“There is a strange compulsion amongst these people, one found mostly in their slaves I’ve noticed. They always speak of a “Back home”. They talk as if their “home” is as divine as God itself. I met with one of them, a Rigin woman, who told her children of a place I remembered well, as the country itself was put to the torch by my orders only a few months ago. When I told them the news of their precious “Home”, the mother bowed her head in shame, I suspected she already knew. But her children simply shook their heads, as if I had said the most appalling thing, the most bold-faced lie imaginable. “Nuh-uh”, they replied, as starry-eyed as the night sky. “I bet our home is pretty, just like mutter said.” I found it quite strange. It makes a man think though. Just what hardships could a soul endure, to think of roaring fires and brutal warhorns, as wonderful as the heat of a hearthfire and the embrace of loved ones?” ~Journal excerpt from Acting General Andrien Regullis.
Part 1:
She tightened the grip on the railing, the ship lurching to the side suddenly, almost making her fall over. She wheezed as her stomach suddenly pressed against the wooden guard rails as her thin body barely concealed by the even thinner cloak she wore doubled-over it, giving Emraku a perfect sight of the churning black waves below. As the waves churned and rolled against the side of the boat, she could see her reflection shifting in the waves below, her reflection as uncertain as she felt herself. While most of her thin body was hidden underneath a cloak, her serpentine face was plain for all to see. Why wouldn't she show her face off? Her red eyes, pointed reptilian snout that was a staple of her people, ivory white scales with accents of purple, like a beautiful and rich wine had been poured over her scales, was an absolutely stunning sight for all to see, except in the waves below of course. Watching her own beauty shrivel and shake, shifting in the black waves below her, she could already imagine it, imagine herself falling clean over the side and into those depths, falling, sinking. Drowning. She grunted with sudden exertion as she pushed herself up, her cloak threatening to rip as it caught on a nail. She fell back, giving another grunt as she hit the wall behind her, only to grumble something under her breath, forked tongue flicking behind her teeth as she yanked on the cloak, freeing it from the nail’s grasp, and tearing off a piece of its end, which floated away into the deep blue skies. “If the sea can’t have your bloated corpse, I’m not surprised it’ll at least take a piece of you. Now it remembers you, and it’ll finish the job next time.”. Even though he was miles away, far away from her, Emraku could imagine his voice as clear as day in her mind. She’d been hearing a lot of things in her mind lately, now that she thought about it. Ever since she left for that strange letter she got, her mind had been under an almost constant assault, one that made her head ache just thinking about it. Her hand wrapped around her forehead, giving another groan as the ship lurched again and-
“You okay there, lass? Yer scales are turning green.”
It was the first voice that wasn’t in her head, and that fact alone was enough to make her jump, tearing her head out of her hand to see the shipmaster, a concerned looking half-thing. A half-man. He always despised those things. “Annoying little runts” he’d say. "Should just stay in their nasty little caves."
“Yes, yes I-... I am as well as I can manage.” She could barely manage those words alone. And from the look on his face, she knew he could tell.
“Not built for the sea, ey? Don’t blame ya.” The man grinned nonchalantly, before taking up a casual lean next to her, as at home with the sea as a fly with rotting meat. “She’s a cruel master, takes far more than she gives. But if you catch her on her good side, she can at least treat ya nicely… every now and then at least.” A mischievous chuckle left his chaffed, scarred lips, one Emraku did not appreciate.
“She sounds rather cruel, then. What kind of master treats people like that? After all, we are guests in her domain.” The half-thing looked surprised by her word choice, despite her haughty tone, before grinning warmly this time, reaching into his coat pocket.
“Aye. We are simply guests in her reign, at her mercy. But, I like ta think, she’s the nicest master out there in the world. Because I’ve never met a king, queen, or lord as unbiased, and indifferent as she.” He retracted his scarred, wrinkled hand, the sign of a worker, to offer her a smoking pipe. “It oughta ease yer nerves. My treat. A proper welcome to the Sea’s domain.”
She smiled, the first time she’s done so since she began this voyage from her home, from Him, as she knelt down, sitting down to be eye-level with the kind shipmaster as she accepted his offer. For a moment, she forgot about what he thought. He wasn’t here to tell her what to think, after all, and right now, that was a comforting thought. As she cupped her hand over the light, he struck a pair of flint and steel together, an accessory rarely seen amongst anyone other than wanderers and adventurers, lighting the pipe. She took a deep inhale, feeling the smoke of the pipe-grass filling her inhuman lungs, before she let it out in a slow stream of green smoke through pointed nostrils. He pulled the pipe away once she was finished, taking a puff himself, and like a lazy dragon resting in the sun, he spewed out a casual, relaxed smoke ring, before shooting her a grin, yellowing teeth revealed behind the Shipmaster's worn lips. Now that Emraku could look him over properly, she could see that despite the Half-man's age shown in his graying hairs and ragged beard, he still looked undeniably youthful in his Captain's hat and thick blue coat. Perhaps it was simply the height difference between the two, Emraku needing to sit down completely to be eye-level with his standing. A part of her wanted to say it out loud, to just say outright how she was racially better than he was simply off of height alone. Not to mention appearance, power, or any other reason she could’ve come up with. It would’ve made her feel better about herself, more in control. He would’ve wanted her too. She was lucky she didn't.
