Solo Blown off Course

[Albitau Redeye]

5th of Spring, 513 Albitau clung to the railing of the wildly rolling and pitching ship like a drowning rat. His ruby eyes were shut tightly closed, his teeth gritted in rage as his white hair whipped around. He could feel the earth rising up underneath him, then plunging him downward in a hail of seawater. He was drenched from head to foot, somewhere his gelding was screaming in the hold below. The frantic shouts of the crew and the suspicious groaning of the ship like a harpooned animal. The albino had attached himself to one of the rails near the mizzenmast on the gun deck. At first he had roared at the crew to get their own goddamn ship under control, but now he was realizing just what a bad situation they were in. He had one leg curled around the railing, and dared to open his eyes. He looked down almost on instinct, and saw the sea fall away below them, the back half of the ship rising up on the back of a wave. His stomach rose up into his throat as they crashed back down, raining freezing water down on the deck. He'd been informed they'd been blown off course, as the captain had been shrieking like a banshee at the navigator for the past ten minutes. They were somewhere north, not at all where they had been headed! The ship from Cyphrus was supposed to be headed south, but the storm gale had been herding them slowly and persistently north for half a day, determined to chew the ship to pieces. Albitau heard a terrifying groaning of the mizzenmast above him, and lifted his head. The sails were whipping around angrily, torn free from the mast. With a rip one of the sails flew off into the darkness, and the mizzenmast cracked. Albitau threw himself from the railing, scrambling down the gun deck onto the main. Here he could barely keep his feet, seawater sloshed back and forth. The shrieking of his horse was only making matters worse. Albitau looked back at where he had been clinging and saw the mizzenmast slowly fall toward the main. The two great pieces of timber crashed into one another, shards whistling off into the blowing wind and rain. The timbers beneath him were shuddering, the entire ship groaning. Albitau ran down the stairs past the galley, then into the hold itself. His horse had torn free of his halter and was standing knock-kneed in the middle of the hold, bellowing his displeasure. The rocking here was worst; the human could feel how the sea crashed and beat against the bottom of the boat. Here and there cracks were spraying water into the hold. "Calm the hell down you stupid bastard!" Albitau roared at the gelding. He knew the animal wouldn't dare rear with his feet being unstable as it was, but his eyes were wide and rolling and his legs were shaking more than the ship. The albino grabbed the horse by the forelock and yanked his head down to look him in the eye. "We're getting out of here, but you have to be sane and not fucking kick me, right?" he snarled. The gelding panted, his nostrils flaring and foam around the corners of his mouth. Terror had taken over his entire being. Albitau heard the ship groan again and the frantic shouts of the men above. He heard something large smash against the side of the ship and he let go of the gelding, grabbing a fistful of his mane and beginning to slowly lead him toward the stairs. The gelding refused to move at first, his neck straining toward his master, but Albitau yanked roughly and the gelding followed. More cracks were appearing in the hold, and Albitau had no choice but to be rougher on the terrified animal. When they finally reached the main deck his blood ran cold. The lifeboat had been lowered and had promptly been swung against the side of the ship like it had been punched, and had buckled part of the hold. He looked forward in the gloom and saw hope. Less than a mile away was the dark outline of an island on the horizon against the extremely early morning. Albitau didn't have a chance to consider his options. A loud roar overtook his hearing and the