15 Saun, 724
.
This trial was the last trial for him to have to maintain his sea legs. He had hurled plenty of times in order to proclaim his insistence on being a land-lubber, or so all the ship employees liked to say. He had made no headway whatsoever with the red headed lass who went by the name of Queenie and had fallen into realms of defeat each and every time he tried to play the dice and card games of the fellow seafarers.
“Shore ahead!” announced one of the sailors. It was a sting to his eardrum, another sound he had yet to familiarise himself with since having his encounter with Vri. He didn’t exactly feel thankful for the blessing of hearing, but what was he supposed to do about it? He couldn’t exactly call the immortal back and plead for the reinstatement of his deafness, now could he? Never in his lifetime had he felt the need to want to be impaired until after he had encountered an immortal who had not only made his thoughts seem inferior but had given him an ability he hadn’t verbally asked for. Nevertheless, it was a lot to take in and even more to work with. Learning to hear had been harder than he had ever thought possible. Sounds were not only sharp, they were downright detestable. He had spent so many arcs learning to read people’s lips and facial features that listening to what they had to say seemed more of a hindrance than a blessing. But here he was working with what he had. And what he had meant was being deafened by the call of a seafarer who worked the crow’s deck.
Out of all the chaos that rang inside his head, Kotton tried to fixate on the positives- he was almost at his destination. He had spent countless trials and even more countless nights thinking and dreaming about what Viden was like. He had envisioned situations where he met his grandfather and had also imagined the various parts of trials where he would surely become more knowledgeable about not only his work, but his place of residence, his life, and anything and everything in between. He had hyped himself up for cold weather with what he knew about the region. But the city? Whilst chilly, he could only fathom all it had to give him. He explored visions of education, commerce, athletics and politics. He had only heard stories from his adoptive father, but it only took second-hand stories to raise his expectations to the highest. He was in for a treat, or so he hoped.
The announcement of a shore ahead meant nothing to him. The proclamation could mean metres, kilometres or kilometres upon kilometres. He could be psyching himself up for nothing short of another trial aboard such a bland and boring ship where he had fallen short of winning dice and care games, speaking to someone he had erroneously become infatuated with and foolishly resigning himself to the loneliness of the barracks.
Since he was in the barracks, he naturally gathered up all the paperwork he had written describing and addressing the information he had come to understand of the ways of a sailor and the ship they tended to. Most of his notes were made with sloppy handwriting, no thanks to the shifting of the sea, but some of them were legible enough for him to read.
He spent several minutes looking his notes over before a cabin boy poked him in the chest and demanded he be present on the main deck. Kotton was in no position or authority to do anything other than comply. So on the dampened wooden deck he stood, allocating every ounce of his attention to the captain who stood solemnly in front of him.
“I commend you all for being aboard my ship during this trip. I also commend each of you for pulling your weight during times of crises or otherwise unusual obstacles. We are nearing land now, so I hope everyone is aware of their priorities. Your duties are to remain absolute. Failure to do so will warrant nothing other than a walk amongst the plank.”
There was an obnoxious sound of ‘here haws’ that almost made Kotton plug his ears with the palms of his hands. Then, every sailor who knew their place on the boat went to their respective duties. But… he didn’t want to walk the plank in the case that someone failed to do what they were supposed to. Especially not since he was so close to his destination.
Queenie, the redhead he had tried not only to impress but to reason with during earlier trials approached him with a smirk. “Don’t worry,” she said. “He doesn’t mean you.”
Ouch.
“Raise the mast!” one sailor demanded, to which another adjacent from him complied. First, he freed up all restraints that held the mast in place before removing the forestay and the associated shrouds. However, something went wrong and the sailor who had originally demanded such a task wasted no time in observing this mistake. “The shrouds are disconnected!” he called. “Connect them again so they are free from entanglement with any other part of the ship!”
