“I told you to stay close to me if you want to live“, the Mortalborn reminded the blonde woman that he had foolishly offered to protect and pulled her away from the shadow creature that had nearly killed her and might have done something even worse, given the chance. “Which part of my warning did you not understand?” The tone of his voice was harsh. A woman that had thrown caution to the wind and very nearly paid with her life could not expect any pity from him, although he would not leave her to the monsters. When he had first taken up the sword, more than three centuries before, he had vowed to protect those that were weaker than him, no matter what, although he had begun to sometimes doubt that decision.
“Are you hurt?” He picked up the torch that she had dropped and held it in front of her to see if she had any bite wounds or scratches that might require treatment. Despite the fact that the twin suns had risen a while ago, it was almost completely dark, and thick, grey clouds obscured the sky. Under normal circumstances the Mortalborn did not mind the darkness – it was one of his domains and a source of great comfort – but there was something in the air that trial that chilled him to the bone. It would be a miracle if all of them survived, he thought.
“No matter. Come with me”, he told her, hoping that she possessed at least a modicum of common sense and would not insist on doing the opposite of what she should again and try his patience. “We are not safe here.” He gestured towards the barrels behind which she had hidden in the beginning of the battle. They would obscure them from the creature’s view, he hoped. The thought to take her below deck had also occurred to him, but doing so would keep him from seeing what was happening on deck, and he hated to be unaware.
“My name is Doran”, he spoke in an attempt to create some sort of familiarity between them and make her more inclined to listen. “I’m currently a professor at Rynmere University, although I was a swordsman and a healer before that.” He did not ask her for her name. If she wanted to tell him who she was and why she was on that ship when she was so obviously ill prepared for such a mission, she without a doubt would.
Wide blue eyes looked up at the tall man as Alys stumbled and fought to regain her balance. Her hand curled over his arm as she steadied herself on the deck of the ship. He was angry at the world and the danger that surrounded them both. Most importantly, he seemed to have found a way to vent his anger, at her. The torch was brandished in front of her face as he sought to examine her, seeking any wounds or injuries. It was then that Alys lost her composure and scowled at the man, pushing the wooden handle away. “No thanks to you, I’m fine!” She patted her arms though and grimaced. Some of the skin had been grazed from her shoulders and arms where she had rolled.
He gestured back to her original hiding place and the woman didn’t hesitate. Her gaze flicked over the man once more, head to toe before she curled her fingers around his sleeve. Determined that he would follow her to safety and at least act as a defence against the beasts. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she couldn’t quite understand why she’d lept out to defend the other passengers. What on earth had possessed her to get involved. Her legs folded beneath her as she sank back down into relative safety. She released Doran and pressed her hands against her chest. Beneath the pale flesh she could feel the endless racing on her heart, jumping out of time. She looked up at the man once more. He was a puzzle, a professor and a swordsman? A healer too? By the Immortals he had accomplished a lot in a short life…he must be a powerful man, or perhaps rich to afford such an education.
Alys drew her legs close to her chest and closed her eyes. She concentrated on her rapid breathing. Her fingers moved over the ring on her finger, the final connection she had to her Mother. Confident that she had regained control she looked up, searching Doran’s expression “I did not ask you to intervene,” she scolded, “but I am grateful for your actions, Sir. I am Alys.” It was then that she peered around him at the continuing battle, “do you think they bought us here…so that we could die?” She spoke her mind.
“No, you are quite obviously not“, he replied somewhat coldly as she insisted that she was fine. He was not only referring to the fact that some of the skin had been grazed from her arms and shoulders, but also to her mental state. The encounter with the beast seemed to have shaken her, and he hoped that she would not become a liability because of it. “Still, there is nothing that requires immediate treatment, although you should eventually have those abrasions cleaned and covered to prevent infection. You may think it is nothing, but I have seen people die from seemingly minor wounds.”
The fact that she curled her fingers around his sleeve irritated him somewhat, but since he had wanted to come with her anyway – he could not leave her alone in good conscience as she seemed to be prone to somewhat self-destructive behaviour – he did not stop her. “Take slow, deep breaths through your nose”, he ordered her as he saw her sitting there, with her hands pressed against her chest and breathing rapidly. He didn’t want her to start hyperventilating now, have a panic attack and make herself fall unconscious as a consequence. He’d seen it happen before, with others. “You are safe for now" he added in a tone that was slightly more gentle.
