Spring 3rd, 514 AV
Svefra were maniacs. All of them. Every single petching one of them. Some of them a little more than others, and some for more logical reasons. But the main reason was… they loved the accursed place called an ocean. Oryani couldn’t believe them. It was big, deep, and wet. And it moved. All the time, constantly. Her hands had developed to sense the motion of water when it was rare, but never in these quantities, never like this… It gave her a headache, and if made her feel sick… though those were apparently natural for first time sea riders. They grinned at her distaste.
She’d been dragged aboard this creaky wooden thing, locked in a room, and left alone. Apparently it was called a ‘boat’, whatever that was. The stupid Svefra (it was what they called themselves) had seemed amazingly pleased by her, then went showed that gratitude by enslaving her… it was insulting, and… a little scary. Just a little. But she wasn’t going to say that aloud. She didn’t want to think about Khal or Alaril either, the former filling her with sorrow, the latter with rage. She had to think about… now. Where she was now, what she was doing now… everything else was just… scary.
The room she was in was small, with a funny swinging thing they’d called a ‘hammock’ that only Eywaat knew the purpose of. It just hung there, between walls, a bundle of cord that stretched out. Not that she could try it out so well, since her hands were bound. Her hands… her hands were a cause of a lot of irritation and upset. The constant movement of water that she could always feel made her sick. She tried to keep the palms covered most of the time, to lessen the feeling, but it didn’t do too much…
That was only part of it. In fact, she felt sick all round. The movement gave her a headache, and made her feel a little woozy, then the rocking of the ship made her feel worse…. She’d thrown up twice the previous day, and once so far this day. It was getting… disgusting. At least the Svefra were helpful when it happened… one of the women cleaned it up, then gave her a bucket, a bunch of water, and talked in Common and Fravata rapidly… the last more irritating than helpful. Didn’t any of them speak any Pavi? The Chatakwe was still a little hostile as well, considering their actions… she had a good reason.
Her stomach groaned as they lifted over one particular swell, and she felt bile lift in her throat. The sailors had been surprised at how bad this was, but Oryani was not. She always got sick, it was a fact of life… she was pretty sure this bad situation just made everything… worse. Her upset stomach, her headache, her lack of ability to keep actual food down… apparently it was going to get better, fade, but… she didn’t believe it. How could anything this strong ever disappear? She’d probably die of starvation before that happened. It was a looming thread… yet another one of the things she didn’t want to think about.