horse tore free of his grasp, leaving him with a hunk of hair for the split second before the wave swept both of them off the deck. •:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• When Albitau awoke he was laying on something soft, and cold. Warm winds blew over his body, though seawater still bathed his legs. He lifted himself up on his arms, feeling burns along his lower arms and hands from exposure. He spat out sand and opened his eyes, looking at the sparse treeline in front of him. He slowly rose to his feet, hair half dry. That told him he'd been laying there for a few hours. The sun was still rising, not not enough to cause severe damage to his albino skin but enough to give him a bit of reddening. He swore at the sight. He was not going to turn into a stringy piece of leather like a Zeltivan. His horse. He looked around frantically. There was no sign of the gelding. His heart fell until he saw a rather jagged line of hoof prints leading into the sparse vegetation. So he'd made it out alive, though gods only knew what was on this island. Wolves, worse? Albitau took a mental stock of himself. He still had his pack, and the tent was still tightly rolled up inside. He sat down on a rock and opened it. Everything was drenched. His food supply of dried meat and tinned bread had survived, and he thanked the gods he'd had the presence of mind to follow the Zeltivans' advice about tinning food against seawater. He unrolled the tent and layed it out on the rock, doing the same with his other things to get them to dry in the hot sun. He pulled out his brush and razor, laying them on a large flat rock. He couldn't let the razor rust. Speaking of rust...he looked down at his swordbelt, and fear clenched around his throat. Where was the sword? He shrieked in rage and threw down his pack, running along the beach. Pieces of broken wood, bits of rope were scattered here and there. The sword he found resting on the beach in the sun, and he snatched it up and drew it. A small gout of water came out, and his rage notched up. If he let the sword rust he'd never forgive himself. He seized a piece of sailcloth that had dried and scrubbed the blade until he couldn't see any more water on it. A half mile more down the beach and the broken husk of the ship came into view. With it, bodies. Albitau pursed his lips and looked at the few pale, dead men laying in the sun. Seabirds were already coming to take their fill, nipping at eyes and tearing off lips and fingers. He sneered at the sight and stomped over to kick the corpse of the one he recognized as the captain. "Steered us into a storm you stupid bastard!" he kicked him again and drew his sword, bringing it down on the Zeltivan's neck. The head rolled away into the water cleanly and the birds chased after it, cawing and fighting over the exposed meat. Albitau spat on the man's corpse. "Stupid Zeltivans. Some sailors." he looked at the ship, cracked open and laying teetered on its side in the sun like a broken coconut. "Let him go to Sylira, they said. He needs world experience, they said." he spat at the ship, angry at his own clan for unloading him. They'd told him to explore the world, to come back to them when he'd learned to control himself. Well he was off to a bloody good start now wasn't he? He had to find his horse. First and foremost. He took one more angry look at the headless body of the captain and stomped back down to his belongings. To his surprise, the gelding was roaming around, sniffing at his pack and looking hideously lost. At the sight of his master stomping down the beach in a dark mood, the gelding meekly slid up to him and butted his head against Albitau's chest. "You stink." Albitau shoved his head away and examined his pack. It was on the way to drying, but now he had a bigger concern; fresh water. He looked around the beach, the scrubland beyond. "Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud, lifting a hand to rake his iridescent hair back from his head. The horse whuffled piteously.