“If I had not intervened”, he informed her, caring little for her criticism. “The creature might have hurt you worse.” As Alys expressed her gratitude – maybe she was not as unreasonable as she had first seemed after all – he inclined his head a fraction, thus letting her know that he had acknowledged it. As she asked him whether they had just been brought there so that they could die, he didn’t reply immediately, but looked at her and the battle that was still raging behind them thoughtfully for a few moments.
He had been wondering the same. In the beginning, when his immortal father had first come to his house, he had been somewhat optimistic and willing to obey his orders, as he always had, but he had lost nearly all faith in the Immortals since then. Little more than frustration and anger remained. Half of the people that they travelled with seemed to have little to no combat experience. What could the Immortals possibly want with a house slave, a tutor and a doctor whose greatest skill seemed to be in injuring herself?
“Perhaps”, he finally said. He would not do her a favour if he coddled her and tried to make her feel better about their situation. She needed to face the reality of what was happening around them if she wanted to live. “Perhaps this is just some bizarre form of entertainment for them, but we do not have to do what they want and allow whatever monstrosities they throw at us to kill us. We can surprise them. We have survived so far, haven’t we?”
The woman almost retorted with the words, ‘so what are you going to do about it?’ as he pointed out the obvious truth. No she was not alright. She was stuck in the middle of the ocean on an ancient ship infested with shadow creatures that wanted to devour everything in sight. Nothing was alright. Nothing was okay. Alys couldn’t fathom what madness had seen her accept the invitation and join the good fight. Never again would she trust her fate to Immortals who held her life in contempt! Shaking fingers ran over the abrasions and she hissed in a breath. The action stung but she’d been unable to help herself. He was right of course, they needed to be cleaned or covered or Immortals knew what kind of nasty infection could be found on this filthy cesspit.
She scowled at his promise that they were safe. She looked past him at the endless ocean however, and did as she was bid. Slow, halting drags of air into her lungs and then out again. She bought her knees closer to her chest and rested her chin upon them. This was not the glorious mission that she had imagined.
His words fell like crashing waves. Perhaps. Maybe they had been lured out here to die; was that the awful truth? Her gaze narrowed on the ocean. Right again. She had never relinquished destiny to fate. Life was hard. It was an endless battle and the only way to succeed was to keep fighting. Crushing those who opposed her beneath the heel of a well-turned boot.
Alys lifted her chin and studied the man once more. He seemed calmer and stronger than the rest. She gave a small but determined nod and stretched her legs out. The panic in her chest seemed to subside and she was able to exhale a clear breath of air. “I am no one's entertainment, Sir,” she replied and with that she stood up. Her feet remained unsteady on the deck and she stumbled. Catching her balance on the tall man she stood up once more and brushed her hands against her breaches. Then she tugged a lock of pale between her fingertips and surveyed the deck.
She seemed to calm down again and not give in to her fears. That was good. Perhaps she was not as great a liability, perhaps she was stronger than he had thought at first. As she lifted her chin and studied him, he did the same. He looked directly into her eyes for a moment, calmly and nearly without blinking, before he pulled his gaze away again and remarked, “I didn’t think so.”, referring to her statement that she was no one’s entertainment, although he had had a few doubts about her. As she tried to stand up and stumbled, he extended a hand to help her in case it was necessary, to keep her from falling and getting hurt. “Careful”, he warned her.
“For now, as I already told you”, he answered and looked towards the deck as well where the battle momentarily seemed to be abate somewhat. “As long as you stay behind me and do exactly what I say. I do not think that they will attack us again for a while, seeing as their current attempt is unlikely to be successful. I do not think that even they have unlimited resources. I cannot make any predictions regarding what will happen in Ne’haer though. I left the city over two arcs ago, and if they same things that happened in Rynmere happened there, it has likely changed a great deal. Still, I prefer battles on land to those on a ship as it is impossible to evade the enemy when you are surrounded by water.”
