The gentle waves of the ocean slowly taps against the wooden exterior as the boat you’re on slowly rocks back and forth, lulling you into a fake sense of calm. The past few days have been agonizing as the chains on your hands have been digging deeper into your flesh. But you seem to be doing the best out of everyone in the same situation. Having spent your entire life working on a farm has hardened your now callused skin. Many of the others onboard the ship have not had the same lifestyle and are now crying out in pain as the heavy iron chains weigh down upon them. The solemn mood on the ship ironically called “freedom” only gets worse as days go by.
It has now been around two weeks since the bloody event in Fagravik. The things you saw during that day still creep into your thoughts just before sleep overtakes you during the nights. The rolling head of Hadi laying there on the uneven cobbled floor is seemingly stuck on repeat behind your eyelids, and only the sweet slumber of sleep releases you temporarily from the pain. But there is an even heavier weight on your mind.
For fifteen years have you lived together with your family, sharing both hardships and happiness together. You survived the harsh winters where many before you had perished. Together, you revelled in the happiness of summer while reaping the rewarding harvests while everyone shared the work’s toll with one another. Now you’re stuck in this pit filled with the stench of soiled trousers and vomit sloshing from one side of the ship to the other as it rocks on the waves.
There is one big silver lining in all of this chaos. If by chance or by some wicked sense of pity, some of your best friends are put together with you on the boat. This makes the endless days at sea feel a bit more bearable.
“Fucking bastard,” Orvar says, as he looks to the stern of the ship.
In the corner there are five children, none older than four years old, huddled together in a makeshift blanket made from everyone’s clothes tied together. It isn’t much, but it provides some heat and comfort for their small bodies on the cold and unforgiving sea.
A knuckle hits the deck of the ship with a loud thud.
“I’ll made them pay. I’ll make every single one of the dead-beat good-for-nothings wish they were never born,” Orvar continues as his fist bounces back from the hardened wooden deck and starts to swell.
A red-headed girl sitting next to Orvar chimes in.
“You got a death-wish? They’ll hear you and throw you overboard right now! Can’t believe how stupid you can be sometimes.”
Orvar clicks with his tongue and starts scraping away at the wooden deck with his fingers.
“I know, Astrid. It just pissed me off, is all,” he answers.
You sit together in a small ring with your friends Orvar, Astrid, and Astrid’s cousin Eldrid. Orvar is the same age as you, while Astrid is a year older, and Eldrid is 10 years old. You and Orvar spent most of your childhood together playing in the woods and cooking up schemes in town. You ventured into the deepest forests and climbed the tallest of mountains while searching for treasures of untold value. You never found any, of course, but it was fun imagining the piles of gold just waiting to be found. The only place you did not dear venture into was the Black Forest, as that one would most likely end very badly. There are some things in this world simply not worth awakening from their slumber.
Astrid has always had a fiery spirit, standing up to even the tallest and strongest of men, but is smart enough to know when not to speak up. Her bright, red hair compliments her explosive attitude and carefree spirit in life. Even if she is older than you and Orvar, you have already grown past her as her growth seemed to have stopped, but it doesn’t stop her from challenging you physically if the need arises.
You met Astrid a few summers back at the marketplace when Orvar had a most “brilliant” idea, as he often has. He thought your adventures needed a bit more flair. A bit more reality in them instead of just chasing fake treasure in the forest. He wanted to emulate the rush of adrenaline you’d feel in a real chase, and what better way to do that than a real one. You reluctantly followed him as he just wouldn’t let it go. You found the meanest looking merchant and quickly snatched some of his wares as you made a mad dash through the marketplace all while throwing taunts at the man. Weighed down by your newly acquired goods and having significantly shorter legs than the grown man, it didn’t take him long to catch up to you. He grabbed you by the ears and “escorted” you to a nearby alley. Just before punishment could be meted out, the merchant toppled over in pain while holding onto his groin. Bright red flashed in the morning sun as a young girl stood on the other side of the now toppled over merchant. In that moment you were entranced by the girl as she looked so beautiful in the moment., but less so when you got to know her.
You hastily dropped the stolen wares and apologized to the merchant while running away with your new party member. Since then, the three of you became inseparable and were often seen in town together, mostly arguing over some plan that Orvar had hatched up in that weird brain of his.
On the ship there are also a dozen or so other teenagers of varying ages being transported. You don’t recognize most of them which leads you to believe that they are most likely not from Fagravik, but instead picked up from other nearby towns. They don’t speak much even when Orvar tried to talk to them and keeps mostly to themselves, huddled up by the sides of the ship.
“Where you think they’re taking us? No one’s said anything since we set off and there’s nothing to do on this floating junkyard,” Orvar says while continuing to try to etch something onto the floorboards.
Yesterday when the others were sleeping, you were woken up by the voices of the slavers on the deck above you. They had talked about “dumping them as fast as they can.” You couldn’t make out any specific words, but you could make an educated guess if you had a map handy.
