Warm Moon / 7 / 1218 A.F.
I wake up in the middle of the street again. Entire body’s stiff. Feet hurt like a bitch. Palm’s cold as hell. Feels like my entire chest is swimming with gunk. Head feels like it's encased in ice. I somehow manage to open my eyes and look up at the sky. Foggy. Can barely see a faint outline of the sun through the thick fog. I punch my chest, feel my throat rattle, roll over on my stomach, and clench my throat. Manage to heave out a lump of blue phlegm and watch it shrivel up on the moist pavement. I try to get up, but my limbs feel like they’re going to shatter.
Deep breath. Deep breath. I grope around in my pocket and feel a stick of blues still hanging in there. I dig it out and find that there’s barely half a finger’s length of the stick left. Even has a sheet of frost on it still. Better than nothing. I bang the stick against the street to knock the frost off then pop it into my mouth. A few hardy bites later, my body feels lighter. Number. Better. Head feels warmer too. Like someone just stuffed a bunch of hot cotton into my brain. I get up and hobble over back to The Tavern. Even though my body feels like garbage, I can’t detect any injuries besides my palm and my right foot, but that’s on me… Everything is where it should be. Pass through the lobby, resist the urge to order a beer, and reach Martha’s room once more.
shunk shunk
Huh. Locked. I bang on the door. “Hey, Martha. It’s me. Let me in.”
Before I can knock again, Martha opens the door ajar and peers at me. “What’s the password?”
“Piss off.” I rub my head and accidentally swallow some blues.
“Access granted.” Martha smiles, opens the door, and presents a shiny metal hand to me. “Got this bad boy in just an hour ago. Pop it on.”
I snatch the hand away from Martha and begin examining it. “Hm…” I can’t stop rubbing my fingers over it. My eyes can’t turn away.
“Like what you see?”
“The wrist axel feels smooth as a fresh wheel, but sturdier than a boar’s tusk. The palms and fingertips have nonstick grooves… The back of the hand is also reinforced with additional plating while adding on a negligible amount of weight… Just how strong is this?”
“Check it out.” Martha pulls a knife out of her cleavage and stabs the back of the hand repeatedly.
dink dink dink plink!
The knife snaps in two and part of it flies off and sticks itself into the wall beside us; and yet the back of the hand remains unscathed.
I pop the hand on my stump and move my fingers. Feels more natural than my actual hand. I don’t know what kind of tech or sorcery this thing is utilizing, but it feels good. Real good. “What did you have to do to get mods this good?”
“Nothing much.” Martha yawns and slides the broken knife into her hair. “Just had to look the other way on a few incidents.”
“‘Appreciate it.” I hug Martha tight before letting go and heading into the room.
Martha follows me in and closes the door behind me.
We find a freshly-showered David brushing his hair in one of the mirrors on the wall. His skin is flawless. Can’t see a single blemish, cut, scar, or pore aside from the huge bruise on his cheek. Hopefully that’ll change. Kid could use some scars. They build character. “David.” I wave.
“A-astrid!” David turns around and falls backward on the sofa like a scared pup. “I’m sorry! Don’t come near me!”
“Eh? The hell are you going on about?” I rub my ear. “Keep it down…”
“You don’t remember!?” David points to the huge bruise on his cheek and begins reaching for the trunk with the stone.
“Oooooh yeah. That was you.” I chuckle. “You should be proud. You handled that way better than I thought you would.”
Martha leans over my shoulder. “Actually, he cried for an hour.”
“Huh.” I crack my knuckles. “Shame.”
“You’re the shame!” David slings the trunk onto his back and stumbles side to side for a few moments like a drunkard. “I’m not travelling with a bully like you! I’m leaving!” David tries to take a step forward, only to fall backwards onto the trunk and flail about like a turtle.
“Bully? Aw, come on. That’s just rude.” I spit out the blues into a nearby spitoon and look down at him. “That bruise is a mark of honor around here. You’ll look like a total badass.”
“I don’t care.” David continues kicking his legs and rocking back and forth. “I refuse to spend another minute with a scoundrel like you.”
“So, Martha. How much was that noble offering again?”
“You wouldn’t dare…” David pulls a shortsword from his pocket and points it at me. “I’ll fight you. D-Don’t test me.”
I kick the sword out of his hand and watch it plunge into the wall. “Kid. Look. I just had a bad night, alright? I told you to do what I say and you didn’t listen. That one’s on you.”
“That’s no excuse to hit a child!”
“Yeah it is. If you’re stupid, you deserve to get hit. Now get up.” I offer him my hand. “We got a ferry to catch.”
“No! I’m leaving on my own.”
“What will you eat?” I keep my hand out.
“I’ll figure it out!”
“How are you going to pay for the ferry?”
“I… Somehow!” David tries to swat my hand away, but misses.
“Where is the ferry?”