It wasn’t only the fact that being on a ship put them at a disadvantage during a fight. On a normal ship they could at least tried to jump or taken a lifeboat if worse came to worst, but the Immortals seemed to have put some sort of spell on this one. He had seen people jump over the railing, and they had just ended up on deck again. It was another reason why he did not trust his father and his allies anymore. They treated the people that Idalos supposedly needed so much like cattle that were on the way to the butcher in order to be slaughtered.
It was just then that somebody screamed in front of them. The Mortalborn gave Alys a sign to be quiet and lower her head so that she would not be seen – he hoped that she would do what he said this time - and stepped forward, swinging his sword as he did so to kill the beast that had gotten close to their hiding place. Once he had made sure that the area around them was clear, he returned to her. The thought that he could abandon her did briefly occur to him, but then he had already vowed that he would protect her, and he rarely broke his word. Besides, if he sacrificed all of the people on the ship, what would happen to him?
“Why do you think you are here, Alys? Why did you follow the summons?” he abruptly asked. He needed to know more about her. He needed to know who exactly he had tied himself to. Against all odds he hoped that at least some of his so called companions had special abilities, that they were mages or Mortalborn like him, that they did at least possess some sort of information that would aid them once they had reached Ne’haer. Unless the Immortals had chosen a group of mostly weaklings on purpose, hoping that they would not fight too much or ask too many questions, but blindly march towards their doom, trusting those that just wanted them to die?
Alys remained grateful of the helping hand that he offered her, fingers curling around the strong and steadying arm, “thank you,” came the mumbled response as she straightened and found her balance once more. She was starting to wonder if she would ever catch her ‘sea legs’ as they said. It sounded like some kind of disease though, what if once caught, you never got rid of them again? Interest piqued at his discussion of visiting Ne’hear the woman lent closer to Doran, listning to his words as though they were golden nels, falling from his lips. A powerful man who travelled. Who was he, really? A great warrior perhaps or business man? Alys did not move in circles where it was a simple thing to travel across Idalos. People who travelled were people with money, or power, or both. It all cemented the idea in her mind that this man, in particular, would be a very good friend to keep.
A scream shattered her thoughts and he strode forward, all manly and protective and if she would admit it, set the pulse of her heart thumping harder. She was all too happy to stick close to him. Her hands curled in the back of his jacket as though she could cling to him and remain safe. She did her best not to get in his way or interfere however, stepping to the side as he swung his arm. It would do neither of them any good if he was injured.
His questions caused her eyes to narrow and she looked up at the man, searching his face once more. A handsome face, she decided. Who was she to be summoned? Who was she to answer the call. The woman wet dry lips and looked over his shoulder at the falling carnage.
“I’m a thief,” she told him, blunt, “and a liar. I organise the killing of petty men to gain traction and land and keep the girls of my streets selling themselves cheap. Cheap enough to line my pocket,” she looked up at him and wondered if he would be believe the simple truth. She smiled at him, the expression bright though it didn’t reach her eyes, “or I’m a clerk in my Father’s bookshop,” slender shoulders lifted in a shrug.
The Mortalborn didn’t appreciate the fact that Alys still held onto his jacket, but he decided that he would tolerate it as long as she didn’t get in the way when he was fighting and endanger both of them again. As she claimed to be a thief and liar he raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he asked. It surprised him that she talked about things that most of the people they were forced to share the ship with would condemn so openly. She was either a fool or braver than he had given her credit for. For now he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He could actually see a few uses for a thief on the mission whereas the house slave and the tutor seemed to be superfluous to him.
“Or perhaps you are both”, he spoke and met her gaze. The mention of killing and girls selling themselves cheap bothered him little. In the centuries he had been alive he had seen the best and the worst of humanity. If anything, it intrigued him to some extent. He preferred people like her, people that admitted to being criminals, to those that claimed to be noble and just and righteous when their closet was overflowing with skeletons. “A thief and a liar when you feel like it and a simple clerk in a bookshop when you need to hide in plain sight.”
Perhaps, he thought, the Immortals had brought her here because they needed her to steal something, although he had no idea what. It surprised him though that Ziell, that Xiur, Moseke and Qylios would resort to such measures when they had always pretended to be the so called good people, the ones that defended Idalos against the shadow.