And surely enough, they didn’t notice the map you had gotten from the old merchant which is safely tucked into a seam in your shirt. You open up your map and gaze at its contents. Trying to recall all of the information you had heard from other travelers; you make an attempt at ruling out possible kingdoms that the slavers would not be able to sell you in.
Valaria is kingdom that takes pride in its military and focuses on quality over quantity. It may not have a big levy, but they certainly make it up by schooling the most elite faction of warriors in all the kingdoms. You don’t recall much about their political standings, but after the events in Fagravik, you see some doubts about northern slaves being sold in Valaria as they are supposedly in some secret alliance with your hometown.
Aemeria is mainly a trading nation, having established naval connections to many parts of the world. Naturally, their navy has become the strongest in the seven kingdoms and hold monopoly on many of the trade routes in exchange for keeping pirates at bay from other kingdoms seaside settlements and ports. Aemeria has a long history with your kingdom and most traders that visit come from Aemeria, so selling you there would most likely not be a smart move.
The Bourgenon Kingdom takes its pride in their lush farms and manufacture all kinds of different produce using these farms which they then export to different kingdoms. The kingdom itself has no direct access to the ocean and rely on trade routes by land. You haven’t any traders directly from the Bourgenon Kingdom, but some of their wares have made it all the way to Fagravik.
In a similar fashion to the Bourgenon Kingdom, Kazentia doesn’t have direct access to the northern ocean where you are right now. The slavers will have to make a serious detour around the entire continent if they want to reach the Kazentian mainland.
The Holy Kingdom, as its name suggests, is the capital of the most widespread religion in the seven kingdoms. They worship the One True God, Rayzien, and believe that one day he will descend upon the lands once more and purge all heathens. Currently there is a struggle of power as a schism has effectively split the church’s beliefs in two. Infighting has become a regular occurrence and they have mostly secluded themselves from any outside visitors as they attempt to rectify the situation.
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The free cities are not a kingdom per se, but a coalition between different major cities in the region. They have their own governing bodies and act independently from each other, even declaring war for territory or other petty squabbles. Only when an outside military source meddles in their affairs do they band together and defend their territory, even going on the aggressive side. Together, they have a strong military and could be a serious threat to the other kingdoms if only they wouldn’t fight amongst each other so much.
After a few moments of contemplation, you reach the conclusion that the slavers must be taking you to the Free Cities, there’s no doubt about that. Your friends look at you expectantly as you spent several minutes looking over the map.
“I think the most probable kingdom is The Free Cities, as it’s the closest one to Fagravik and has the least number of relations with the north. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the travelers and merchants that have visited our town,” you say confidently.
“Damn, man,” Orvar says impressed. “I know you spent a lot of time talking to the foreigners, but I’m impressed you got this much out of them. The ones I’ve spoken to barely speak our language.”
It is true that most travelers barely speak the same language you do, but with some charades and pointing on the map, it’s not that hard to find connections and convey general information. Most travelers were also more than happy to teach an inquisitive young soul about how the outside world works. When you weren’t out adventuring with Orvar and Astrid or helping around on the farm, you often found yourself drawn to the various outlandish stalls or the inn where most foreign travelers made a pit-stop on their longer journey. After a few mugs of mead, they were happy to talk about their own kingdom’s politics and general knowledge of the areas. You were quite unique in this aspect, as the other locals generally only concerned themselves in the local politics and couldn’t care less about the political intrigue about nations they would never visit in the first place.
“What can I say, I must simply be a genius,” you say as you hold your chest up high.
“Yeah, good work, Thorfinn. Knowing where we’re going to end up at least puts some ease on the mind. This entire situation just seems so… surreal,” says Astrid.
So far, Eldrid has remained silent as she doesn’t know you or Orvar that well. She had spent most of her time with other children closer to her age which were not on the ship either because they were not first-borns, or they were put on another ship.
“What does it matter if we know where they’re taking us…” Eldrid says, looking at the floor. “Don’t you people understand? We’re slaves. Slaves! We’re going to be sold to some creep. We won’t ever be free to do anything we want, ever again. You talk like we’re going on a vacation. Are you that stupid?” she continues as tears start streaming down her face. “I won’t ever see mum or dad again. I’m going to die here, no way will I survive.”
Astrid embraces the crying girl as tears start forming in her eyes as well. Reality starts to sink in amongst you and your friends as you realise this boat trip is probably the closest you might ever get to freedom. And it might also be the last time you see each other again. Would anyone buy you together? Is that even how it works?
“Come on,” you say. “We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but we need to be at our best. We don’t know that all slaves have it bad, and I will certainly fight until the bitter end. As long as we keep our heads high, we will surely find a way.” You’re not completely certain that you believe your own words, but it seems to have at least stopped the little girl’s tears from flowing down her cheeks as it turns into a light sniffle.
Raindrops start pattering against the wooden hull of the ship. The shoddily built deck of the frigate, “Freedom”, that you find yourself on has a number of cracks in it which allows the rain to slowly drop into the cargo hold where you and the other slaves are currently trying to sleep. Each drop of water only grows your annoyance as sleep is even harder to come by.