Kotton didn’t have his journal to write down his observations, but he didn’t think he would need it what with such intensity that was going on. He looked to the commanding sailor and back to the person he was attempting to direct only to find that the mast was still not within its proper position. “Join the mast to the mast foot. Now!” Kotton watched as the huge artefact swivelled on its access until it was appropriately positioned. “There’s gonna be a lot of pressure here when you raise it! Now, connect the mainsheet to the bow!”
Kotton had learnt about the bow and what it meant in regards to the rest of the ship. He could thank his tutor for that. However, his tutor was also the one who had told him it was okay to dismiss the rest of his training and loosen up in accord with conversing with the ship’s lovely maiden, Queenie.
“The forestay needs to be connected to the high end of the boom now! I need it checked for security, stat!”
Long gone had the persona of anxiety and overwhelmed that had plagued the half blood. Going forth, there was only a ‘fake it until you make it’ confidence that Kotton brought forth to ensure everyone he desired speaking with the thought of his self-assuredness. He had undergone trials where his doubt had been put to the test. Hell, he had even spent time in the presence of an immortal who had, in few too many words, declared his dubiety was a hindrance to his ability to live! That being said, Kotton was beyond taking second glances at things or making second guesses for things that were important. Because he knew, in hindsight, that his judgement was sound. So why dwell on the hypothetical, on the uncertainty or suspicious that may not even be? Disbelief and concern and scepticism was a waste of thought, thought that would more than likely reign true in any universe of conclusiveness.
Suddenly Queenie’s voice reverberated throughout the hull of the ship. Kotton’s hearing had been slowly returning since his encounter with Vri, but his physical sensation of any auditory reverb remained strong. He felt the vibration of her booming voice encompassing the entirety of the ship.
He made way to hold onto the railings of the boat’s side before righting himself and concentrating on the importance of her message.
“Load, stow and secure unmarked cargo! We’ve detected a weather phenomenon two clicks east of here!”
Kotton was determined to understand what it was she was hallering about, but would he be given the time to figure it out? Maybe, maybe not. It was all up to Queenie and how fast she moved from place to place.
Social anxiety wasn’t any place near him, so Kotton felt able to blurt out the questions he had for her. “Weather, where?”
“I just said,” she growled. “Two klicks east of here.”
“Yes, but what does that mean?” he persisted, grappling to the nearest wall as the ship rocked from side to side.
“Two clicks means two kilometres, you dunce. You figure out what direction that means.”
He wouldn't take her insult to heart since she was obviously under a lot of pressure. But where was the captain? Why was she the one running the whole ship? Did she have some higher authority marked by a button he had missed upon looking at her?
Doubt would not dismay him today. He made marks against his usual insecurity, starting with parting ways with the railing he had used to steady himself. He straightened his body against Queenie’s with the purpose of giving her any additional support he could, whether she was accepting of it or not.
Surprisingly, her face changed from an expression of mild agitation and oppression to something more along the lines of gratitude and meagre acceptance. He didn’t need a verbal “thank you” for him to do what he felt needed to be done, he just did it.
“You’re strife is my strife,” he declared as he moved his hands to the accord of his instructor.
Queenie smiled at him before adorning full custody of what was unpleasantry regailing the status of the ship.
Thunder roiled the waves of the sea, sending tumultuous waves of seawater onto the main deck, more than what had originally been forethought. Lightning struck from the makeshift of clouds, regions all too complex and intricate for any mortal to foresee, yet here it was, a thunderstorm with incalculable damage, waves of the ocean blowing from front to back, left to right, as the electric atmospheric made a tempest that deigned to communicate with what lie beneath it. With every stroke of light there was a horrendous shadow of a beast and it was massive in size, transparently seen through the watery works of the ocean. Had that been the outline of a whale? A dolphin? Perhaps a shark? They were all understandable theories, but were they correct? What was ideal was always some figment of an imagination that legitimated the notion that what had been was indeed an actual monster, no matter how unidentified by any notebook.
Kotton had only been a lesser character of the entire script, but he could catch on to the things that were most important, and what was most important was very difficult for him to forget.