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“So Lass.” He broke the silence between them before she could, probably with some racially insensitive comment slipping out past her lips. “What brings a sea-sick girl like you all the way out here to the middle of the Craters?”
"The craters? Is that what you pe-" She caught herself, the Shipmaster raising an eyebrow, before she finished. "Is that the name for these oceans?"
"So it is, Lass. Not from round the isles, eh?" Emraku shook her head at his question, wondering if he could already tell she wasn't from her earlier seasickness. "When the God made these lands, they rained down rocks and earth from the sky, making the oceans out of the craters left behind, and the isles from the earth left over." He finished his tale with another puff of his pipe, before he asked again. "Now. Just what is it that brings you out here? Look like you're some noble girl, but I don't know much about you snakes and yer ways. I'd hate ta be rude."
Emraku bit her lip before she answered, mulling over whether or not she could be honest about her intentions. "I heard the rumors, the ones of the beast on the Island. I came to help?" Her voice trailed off at the end, Emraku saying it not as an answer, but as a question that he had to validate. The shipmaster laughed, getting an irritated look from Emraku. "I'm serious! I'm quite adept with these things."
"I'm sure ya are, lass. Just not sure if we're talking about the same "rumors". Y'know…" He rolled his hand as he spoke, searching for the right words before she spoke again, his hands going out in grand gestures as he spoke. "The rumors of that great Wyrm, the one that made an entire town sink into the ground, the one that stretches over the length of the island itself twice over and weighs as much as the sky? That rumor, right?" His obvious amusement at her determination was enough to make her shrink back, to which the shipmaster chuckled, continuing. "Bah, I'm sure you've got some tricks up your sleeve. You snakes are pretty interesting creatures, aye?"
Emraku had to bite her tongue to make sure she wouldn't snap at him, not sure if he was being insulting, curious, or both. If it was, it was well deserved. "We certainly are curious. Quite strong creatures, as well, so I'm more than prepared for this coming battle."
While she showed some restraint, her own form of it, the shipmaster didn't. "Hehe, well well. Miss snake princess 'ere is ready to take on the whole world, huh? Just why are you out here, ay? People don't help with things like this unless they want something. Usually riches. The real zealous want salvation. Criminals want redemption, or death. You don't strike me as either." He spoke with his curiosity bared, like fangs ready to strike out. He eyed her over again, a gesture which caused a sense of discomfort to blossom in her chest. She stood up, wobbly, forcing herself to stand before leaning against the guardrail for comfort and support both.
"My husband wills it." She finally caved, and though it was a rather strange answer, the Shipmaster could tell it was genuine. "He wants me to come home with a grand and glorious story for our children, to give them an example, a goal to strive for. He's such a smart man." She spoke with adoration in her words, laying her praise on as thick as honey. "He's so brave too, tells us all of his own stories during his time. I would do anything for him."
"Including doing this? Including your suicide?" His question was as sharp as a knife in the dark, sudden enough to make her practically recoil against the railing in shock that anyone would even suggest such a thing, before forcing her gaze out towards the sea.
"This task is great, but it is not a suicide. I will not die. I can not. He wills it so." She steeled her nerves, forcing herself to relax and put her faith in his will. She heard the shipmaster sigh behind her, before he spoke again.
"Ye ever been baptized, miss? Reborn in the great waters of the seas, in the name o’ God?"
Emraku nodded at the question, though whether she was or not wouldn't change the man's mind, as he silently stepped behind the distracted serpent, putting his pipe down into his coat pocket.
"Think of this like that then."
Before she could process his words, his rough calloused hands grabbed at her ankles, and with a strength she'd've expected from a man three times his size, he threw her into the air, head over heels making her flip in the air. Clear over the railing. The water met her flailing body with a cold indifference and silenced her scream with a frigid grasp. The sea cared not who she was, why she was here, or what she wanted. It didn't care at all. Perhaps that's what made her the best ruler, the sea's cold, uncaring indifference. The sea would not care whether she lived or died, as Emraku slowly sank underneath the freezing, black waters of the sea, and the Shipmaster sailed on, as uncaring as the waters that should've been her grave.