Third of Spring, 516 AV
It was rotten, all of it. The people, the smell, the look, even the wood was wasting away. There was a dice game happening in one corner, a card game happening in another. There was a dagger in every man’s pocket; no one laughed or smiled at those tables. Theo wondered what use was a game with no fun, they certainly had not earned their money gambling on this boat.
As the boat rocked back and forth, the weak writhed on their bed sheet in sickness. Others had gone up top towards the deck for a physical release. Already there was someone sick under quarantine hidden in the depths of the ship. It was the crew’s third day at sea and the air already smelt like something other.
While the sailors gambled they bickered over the state and the future of the world, they boasted and played coy about their lives back home, they condemned others and raved of them in the same breath; they were something new and something of the same. Theo had his second guesses about coming on this trip, but there was no time or room for that now. If he tried to swim to shore it’d be a dead man’s rush; plus, he had purpose on this boat.
So Theo sat against the wall on a stool, sipping a formerly tall drink. If the stool were a man, it’d have a stub arm, one of four legs was broken in half, a testament to the crew’s care and adamant temperament. Still the stool was good enough for rocking, and it rocked in a rhythm as Theo set a pace back-and-forth, back-and-forth.
He didn’t yet feel at home, he wondered if he ever would. Everyone was so, not like what he used to. They all had free lips and spoke in ways that Theo had grown unaccustomed to in Syliras. Usually Theo was the biggest talker in the room but not now, but these guys weren’t even funny, which was to him a little funny in its own. Theo didn’t mind his circumstance, but curiosity was saving his tongue for now. How long he would refuse to speak his mind was anyone’s guess.
A man walked towards him, he was dressed in burnt leather scraps with fresh, loose stitching. His face had the look of intoxication as he stood over Theo. Theo took a look at him, and then looked over to where his eyes were previously set. The sailor had a big fat gut that rubbed against the former squire as he leaned over and grumbled, “You got any mizas for me?”.
Theo looked at the sailors fat face, one of his eyes was lazy from all the drinking he had done. Popcampio squinted at him and gave him a half smirk, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards his cold iron blade, which had its hilt hidden underneath a burlap sack.
The scrap of a man darted his eyes from one side to another as his jaw dropped. His mouth hung for a minute in his drunk. “I’m sorry,” he said short and quiet. The fat sailor looked at Theo over his shoulder twice as he stumbled to the other side of the quarters.
…
It was a clear night. The sky had forgotten its clouds, and the moon was absent, but the stars were bright as could be in the first days of Spring. All that was heard was the force of the waves that calmly rocked the open Suvan Sea and its passengers. Most of the crew had chosen to get their rest below deck while the weather was calm. A half dozen sailors hung out on the deck, but they themselves were suffering from boredom and tiredness. Only the first mate had any true attention to the situation at hand, but he was a nervous fellow and dared not speak out against the sailors, even though they were his inferiors. On the midship, below all of them, Theo practiced on a leftover wooden dummy.
Left, right, up, down A hypothetical strike came down parallel to a hypothetical guard, which was hypothetically broken by the blow. Quickly, another hypothetical foe took up a hypothetical stance and hypothetically began attacking Theo, who hypothetically countered and began walking his steps backwards before taking his slash at his hypothetically foe, who hypothetically…
“AHH!” Theo slashed the dummy parallel with long, swinging blows, knocking it down into pieces with sweeping motions. Theo couldn’t make sense of the world any longer. Who was he, why was he here?
Sighing, he began a shadow fight, he imagined it was the blonde girl who tried to take him captive in the forest. One swipe to the right was followed by another in the same direction. And then Theo was swinging without direction at air.
Your mother wouldn't approve of me.