He remembered his past conversation with Queenie, about whether she felt scared during her time aboard a ship filled with persons she couldn’t trust. He remembered asking her what she felt was delightful in terms of being able to trust people. And yes, he was also able to recall that she had swatted his endeavour to make someone feel more at home, more calm given the nature of their work.
And he had failed.
Regardless of what he had once failed to do, Kotton thrust his hands forward until they latched onto both of Queenie’s shoulders. He brought them towards his torso until her eyes met his. “Tell me,” he inquired with far more vigour than he had ever established with anyone else. “What is going on?”
Queenie’s face blanched. She couldn’t come up with an explanation, much less a reason for what was happening. That was until Kotton raised his hand, a feigned attempt to slap her until he gradually drew his hand back to his side. He diverted the conversation, redirected it back to navigation. “Think. You know this.”
His confidence in her must have done the trick, because the young redhead hiked up her pants and readjusted her bra so that it fit more comfortably along her bosom before declaring the need for the ship to, “adjust four clicks to the east.”
After her words had passed to all the sailor’s who needed to hear it, Queenie looked at Kotton with a smile. Then she kissed him. He was not expecting a kiss, to say the least. Sure, he had intended to win her over and impress her so as to establish some kind of flirtation, but his idea was to string her along and along until he felt one-hundred percent sure she was the one for him. Was that not how seafarers and sailors did it?
“Thank you,” Queenie said before redirecting her attention to the more important tasks that were at hand. Perhaps she also felt what he felt. Maybe she believed that this was a one time thing- a point of life that insinuated the potential for love trials and trials and trials until it didn’t make much sense anymore. She also wasn’t as interested in Kotton as he was with her after the course of several trials. Perhaps that was how love went. Not true love, obviously, but hormonal and equally as valid.
Whatever it was, Kotton was thankful he had ultimately reached the shore that had been previously announced. Cold, chilly, frigid and frozen, he had readied himself to be cast with the ultimate unruly of winter.
However, his mind kept on and on, continuing to revert its thoughts to those of a petite redhead who had held so much vigour and purpose. Would she be so entrapped as a soldier of a pirate ship or would she finally find peace in walking away towards the Sweetwine Woods where flowers of bee balm, cherry blossoms, and ghosts of orchids rose in delight of the sun’s shining.
“Shore ahead!” announced one of the sailors. It was a sting to his eardrum, another sound he had yet to familiarise himself with since having his encounter with Vri. He didn’t exactly feel thankful for the blessing of hearing, but what was he supposed to do about it? He couldn’t exactly call the immortal back and plead for the reinstatement of his deafness, now could he? Never in his lifetime had he felt the need to want to be impaired until after he had encountered an immortal who had not only made his thoughts seem inferior but had given him an ability he hadn’t verbally asked for. Nevertheless, it was a lot to take in and even more to work with. Learning to hear had been harder than he had ever thought possible. Sounds were not only sharp, they were downright detestable. He had spent so many arcs learning to read people’s lips and facial features that listening to what they had to say seemed more of a hindrance than a blessing. But here he was working with what he had. And what he had meant was being deafened by the call of a seafarer who worked the crow’s deck.
Out of all the chaos that rang inside his head, Kotton tried to fixate on the positives- he was almost at his destination. He had spent countless trials and even more countless nights thinking and dreaming about what Viden was like. He had envisioned situations where he met his grandfather and had also imagined the various parts of trials where he would surely become more knowledgeable about not only his work, but his place of residence, his life, and anything and everything in between. He had hyped himself up for cold weather with what he knew about the region. But the city? Whilst chilly, he could only fathom all it had to give him. He explored visions of education, commerce, athletics and politics. He had only heard stories from his adoptive father, but it only took second-hand stories to raise his expectations to the highest. He was in for a treat, or so he hoped.
The announcement of a shore ahead meant nothing to him. The proclamation could mean metres, kilometres or kilometres upon kilometres. He could be psyching himself up for nothing short of another trial aboard such a bland and boring ship where he had fallen short of winning dice and care games, speaking to someone he had erroneously become infatuated with and foolishly resigning himself to the loneliness of the barracks.