“I think it is safe for us to leave”, he informed her as he took another look around. The battle had finally stopped, and it seemed as if they had won, against all odds. He hadn’t thought that those people had had it in them. But then again, everybody got lucky occasionally. “We should go below deck now. I’d like treat your abrasions myself after all”, he remarked. After having seen that snake woman nearly accidentally kill herself he was loath to put her in the hands of another doctor, fearing that they would just make it worse.
She was beautiful, he observed, more than any of the other women on the ship. In all the chaos he hadn’t had the opportunity to take a closer look at her yet. It made him wonder if she was more than she had admitted, more than just an ordinary thief. He was the son of an Immortal, with powers that few humans had, masquerading as a scientist and, occasionally, a warrior after all, and he never told the whole truth, to anybody.
“Maybe I am just both,” she agreed. The young woman held his gaze a little longer than she had before she straightened up. Her legs still refused to co-operate but she remained stubborn. Determined to stay upright, she’d reached the cold conclusion that the damsel in distress act had bought her as far as it would, with the man before her. He’d been kind at least, generous in offering his protection and word and she could appreciate altruism. With her recent confession out in the open, she scanned the deck as though waiting to be arrested.
No one made any loud sounds or started marching in their direction, so she could only assumed they either didn’t care or they hadn’t heard. Her hand curled against his arm one last time and she squeezed, “you won’t tell anyone my little secret, will you?” Pale eyes searched his before she released him once and for all. She touched her hand to her shoulder and the scraped skin, “if you wouldn’t mind.” Maybe she should have been braver and refused his help. But stoicism didn’t win many friends.
She walked ahead of him, glancing back over her shoulder before vanishing as directed below decks.
“No, I won’t”, he replied as she asked him if he would tell anybody and met her gaze. “Why should I?” He was perhaps the only person on this ship apart from their immortal captain who didn’t care who she was and what she might have done in the past or would still do. It wasn’t up to him to judge her. He sometimes found himself caring little about the laws that he had not made himself. Besides, she had not tried to steal anything from him.
While she vanished below deck, he took another couple of moments to survey the area around them before he finally sheathed his sword and followed her. Having done that, he found a place where they would be relatively undisturbed by the other adventurers who were rude and somewhat foolish at the best of times. It took him a while to locate a piece of cloth and something to clean her abrasions with. Fresh and relatively clean water, it seemed, was hard to come by on a ship.
“I will have to clean those abrasions first and remove the dirt from them”, he informed her as he inspected her head and then the other places where she was hurt. “It may sting a little. I hope that you aren’t squeamish.” He’d think less of her if she started to cry out. Once he had made sure that her wounds were clean, he applied some ointment from a small bottle and finally cut the cloth that he had found into strips.
“The bandages will have to be changed once a trial”, he told her as he dressed those wounds that looked as if they might require such. “Will you need help with that or can you do it yourself?” She seemed different now, he noticed, less of a damsel in distress – a kind of person that he found to be fairly useless – and more stubborn and stronger. Perhaps, he thought, what he had previously seen had just been a facade. He was actually somewhat impressed.
He set up his station to work and the woman helped him as best she could. Unfastening her jacket and folding it in her lap. Her blouse was unfastened and she pushed it from her shoulders. Wincing as the soft fabric caught the shredded skin. The scrapes had bled and congealed with the material and pulling from her shoulder, forced the wound to open fresh. Nose wrinkled with distaste she ease the fabric away from her shoulder, flinching as she tried to pick out a few small threads that lay in the wound. Her free arm was pressed across her chest to prevent her shirt from falling away and revealing more than she was willing to show a strange man.
He warned her about the sting and she’d looked away from the wound then. She wasn’t squeamish per say, but she’d learnt that it was better not to watch. Instead she focused her gaze on the knotted hull of the ship. Concentrating on the gentle rock of the ship was enough to make her feel green, so she quickly learnt to try and block the sensation out. She remained silent as he worked, glancing at him every so often. Would he keep her secret? Why? What did he have to gain? Secrets were currency, what did he hope to trade and if not now, in the future. Suspicion was her line of business and her pale gaze narrowed.
The ointment seemed to ease the sting and her shoulders dropped, relaxed as she realised that the work was done. “I should be able to manage,” she admitted. Her gaze returned to his face and she studied it in the half-light, “however, unless you are deathly busy on this damned-barge, perhaps I could coerce you into assisting me?” It was something to do at least as they travelled.
