come to a point where she will be forced to swim one of these nights…

He was waiting for her at the same spot as last time, a horned silhouette against the twilight. Flora halted when she saw him, and exhaled a few unsteady breaths. Here we go again…

The girl braced herself and was about to approach the silhouette when the sea-infested deck suddenly CRACKED right beside her. Flora jumped and gawked as the same barnacle encrusted sword she'd previously wielded assembled before her eyes.

"Tell me, lass-ah." Athair cooed as he slowly turned around, his scaly face coming into the light. "Are ye' prepared for what's next?"

Flora looked up at the man, then at the newly formed sword, then up at the sails swaying above her. She had seen so much already, within both the realm of dreams and reality, and yet there was still a great deal that shocked and surprised her. "Hardly..." She answered, the truth rolling off the tip of her tongue like the taste of a sweet. "But…" She flexed her fingers and eagerly grabbed the hilt of the corrupted sword. "That doesn' mean I can't face it."

Athair smirked, pleased with the answer. "Let us see how well ye can take it then."

He drew his own sword, and the two began to duel once more.

"A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage" - If you get that reference, then you'll know one of the inspirations for this part of the story. To be truthful, I didn't know if Jones training Flora would work out, but I caved in after I had some time to think about it (and some coaxing from my best friend).

Anyway, break time! Sorry if this chapter came off as rushed. I am beginning to lose motivation again, so I was a bit too eager to finish this one up, even though I had fun writing it.

We take a dive into the more strange and bizarre in this chapter, and Flora finally meets with her father again. Oh Davy Jones, the woes of trying to be a parent/mentor without revealing yourself. You used to be the king of the seas; I believe you will manage (why are you so dang hard to write?!).

Do you realize how close I was to having him call Flora his 'apprentice' when she accepted his offer? I wanted to throw it in as a crappy Star Wars reference, but then I remembered Disneyvillianfan did something similar in their own fan fiction "A Twist in Fate", so I took it out.

"Why didn't Flora's sword carry over into the dream world?" I imagine some of you are asking? Simple: The sword is too heavy for her, therefore, she needs to practice since she's not ready to wield it yet.

Anyway, things will get crazier from here on out (at least I think it will). I just hope I will be able to do well with it when I'm motivated to write again.