Since he was in the barracks, he naturally gathered up all the paperwork he had written describing and addressing the information he had come to understand of the ways of a sailor and the ship they tended to. Most of his notes were made with sloppy handwriting, no thanks to the shifting of the sea, but some of them were legible enough for him to read.
He spent several minutes looking his notes over before a cabin boy poked him in the chest and demanded he be present on the main deck. Kotton was in no position or authority to do anything other than comply. So on the dampened wooden deck he stood, allocating every ounce of his attention to the captain who stood solemnly in front of him.
“I commend you all for being aboard my ship during this trip. I also commend each of you for pulling your weight during times of crises or otherwise unusual obstacles. We are nearing land now, so I hope everyone is aware of their priorities. Your duties are to remain absolute. Failure to do so will warrant nothing other than a walk amongst the plank.”
There was an obnoxious sound of ‘here haws’ that almost made Kotton plug his ears with the palms of his hands. Then, every sailor who knew their place on the boat went to their respective duties. But… he didn’t want to walk the plank in the case that someone failed to do what they were supposed to. Especially not since he was so close to his destination.
Queenie, the redhead he had tried not only to impress but to reason with during earlier trials approached him with a smirk. “Don’t worry,” she said. “He doesn’t mean you.”
Ouch.
“Raise the mast!” one sailor demanded, to which another adjacent from him complied. First, he freed up all restraints that held the mast in place before removing the forestay and the associated shrouds. However, something went wrong and the sailor who had originally demanded such a task wasted no time in observing this mistake. “The shrouds are disconnected!” he called. “Connect them again so they are free from entanglement with any other part of the ship!”
Kotton didn’t have his journal to write down his observations, but he didn’t think he would need it what with such intensity that was going on. He looked to the commanding sailor and back to the person he was attempting to direct only to find that the mast was still not within its proper position. “Join the mast to the mast foot. Now!” Kotton watched as the huge artefact swivelled on its access until it was appropriately positioned. “There’s gonna be a lot of pressure here when you raise it! Now, connect the mainsheet to the bow!”
Kotton had learnt about the bow and what it meant in regards to the rest of the ship. He could thank his tutor for that. However, his tutor was also the one who had told him it was okay to dismiss the rest of his training and loosen up in accord with conversing with the ship’s lovely maiden, Queenie.
“The forestay needs to be connected to the high end of the boom now! I need it checked for security, stat!”
Long gone had the persona of anxiety and overwhelmed that had plagued the half blood. Going forth, there was only a ‘fake it until you make it’ confidence that Kotton brought forth to ensure everyone he desired speaking with the thought of his self-assuredness. He had undergone trials where his doubt had been put to the test. Hell, he had even spent time in the presence of an immortal who had, in few too many words, declared his dubiety was a hindrance to his ability to live! That being said, Kotton was beyond taking second glances at things or making second guesses for things that were important. Because he knew, in hindsight, that his judgement was sound. So why dwell on the hypothetical, on the uncertainty or suspicious that may not even be? Disbelief and concern and scepticism was a waste of thought, thought that would more than likely reign true in any universe of conclusiveness.
Suddenly Queenie’s voice reverberated throughout the hull of the ship. Kotton’s hearing had been slowly returning since his encounter with Vri, but his physical sensation of any auditory reverb remained strong. He felt the vibration of her booming voice encompassing the entirety of the ship.
He made way to hold onto the railings of the boat’s side before righting himself and concentrating on the importance of her message.
“Load, stow and secure unmarked cargo! We’ve detected a weather phenomenon two clicks east of here!”
Kotton was determined to understand what it was she was hallering about, but would he be given the time to figure it out? Maybe, maybe not. It was all up to Queenie and how fast she moved from place to place.
Social anxiety wasn’t any place near him, so Kotton felt able to blurt out the questions he had for her. “Weather, where?”
“I just said,” she growled. “Two klicks east of here.”
“Yes, but what does that mean?” he persisted, grappling to the nearest wall as the ship rocked from side to side.