David refuses to look at me and deflates like a leather balloon.
“Like it or not, kid, I’m the best deal you’re going to find this side of the continent.” I reach down and pull David up by his collar. “You’re taking me to Paradise whether you like it or not. Now get up.” I pull David off the ground and to his feet, yank the trunk off his shoulders, and point to the bed. Now wait there while I get ready.”
David opens his mouth, but no words come out. He nods and heads towards the bed like a tired sheep.
“Watch this, Martha.” I hand her the trunk and head off towards the shower. “Make sure the kid behaves too.”
“You got it, hun.” Martha picks David up by the collar and chucks him onto the bed.
A shower later and I feel alive again. Damn near feel like I got a new body. Mud and sweat’s out of my hair, bandaged up my wounds, dried myself up, got my armor and gear in place. Crossbow adjusted. Lance polished and filled with charges. Fresh pair of boots. Full canteen of sink water. Trunk on my back. Stone still in there. Looks just as glamorous as ever.
Step back into the room. Martha’s whispering something into David’s ear.
David wipes his eye and nods.
“Attaboy.” Martha rubs David’s head and gets off the bed. “Ya’ll ready?”
“Indeed.” I adjust my new hand.
“Then follow me.” Martha smiles.
Twenty minutes of walking later, Martha manages to escort us to the port out of town. Port’s a bit generous. It’s more like a single pier with two boats tethered to it. One of them’s a banged up fishing vessel, but it looks more suited for combat than fishing. Reinforced hulls, cannons, and a large harpoon gun mounted atop the deck. Marine mirages are not to be trifled with. The other boat is a transport vessel that looks built for speed above all else. No weapons. No reinforcements. The most impressive thing on this boat is the engine on the back. Any excessive weight has been discarded in favor of making the boat as fast as possible. No need to fight off mirages when you can just outrun them. It’s been a while since I’ve been on The Phantom. Hope she’s as smooth a ride as ever.
“Okay.” Martha pats me and David on the shoulders. “The ferryman owes me some favors. Just tell him ‘Martha has come to collect’ and he’ll let you on for free. Got it?”
“Yep.” I nod.
“Oh, and one more thing before you head out.” Martha fishes two small flasks from her bosom. “Here’s a little going away present. Consider it a good luck charm.”
“How generous.” I take a flask and shake it lightly. “What’s in it?” I pop it open and give it a whiff. Doesn’t smell like much… though that could just be my sense of smell going to crap.
“Lombard Merlot.” David takes a whiff from the canteen and coughs. “How did you acquire this?”
“None of your business.” Martha smiles and ruffles David’s hair. “How did you know that?”
“The smell…” David leans away from Martha. “I recognize it anywhere. One of the abbots brews it all the time.”
“Well then tell your abbot he should make more. People wanna buy.” Martha lets go and stretches her arms.
“I cannot do that. Selling a holy drink as a luxury item would be blasphemy.”
“What’s a little blasphemy between friends?” Martha asks.
“Can we go now?” David whines and looks up at me.
“Sure thing.” I pocket the flask and give Martha a quick hug. “We’ll be back before you know it. Take care of the dump while I’m gone.”
“Of course.” Martha returns my hug and rests her chin on my shoulder for a moment before letting go. “Can I auction off your locker if I don’t hear from you in a year?”
“Sure thing.”
“Hell yeah.” Martha gives me a little fist bump before shoving me towards The Phantom. “Now go! Kick some Lombard ass for me!”
“Will do!” I wave goodbye to her and board the ferry.
“Are we really going to kick Lombard butt?” David asks and follows behind me.
“If they ask for it.” I shrug. “Why? You got some Lombard friends?”
“I am a Lombard.”
“Oh trust me, it shows.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re no fun.”
We board the deck. It’s got railing that is eight feet tall and is covered in gating. The deck is just large enough for ten people to stand atop it with some space between them. If you don’t mind being packed like a sardine, you could feasibly carry twenty people atop the deck, but I’ve never seen that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more than six people on The Phantom at a single time. The sides, mast, and deck all look withered, but sturdy. I trust The Phantom more than I trust myself. It’s been running for ten years and hasn’t lost a single piece of cargo or a customer.
thunk thunk thunk
I hear wood clunking against wood and turn around to see The Captain. Withered old bastard. Glorious beard. Big pipe clenched between his dry lips. Long silver hair that goes down past his broad shoulders. Even has a peg leg that has a sword hidden inside; just in case. “Oh. It’s you again.” he glances at David and lights up his pipe. “Didn’t know you’d resort to slave trading.”
“Yeah neither did I.” I shrug and adjust the trunk on my back. “That’s life though. Martha has come to collect.”
“Did she now?” The Captain’s eyes glimmer. “Took her long enough. Damn near thought she forgot. We depart in two.” he begins turning around.
“How’s the forecast?”