Drip. Drip.
Multiple small holes are positioned right above you, each drop landing square on your forehead. The weather had picked up during the night and orders can now be heard being shouted on top of the deck, coupled with a few curses from the seasoned sailors. Strong gusts of wind start hurling across the vast ocean, crashing right into the side of the heavily used frigate. The waves outside grow with each gust of wind that passes which only increases the ship’s heavy rocking.
Crash!
Another huge wave sends water spiralling down into the cargo hold. The ship rocks back and forth in a sickening motion causing many to hurl onto the already wet floor. Disgusting puke from malnourished children carry across the now ankle-high water bringing with it a nasty stench from yesterday’s meagre meal. But that has proven to be the least of your worries. The ship was clearly not built with quality in mind, or someone has simply brushed past the idea of repairing her as more holes and splinters begin appearing in the hull. No one knows how strong the storm has become as looking through the small holes proves to be difficult to measure the wave’s length. All you know is that it certainly is not looking good.
The screaming coming from up top intensifies as one sailor that was on top of the rigging loses his grip and falls into the darkness of the ocean.
“Man overboard!” someone yells.
“Fuck him, keep going!” another one screams.
Inside the cargo hold, you and your friends are holding onto a pole in the centre of the ship in an attempt to keep your balance.
“We’re going to drown,” says Orvar. “My grandma could build a better ship than this floating pile of junk.”
As he finished his sentence a huge splash resonates from outside the frigate. A deep, alien hum follows right after it as multiple screams of agony become more apparent on top of the deck.
“What the hell was that? That wasn’t a wave,” said Astrid while frantically trying to peek through a crack up top. “Wha- They’re leaving!”
You rush to the crack and peek outside. A dozen sailors are frantically trying to get a small dingy into the water as the waves have grown as high as the boat itself.
“They’re leaving on a small dingy in this storm?” you exclaim. “Are they completely mad?”
Orvar is currently looking through another, bigger opening in the deck a bit to your side, which gives a sight line of the mast. “Umm, guys… I think I know why they’re leaving.”
You look over to Orvar in confusion. You are all soaking with the water that is currently flooding the cargo hold of the ship. Streams of water is desperately trying to escape through holes in the ship’s hull, but the careening torrents come in faster than it can escape.
“The mast…” Orvar squeals. “Move!”
As he uttered the final words, a huge crack resonates through the entire boat. The tall mast which had lasted a dozen storms prior comes crashing down in one fell swoop, cracking in the middle. It lands on the already weak deck and crashes down with a loud bang. The fragile wooden floor gives way and splinters are sent flying across the hold.
You quickly take cover behind an empty barrel, which proves to be somewhat effective as the shrapnel ricochets off the sturdy wood, leaving you mostly unharmed after the entire ordeal save a few scratches.
The others in the hold are not as lucky as you. Pools of blood start to flow in the now knee-high water while you frantically search for your friends. In a corner you can see the children who are now desperately trying to stay above the water as it’s starting to get too deep for them. Orvar, Astrid, and Eldrid emerge from behind one of the pillars, seemingly unscathed.
After only a few moments, the children get completely submerged under the water as their screams of pain are muted in the murky water. Another alien screech can be heard outside of the ship as a huge wave comes crashing into the hull, rocking it hard to the side which causes you to lose your balance. Water overtakes you as you try to crawl up, ignoring the sickening feeling when the cold water penetrates your nostrils. A huge chunk of the hull to your side gets ripped open, sending planks flowing outward into what looks like an underwater whirlpool. You try to desperately hold onto a pillar, but the pull is too strong and you are hurled outside the ship. Scrambling to find which way is up, the retreating ship becomes naught but a silhouette in the distance as you are pulled deeper into the dark and cold depths. Your lungs start filling up with water as the oxygen left is no longer sufficient to keep your body functioning and starts to slowly shut down. You can no longer move your limbs and start to float helplessly in the now complete darkness. The deep, alien rumbling sounds returns, now louder than ever. Ripples are sent through the water as shockwaves touch your body, pushing you helplessly around the depths. You see a bizarre shape somewhere in the distance, but can’t quite make out what it is, until an enormous, yellow light starts to appear from within it. In the centre of the light is a black spot, bigger than the frigate you just found yourself on. Inside it you can see shining stars moving around in intricate patterns and something that looks like big orbs slowly pulsating, giving off different hues of purple and green. What you now understand is an eye stares at you intently as you slowly lose consciousness. The rumbling returns and you think you can make out words being spoken in a language you have never heard before, but oddly enough you understand.
“Not your time… Chosen.”
Guess this is what the afterlife is like… you think to yourself in your final moments before darkness overtakes you. The humming becomes but a distant thought as you let out the remaining air in your lungs.
From the depths, tentacles come rushing towards you. Dark, sinister looking shapes are but a few steps away from you as you finally succumb to the darkness creeping in from all sides. A disgusting, wrapping sensation is the last you can feel before the void takes a hold.