“Two clicks means two kilometres, you dunce. You figure out what direction that means.”
He wouldn't take her insult to heart since she was obviously under a lot of pressure. But where was the captain? Why was she the one running the whole ship? Did she have some higher authority marked by a button he had missed upon looking at her?
Doubt would not dismay him today. He made marks against his usual insecurity, starting with parting ways with the railing he had used to steady himself. He straightened his body against Queenie’s with the purpose of giving her any additional support he could, whether she was accepting of it or not.
Surprisingly, her face changed from an expression of mild agitation and oppression to something more along the lines of gratitude and meagre acceptance. He didn’t need a verbal “thank you” for him to do what he felt needed to be done, he just did it.
“You’re strife is my strife,” he declared as he moved his hands to the accord of his instructor.
Queenie smiled at him before adorning full custody of what was unpleasantry regailing the status of the ship.
Thunder roiled the waves of the sea, sending tumultuous waves of seawater onto the main deck, more than what had originally been forethought. Lightning struck from the makeshift of clouds, regions all too complex and intricate for any mortal to foresee, yet here it was, a thunderstorm with incalculable damage, waves of the ocean blowing from front to back, left to right, as the electric atmospheric made a tempest that deigned to communicate with what lie beneath it. With every stroke of light there was a horrendous shadow of a beast and it was massive in size, transparently seen through the watery works of the ocean. Had that been the outline of a whale? A dolphin? Perhaps a shark? They were all understandable theories, but were they correct? What was ideal was always some figment of an imagination that legitimated the notion that what had been was indeed an actual monster, no matter how unidentified by any notebook.
Kotton had only been a lesser character of the entire script, but he could catch on to the things that were most important, and what was most important was very difficult for him to forget.
He remembered his past conversation with Queenie, about whether she felt scared during her time aboard a ship filled with persons she couldn’t trust. He remembered asking her what she felt was delightful in terms of being able to trust people. And yes, he was also able to recall that she had swatted his endeavour to make someone feel more at home, more calm given the nature of their work.
And he had failed.
Regardless of what he had once failed to do, Kotton thrust his hands forward until they latched onto both of Queenie’s shoulders. He brought them towards his torso until her eyes met his. “Tell me,” he inquired with far more vigour than he had ever established with anyone else. “What is going on?”
Queenie’s face blanched. She couldn’t come up with an explanation, much less a reason for what was happening. That was until Kotton raised his hand, a feigned attempt to slap her until he gradually drew his hand back to his side. He diverted the conversation, redirected it back to navigation. “Think. You know this.”
His confidence in her must have done the trick, because the young redhead hiked up her pants and readjusted her bra so that it fit more comfortably along her bosom before declaring the need for the ship to, “adjust four clicks to the east.”
After her words had passed to all the sailor’s who needed to hear it, Queenie looked at Kotton with a smile. Then she kissed him. He was not expecting a kiss, to say the least. Sure, he had intended to win her over and impress her so as to establish some kind of flirtation, but his idea was to string her along and along until he felt one-hundred percent sure she was the one for him. Was that not how seafarers and sailors did it?
“Thank you,” Queenie said before redirecting her attention to the more important tasks that were at hand. Perhaps she also felt what he felt. Maybe she believed that this was a one time thing- a point of life that insinuated the potential for love trials and trials and trials until it didn’t make much sense anymore. She also wasn’t as interested in Kotton as he was with her after the course of several trials. Perhaps that was how love went. Not true love, obviously, but hormonal and equally as valid.
Whatever it was, Kotton was thankful he had ultimately reached the shore that had been previously announced. Cold, chilly, frigid and frozen, he had readied himself to be cast with the ultimate unruly of winter.
However, his mind kept on and on, continuing to revert its thoughts to those of a petite redhead who had held so much vigour and purpose. Would she be so entrapped as a soldier of a pirate ship or would she finally find peace in walking away towards the Sweetwine Woods where flowers of bee balm, cherry blossoms, and ghosts of orchids rose in delight of the sun’s shining.