[Albitau Redeye]

Albitau ran his fingers through his salty hair. His things were dry, but one thing was certain; he had to get off the beach and establish a safe spot. He knew what the horse clans did when they were exploring a new area, and he'd participated in scout missions before, but he'd never done the dirty work. Albitau was an arrogant little thing, he hated getting his hands dirty. The fact that there was salt irritating his skin and his horse moaning at him to get him some water, food, bath, anything was making his temper flare. "Shut up!" he snapped at the horse. "Shut up shut up! I mean it! Let me fucking think you stupid animal!" He sat down on the sand and shoved his things back into his pack. Everything was covered in salt. He'd kill for fresh water, and that was the first thing he had to find. From the sparse vegetation he had to assume there was some source of fresh water, he just had to find it. He looked at the horse. The animal's tack was quickly crusted in salt, and Albitau knew what could happen to it if he didn't bathe the leather, and his horse, soon. He unbuckled the saddle and threw it and the sopping saddleblanket over his shoulders. "Come on." he muttered. "The sooner you sniff out water the sooner we can bathe." He traveled up the sand to the shoreline. A line of basalt jutted up out of the beach, forming a small wall that quickly rose to astonishing cliffs down the shoreline. Albitau would prefer to stay near the ship, there were things he could use and the dead bodies were excellent bait for crabs and seabirds. He had a meager source of very salty food, fresh water was the more immediate concern. He threw the tack up onto the basalt ledge and with some grunting yanked himself up. The horse whickered below him. "Down the shoreline there's a rise. Just down there, you should be able to do a small jump and get up." Albitau pointed down the shoreline but the gelding whickered and pranced nervously, afraid his master would leave him. Abusive and angry as the albino was, this entire island smelled strange and dangerous. He'd rather take a few slaps from Albitau than get eaten. "Down the...oh for fuck's sake." Albitau snatched up the tack and heaved it onto his back with a grunt, marching down the shoreline in wet boots to whistle the horse up an easier path. "There, are you happy? Come on." he grabbed the horse's forelock and pulled it gently to get the animal to quit staring at the scrub and follow him. He watched the horse sniff suspiciously at the twisted trunk of a small bush. "Don't eat anything!" Albitau snapped, and the gelding jerked his head up and grudgingly followed Albitau. The wind was hot and harsh. High above them in the distance was the crown of an enormous dead volcano. Albitau needed shade and water. He could feel sea water trickling down his back and irritating his skin. The salt was everywhere! In his hair, under and in his clothing, crusting on his legs and cracking his feet. The scrubland was harsh and hard to navigate, and he had to constantly stop the horse from eating everything in sight. He didn't know what was poisonous and what wasn't, and the horse seemed fairly indiscriminate about what he tried to stuff down his gullet. They tromped for hours before Albitau found a blessing. A tiny rivulet of rusty brown, clear water running through a tiny rent in the earth. He knelt and splashed his face with it. It smelled fetid and foul but ye gods, the salt was gone! He risked taking a sip and almost spat it out. It tasted hideous and bitter, but it was water. He hurriedly yanked off his clothes and bathed them in the stream. It was an arduous process, but he could feel the salt leaving the fabric. He hurriedly scrubbed his things and was about to move onto the horse blanket when something horrible seized his gut. He grabbed the horse's forelock as the animal sniffed at the water, dropping the horse blanket to hold his gut. His stomach was on fire, clenching and unclenching furiously. His guts gurgled angrily and he barely had time to turn away from the water before he began throwing up. He retched onto the dry sandy soil everything that had been in his stomach from the ship, and when his stomach was empty retched and gagged on the ground until his muscles were sore. The horse stared at him and knelt his head down to nuzzle Albitau's side. The boy had his forehead on the ground, coughing and retching. It took an hour, but the gagging stopped and Albitau finally raised his head to look at the treacherous little stream. "Bathing...ok....drinking...no." he mumbled, wiping his mouth and picking up the horse blanket with shaking hands. He washed the tack and leather until he was sure it wouldn't crack from the salt. Then, in an arduous process that took him until the sun went down, bathed the horse. It took forever and the animal wouldn't sit still, trying to get away from the stinking water. By the end of the day, they all smelled horrible. The tack smelled horrible, Albitau smelled like the bottom of a pond and the horse wasn't too well off either. But the damnable salt was gone. Albitau was still feeling horrible and queasy from the stream, and vowed not to use it again. There had to be something on the island to drink. The horse was flagging in strength and he had thrown up enough to make his entire front feel like he'd been doing sit ups all day. At this point he had two options. Sleep on a bedroll still wet from washing it in (not so clean) water, or sleep in a tree. He opted for the second. He found a dry, twisted tree that stretched out its canopy like an umbrella. The limbs were covered in a knotted, scaly bark that chafed his skin and the limbs were strong but stringy. He lashed himself to the trunk with the rope and closed his eyes. The horse stood below and slept. In the morning, Albitau was aware of a distinctive burning feeling on his skin. On his skin, up his nose, crawling. Crawling? He opened his eyes with a scream to find ants crawling all over his flesh, gnawing at his clothing. He scrabbled at the knot and fell out of the tree, racing toward the stinking stream. He rolled in it, trying to get them out of his nose, his mouth, his hair, his ears! Luckily, the ants didn't seem to like the water any more than he did and relented to go back to their tree. In rage, Albitau stomped on as many of them as he could, throwing up splashes of the brown water with his feet at them. Gods, he itched! The bites were angry red against his skin and the vain part of him wailed in agony.

