Day 2 of Winter in the Year 513 AV
Aboard the Greytide pod pavilar, the Stormbrewer
Continued...
It had been nearly a month since the death and murder of Kel’s mentor. The rest of the Greytide pod seemed to have gotten over the deaths of their friends and companions with apparent ease since the Svefra’s demise at the hands of the magic user. The morpher had posed as Black Rock’s shipwright, offering to help the Svefra pod fix their damaged ship after a large storm had broken the mast. But after the repairs were finished, betrayed them and almost killed everyone on board. From the start, Kel knew the man shouldn’t be trusted but the lia refused to heed his warning. Because of her unforgivable choice, Gideon and four others died. The rest of the crew seemed to have moved on and appeared to shrug off the losses.
But not Kel.
Resentment, hatred and frustration roiled within the black haired Svefra, memories of the fateful night replaying itself over and over in his mind. Watching the look of shock cross Gideon’s face as the spear shoved itself through his chest. Watching as the light slowly faded from his blue eyes. Watching his body slowly slump to the ground, motionless. Over. And over. And over. Hundreds of different possibilities churned within his mind, ways he could have saved his mentor, one of the few people who actually mattered to the outcast Svefra.
Kel Greytide stood beside the gunwale of the paviler, blue eyes turned flecks of ice, boring into the horizon. Anger coursed through the Svefra, fingernails digging into the wood of the ship’s railing, knuckles turning white under the pressure. The continued memories only made the anger stronger, more volatile. It had been building, each day burning hotter and hotter, slowly spiraling into rage. Rage towards his pod, towards his lia. Because of her, Gideon was dead. Because she dismissed his instincts, the one person who accepted Kel for who he was, was gone, never to return.
“Kel! Shift your arse and man the starboard line!” A voice cut through his dark thoughts, dragging him back from the abyss in which he hovered. He didn’t even blink when he was addressed, but continued to stare stonily out to sea, barely registering the command. A few ticks later the voice barked out again. “You hear me?? Starboard line!” His fingernails dug even deeper into the wooden railing, anger growing stronger as he persisted in ignoring the instructions.
“You listening to me? I gave you an order!” A hand landed heavily on Kel’s shoulder and in that moment, something inside of him snapped. The pent up anger that had built from the last month finally burst forth from Kel in a torrent of fury. In one swift, vicious motion, the warrior balled his hand into a fist and wrapped his other hand around it, giving it extra momentum for maximum damage, driving his elbow as hard as he could straight back into the face of the crewmember behind him.
He felt and heard a sickening crunch as the Svefra’s nose broke under the blow. The man who had been ordering Kel crashed to the deck, hand jerking to his face as blood poured from the broken cartilage. He cried out, expression showing shock and pain. “What the shyke! You broke my nose!”
Kel spun and glared at him, fury burning in his eyes. His hands shook in anger as he glared down at the crew member. Activity and noise ceased on deck, all eyes trained on the conflict. Kel’s words were laced with rage. “Don’t petch with me, Lakor.”
The wounded Svefra staggered to his feet, hand still clutching his face. Another member of the pod tried stepping forward to tend to the wound but Lakor waved him off. He glared at Kel, blood running down his face and chin. His words were muffled under his hand but they still rang out clearly, loud enough for the rest of the pod on deck to hear.
“The lia put me in charge while she is busy in her quarters. That means you do what I tell you to, when I tell you to do it. I’m sick of your petching attitude! Where do you get off, thinking you’re better than us? You do nothing but disobey orders, pick fights and cause trouble among the pod.” Anger radiated in his voice and tension began to rise as the crew muttered in agreement.
Kel stepped directly in front of Lakor, blue eyes glinting dangerously. Fury fueled Kel’s words, clipping each syllable. “I. Don’t. Give. A. Petch. What. You. Think.” His face twisted into a sneer. “And I sure don’t give a single shyke what the petching lia put you in charge of.”
The social outcast shoved his face into the bloody Svefra’s, voice filled with venom. “If you don’t like my attitude, why don’t you try doing something about it.” The sneer turned into a hostile smirk, his sapphire eyes flashing as he goaded the acting captain into violence. Anger clouded Lakor’s judgment and he took the bait.
The bloody Svefra shoved Kel backwards and the rest of the crew quickly encircled the two. Lakor snarled at Kel and lashed out, fist flying towards the black haired Svefra’s face. Kel side stepped, easily avoiding the punch and drove his knee into his opponents stomach. Lakor wheezed as all the air was driven out of his lungs. Kel shoved him backwards and grinned wickedly.
“You can’t beat me, Lakor. You’re nothing but a petchin’ Jakri.” He spat on the ground as Lakor clutched his stomach, gasping in vain, trying to get oxygen into his lungs. Kel crouched down arrogantly beside the Svefra so that he was eye level with his opponent. “What’s a petching fisherman know about fighting, ehh? Have you even thrown a punch before?” Kel grunted in disgust and stood as Lakor finally managed to regain his breath.
“I can see why you pathetic skykes left the Tempest pod. Or did they kick you out because none of you had any spine? At least they would have been a challenge to fight.” The murmuring grew louder, the crew shifting angrily as they glared at Kel, faces growing stormy.
Lakor stood upright and was about to charge the arrogant Svefra who insulted the Greytide pod but froze as an authoritative voice cracked through the air like a whip bringing everything to a stand still.
“What the petch is going on here?”
Fratava, Common
