68th Day of Spring
Anchorage Flotilla
18th Bell
Captain Tonio knew what it was to sail away from a woman. He'd done it before. Sweethearts, childhood romances, enamored girls, even wives and his three daughters. Sometimes it was a release, he remembered with a wry smile, for some were so desperate and intense it was like escaping from a shark. Other times... it crushed and gnawed at him.
So he recognized the look on the Myrian's face when he looked over and saw him on the fore deck of the Cuttlefish. He was pretty hard to miss, after all. They were readying the saique to leave come the morning sun, and he was spurring them on and on to finish the loading. Now sacks of feed and biscuits, salted pork and fresh water, nets, food stuffs, everything they might need, along with the usual cargo they would trade in Syliras.
A dozen Svefra swarmed endlessly across his deck like army ants, but the Myrian was still. Watching. Waiting.
Tonio sighed, though you would not see much sympathy in his eyes. Bastard savage had cost him money, after all, threatening him with blackmail and slander after the... incident, with that land-walker noble's son. But he still walked over to the Myrian, saw that the only movement visible was one hand... stroking a shell at his belt.
"Hoping she'll see you off, Myrian?"
There was a slight incline of that pierced head as the Myrian acknowledged the barbarian at his side.
"This where you tell me that savage me needs to stay from your girl?"
"She's not my girl," Tonio said evenly, packing his pipe, "And you're not as savage as people think."
"Yes, I am."
Tonio seemed to consider this for a moment and just shrugged. He hadn't seen the Myrian fight, after all, just spar... and that had been enough. He didn't particularly want to find out what kind of violence Razkar was capable of when he really meant it.
"Either way, you're worrying too much."
There was a subtle shifting in Razkar's posture that Tonio just about noticed. Some kind of... softening. Like a guard at attention shifting to at ease. A small sigh escaped his mouth.
"It is not like love. She is friend. But I not want to go before saying good bye."
"I understand."
Razkar turned to face him at that. Tonio looked into those black eyes without fear, just as he had when they first met. The Myrian had changed little since that day in Riverfall, but the fact he wore his hair loose over his shoulders instead of his habitual, tribal topknot made quite an impression. Black, thick curls framed a tanned face, eyes that bore more intelligence and emotion that the Svefra would have thought a savage capable of.
"... I think you speak truth."
"Calling me a liar, otherwise?"
"No." Another small pause. "I thank you for not throw me off boat. After thing with petching boy."
"You still owe me fifty mizas."
Razkar rolled his eyes but left well enough alone. Tonio snorted softly and there was the flick and hiss of a match being struck... the pungent aroma of burning tobacco, that Kenash brand he liked so much... the suck of that first, glorious, fresh puff... then tendrils of curling grey that struck out in front of Razkar's eyes.
"I'll leave you be. Plenty to do, and Syna's departing."
Razkar nodded, and resumed his vigil over the field of lashed-together ships. Trying to spot one redhead among the hundreds bustling down there was hard enough, but harder now the light was fading.
But still he stood. And waited. And hoped.
Anchorage Flotilla
18th Bell
Captain Tonio knew what it was to sail away from a woman. He'd done it before. Sweethearts, childhood romances, enamored girls, even wives and his three daughters. Sometimes it was a release, he remembered with a wry smile, for some were so desperate and intense it was like escaping from a shark. Other times... it crushed and gnawed at him.
So he recognized the look on the Myrian's face when he looked over and saw him on the fore deck of the Cuttlefish. He was pretty hard to miss, after all. They were readying the saique to leave come the morning sun, and he was spurring them on and on to finish the loading. Now sacks of feed and biscuits, salted pork and fresh water, nets, food stuffs, everything they might need, along with the usual cargo they would trade in Syliras.
A dozen Svefra swarmed endlessly across his deck like army ants, but the Myrian was still. Watching. Waiting.
Tonio sighed, though you would not see much sympathy in his eyes. Bastard savage had cost him money, after all, threatening him with blackmail and slander after the... incident, with that land-walker noble's son. But he still walked over to the Myrian, saw that the only movement visible was one hand... stroking a shell at his belt.
"Hoping she'll see you off, Myrian?"
There was a slight incline of that pierced head as the Myrian acknowledged the barbarian at his side.
"This where you tell me that savage me needs to stay from your girl?"
"She's not my girl," Tonio said evenly, packing his pipe, "And you're not as savage as people think."
"Yes, I am."
Tonio seemed to consider this for a moment and just shrugged. He hadn't seen the Myrian fight, after all, just spar... and that had been enough. He didn't particularly want to find out what kind of violence Razkar was capable of when he really meant it.
"Either way, you're worrying too much."
There was a subtle shifting in Razkar's posture that Tonio just about noticed. Some kind of... softening. Like a guard at attention shifting to at ease. A small sigh escaped his mouth.
"It is not like love. She is friend. But I not want to go before saying good bye."
"I understand."
Razkar turned to face him at that. Tonio looked into those black eyes without fear, just as he had when they first met. The Myrian had changed little since that day in Riverfall, but the fact he wore his hair loose over his shoulders instead of his habitual, tribal topknot made quite an impression. Black, thick curls framed a tanned face, eyes that bore more intelligence and emotion that the Svefra would have thought a savage capable of.
"... I think you speak truth."
"Calling me a liar, otherwise?"
"No." Another small pause. "I thank you for not throw me off boat. After thing with petching boy."
"You still owe me fifty mizas."
Razkar rolled his eyes but left well enough alone. Tonio snorted softly and there was the flick and hiss of a match being struck... the pungent aroma of burning tobacco, that Kenash brand he liked so much... the suck of that first, glorious, fresh puff... then tendrils of curling grey that struck out in front of Razkar's eyes.
"I'll leave you be. Plenty to do, and Syna's departing."
Razkar nodded, and resumed his vigil over the field of lashed-together ships. Trying to spot one redhead among the hundreds bustling down there was hard enough, but harder now the light was fading.
But still he stood. And waited. And hoped.