[Albitau Redeye]

Albitau was sick. He knew it. His eyes were burning in his skull, and a haze had taken over his vision. He was riding the horse but the animal wasn't doing much better. His breathing was shallow, his eyes half-lidded and a distinctive cough had taken over his throat. He'd sprung nosebleeds, his mucus membranes slowly drying up to the point where his coughing sent tiny rivulets of blood from each nostril. His skin was blistering in the sun. With no melanin to protect it he'd put the saddleblanket over his head, the saddle resting against his back to prevent the worst of it. But the heat of being trapped underneath wool and leather was making him want to rip every bit of clothing he had off an run in the sun naked like an animal. Sweat dripped down his brow, valuable salts and water he was losing by the second. He rode like this for four hours, his fingers barely able to grasp the mane of his horse. He slumped against the gelding's neck. He knew the horse was desperately searching for water. Foaming blood was bubbling up against the nostrils of the animal, and his once-careful picking around of the territory became a slow, unsteady plod. Albitau woke up from his delirium twice. Once when the horse stumbled and nearly fell. The second when he fell off the horse. The gelding didn't seem to have noticed. He was walking in a straight line through very sparse grass towards something. Albitau was barely able to lift his head. "Stupid..." he hissed, flopping over on his stomach weakly. Then he heard something that made him breathe in sharply. The sound of water. He struggled up to his hands and knees, the burning soil making his palms scream in pain. The sun lashed against his back as he crawled, hand over fist, toward the small dark pool the horse had found. The horse had little preamble. He'd taken one look at the water, sniffed it, and plunged himself in up to the withers. Albitau didn't even question it at this point. He crawled until he could feel moist mud under his fingers and plunged his head into the water. Sweet, cool water met his lips and he drank like a madman, filling his stomach with sweet, sweet water. He hungrily downed the water and slid into it, his poor dehydrated skin soaking in it. He laughed, still in his mad delirium. Slowly the fuzzy parts of his vision disappeared and he could think again. He looked back and saw the saddle, the blanket, and his bag in a heap some feet away from the pool. He wasn't worried, the island seemed largely deserted. Who would steal his things? There wasn't anyone here. He looked at the horse, who hadn't stopped drinking. "Leave some for the birds would you?" he laughed. The horse snorted at him. Albitau laid in the water. "Wait..." he lifted his head up a bit higher, looking around them. "Oh gods...I don't know where this is..." The landscape had changed. He could still see the volcano but they were in a different part of the island. He could barely see the sea. "Of course the only goddamn water source and we're far away from the goddamn FOOD source!" he screamed in frustration, punching the water. He had planned to use the gulls and the crabs feasting on the dead crewmen for food. Now he had no idea where he was, and he didn't dare leave the water.

[Albitau Redeye]

Albitau washed the stink off of his clothes and hung them over bushes to dry. He made sure there weren't any of those evil ants about, though they seemed to focus themselves in trees where their giant orb-like nests clustered and not on the ground. The ground was sandy and horribly hard, but Albitau was enjoying not being dehydrated anymore. He drank himself sick, laying on the shore with his palms resting on his abdomen. "Fuck." he groaned happily. He was drunk on water, having glutted himself joyfully. The horse seemed equally happy, having folded his legs and happily settled down in the shallows of the pool. Albitau regathered his things and dried the saddle and blanket. He could ride now with the tack clean and dry, though he'd kill for some oil. He had to find food. He uncorked his canteen and filled it with the water, wishing he had something more to fill up with the crisp, clean water. He took one last mouthful and looked around the harsh landscape. To the west of him was a giant, desolate plain that looked as if it stretched on forever. Ahead of him, the mountain. To his left, he could barely make out the basalt cliffs. Either way, it looked unlikely that he'd find any animals here. He frowned and stood up, feeling fresh and like himself again. The gelding got to his feet next to him and grasped his shirt with his teeth, tugging at him sharply. "What? Hay? Are you mad?" Albitau smacked his nose lightly, making him pull away with a loud snort. "If you think I'm going to make a giant pile of hay appear out of nowhere so you can stuff your gullet you're insane. I'll find something for us to eat. Beach grass perhaps? I don't know if that's safe for you." he reached up and rubbed the horse's cheek, then began to gear up the horse. He put the saddlebags across his haunches and the tent roll above that, securely strapping the tent roll with two long lashes of leather coming out of the back of the saddle. "Alright. Let's get back to the beach and get your master a nice crab bake." he smirked and slung himself up into the saddle. He guided the horse back toward the cliffs, nervous about leaving the water. But his stomach was full and he no longer felt like a dried up piece of jerky. He was going to be very hungry in a few hours, he knew this, and another day would leave him weak. But after trying the water he was loath to try anything he didn't know about. He would reach the shore in a few hours, then he would have to go back to the water pool and take stock of things.