Odellia slowly came into plain view; it was not large, Kelton thought, or perhaps it was just still very far off. The sea seemed to play tricks with distance. However, from what he could tell, it was a smallish island, perhaps the size of a large metropolis. As they neared, Kelton could see that the landscape was dotted with small villages, at least on the side that the ship was approaching. It wasn’t a perfect option for him - too small and it would be hard to disappear, or to come up with a way to explain his sudden appearance that wasn’t tied to the ship. It would have to do, though, Kelton thought. Maybe he was being impulsive, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to get out while it was still possible. In this, at least, he could execute some semblance of control.

The majority of the crew went about their work, as silent and disinterested as ever, but Kelton managed to get a minute with one of the men who seemed otherwise unoccupied. He told Kelton that it wasn’t an island at all; Odellia was a peninsula. They had reached the eastern edge of the continent of Lezseka. Kelton nodded and walked away, trying hard to contain his excitement at the news. This changed everything for him; a whole continent. Surely this was the place to make his disappearance, he thought - he just needed to figure out how to get away. That would be quite an issue, unless he happened to be lucky enough to be sent ashore. Strange that a supposedly "free man" had to try so hard to escape his situation, Kelton reflected bitterly, but he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself. Besides, maybe it would all work out, and the captain would order him off the way he was supposed to.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. As they approached the harbor, the shift leader came to Kelton and told him he was assigned to do cargo organization below deck - he’d be given a lading list and would need to pull the crates and barrels that were to be unloaded here. Kelton started to head downstairs, positive now that they didn’t intend to let him leave, at least of his own free will. What to do though? Should he hide in the cargo? Start unloading things himself and then make a break for it? He would be found, he was certain. However, Kelton had noticed in his many hours of washing the deck that there was a blind spot, near the back of the boat, directly under the captain’s window.

Kelton may have been removed from his young childhood as a thief for many years, but he was still certain he could pick a simple lock, if it came down to it. He proceeded with the job assigned for an hour or two, and then when he knew he wouldn’t be noticed, made a beeline for the captain’s quarters, whose entrance was luckily nearby. Just as expected, the door was locked, but it had been secured with a simple, large lock that could have been picked by a blind man - it was no trouble at all to get in. Kelton shut the door behind him and made his way to the window, noticing a small chest; what appeared to be the “working money” was inside. He couldn’t safely get out the whole chest, but he did grab a handful of coins and secure them into a small pouch hanging off the captain’s large chair, which he threw over his shoulder before dropping out the open window into the water below.

I hope I didn't just make a terrible mistake, Kelton thought. The water was terribly cold. It wasn’t anything like arctic conditions, and he thought that he could survive in it for as long as he needed to, but Kelton was chilled to the bone nearly instantly. His instinct was to swim for shore as soon as he could, but he was certain that he’d be spotted. Before long, Kelton heard the muffled sounds from above deck of people looking for him, and calling him. He’d clearly been missed, and the voices didn’t seem worried, but angry. He hugged the side of the boat, treading water, and attempted to concentrate enough to plan his next move.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waves began to get bigger, and stronger, pushing him further into the side of the boat. It was starting to become darker, too - but not dark enough for safety. It seemed as if the tide was coming in, which would start to cause problems for their departure. Perhaps the crew was planning on spending the night in Odellia? Or were they looking for him? Soon enough, he’d be crushed or swept under the boat by the waves, he’d have to do something now or this would all be for naught.

While the moon was clearly visible, Kelton wanted to wait until it was as dark as possible before he completed his escape. Only when he became afraid that he would lose the strength to fight against the tide if he waited any longer did he push off, trying to swim parallel to the boat for a while in hopes that he wasn’t spotted, as the tide brought him ashore. Unfortunately for Kelton, who had little frame of reference and virtually no ability to compete with the eyes of a dozen or so motivated men, his attempt at stealth didn't last long. He was quickly spotted and shouts echoed everywhere - he should have known, he thought, that if they were still here they were probably looking for him, and would have all eyes out. He wished he knew why, but his immediate concern was getting up and getting away before they were able to get a party to him and re-capture him.

Kelton managed to pull his weary body out of the surf and climb to his feet. After just a few seconds of catching his breath, he made a break for it, allowing fear and adrenaline to override the aches and pains threatening to drop him at any moment. Although he desperately wanted to find shelter, Kelton knew that he had to make more distance, until the effort of hunting him down outweighed whatever they had to gain. If they were simply what they had claimed to be at first, they wouldn’t hunt him down at all - after all, he was a free man, and had been delivered outside of Juldania, which was supposedly what they had been paid to do. Still, Kelton was positive that there was more to the story than that, and he couldn't afford to find out if he was right or not.

The coast was rocky, and not far inland was a deep and thick forest. Kelton had to make a decision - the forest would obscure him better, but it was likely more dangerous, and he was no woodsman. He had scarcely ever left Khartok before his exile, and mostly when he had, it was only to his apothecary garden and greenhouse on the outskirts. Kelton made what progress he could, skirting the edge of the forest for as long as he was able, then ducking in and sitting for a while; as soon as he had counted out ten minutes he forced himself to move again. He progressed this way for hours, under the stars.

Confident that he had eluded his pursuers at this point, he continued in hopes of finding a safe place to sleep, but adrenaline had long ago worn off, and every step felt like being dragged through mud. He eventually came to an open field, and in it Kelton saw a small free-standing, open-sided structure with a thatched roof; it was the kind of shelter that was used by shepherds when they took their herds out grazing. It would do for tonight, Kelton thought, and curled up on the hard ground, then promptly fell asleep as if dead.