“Bad.” The Captain blows out an indigo cloud and lets himself bathe in it. “If it weren’t for Martha, I wouldn’t even be heading out. Get below deck.”
“Will do.” I follow The Captain below deck. “Come on, kid.”
“Mm.” David nods and follows me.
A few steps later, and we get to The Quarters. There’s a cot in the corner with a thin blanket on it. The middle of the room has a short table surrounded by cushions. There’s some cards and half-empty beer bottles on the table. There’s an old lamp hanging from the ceiling. Looks like something a Lombard grandmother would have. It looks delicate and has a pair of moths bashing their heads against it. The right wall is completely covered by lists, charts, delivery invoices, and maps of the Fortuna River. The floor along the left wall is littered with boxes and cases of various origin and size. The wall across from us has reinforced windows, a small control console, and a large steering wheel. The wheel is the best kept thing on this boat. Not a scratch or blemish on it. Danger and time have not soiled it one bit. Just looking at it makes me want to give it a good spin.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The Captain limps over to the steering wheel and turns on the ignition. The Phantom awakens with a low, meaty roar and I can hear a thick fluid get pumped through the ship’s pipes and vents. “Attagirl.” The Captain rubs the control console. “Let’s go!” he mashes his peg leg against a floor switch and The Phantom shoves off into the foggy Fortuna River.
Ten minutes of complete silence passes. It’s nice. David’s trying to make a house of cards. I’m sampling some of the leftover beer. It’s all cheap. Feels like I’m drinking mushy bread… but - hey - it’s free.
David starts humming a song. To my surprise, it’s not annoying. It’s soothing even.
“Hey, kid.”
“Yes?” David flinches and his house of cards comes tumbling down.
“What’s that song you were singing?”
“It’s the Hymn of the Matriarch.” David nods. “Why do you ask?” his face lights up. “Are you interested in joining the Church?”
“Hell no.” I take another sip of beer and cough. “Just thought it sounded familiar.”
“Familiar? Have you been to one of our masses?”
“Wouldn’t catch me dead in one of those.” I shake my head.
“Then where could you have heard it?”
“I dunno.” I clear my throat. “Could be misremembering. Maybe it just sounds similar to something else.”
“I see.” David looks away from me and taps his fingers on the table. “May I continue humming?”
“I didn’t say stop.” I lie down on the floor and stare up at the moths.
David’s face relaxes. “Thank you.” he resumes humming. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so interested in Paradise? You don’t seem like you’d be interested in Lombard legends.”
“Your church doesn’t own Paradise.” I yawn. “And that’s a stupid question. Who wouldn’t be interested in Paradise? It’s Paradise.”
“I guess…” The Phantom hits something and David’s second house of cards falls apart. “Bwah!”
“Don’t worry.” The Captain cackles. “Just plowed through a mirage. We’re fine.”
“If you don’t believe in the Church’s Paradise, what do you think Paradise is then?” David looks at me and starts picking up his cards.
“In Athos, we call it Rakuen. It’s a place where riches, feasts, and love await all heroes and warriors. The entire place is a never-ending feasting hall where you can battle without injury, feed without becoming lazy, and always find love. No hatred, no cowardice, no scarcity. Just food, battles, and love for all eternity.”
“Fascinating.” David’s eyes narrow as he nods. “Is that what you believe as well?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I see… well, the Church’s version of Paradise is a realm that the Matriarch rules over the living and the dead. There is no war, violence, hatred, or famine. Everyone is at peace. You are reconnected with all your dead and alive loved ones and can live forever in peace and harmony.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You must be a child of the Matriarch.” David folds his hands and smiles. “Submit to her will, trust in her teachings, purify the land, and do good deeds for the sake of goodness.”
“Uh…. huh… Sounds like quite a catch.”
“It is a good catch!” David reaches into his robe and pulls out a booklet. It’s about the size of both my hands together, but it’s dense. You could probably use it as a bludgeoning weapon in a pinch. “If you’re interested, you can read all about her teachings in this book. I can also give you a trial sermon if you’re interested! The Church and the Matriarch have so many cool stories I need t-”
“Kid.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay…”
A few more minutes of wonderful silence pass before The Phantom comes to an abrupt, painful stop. David goes flying onto the floor. The table actually managed to flip over onto me. My chest hurts and I’m drenched in beer, so nothing’s really new.
“Owie!” David rolls over rubbing his forehead.
“Are you two okay?” The Captain asks.
“No.” I grunt and lick some booze off my arm. “What’s happening? Did we hit a mine?”
“Don’t think so.” The Captain stomps his pegleg onto the gas pedal. The Phantom wretches and groans, but goes nowhere. “If it were a mine, we’d be sinking… something must be keeping it in place.” he turns back to face me. “Hate to ask, but-”
“I’m on it.” I crack my neck, take the trunk off my back, and ready my lance. “Both of you behave while I’m gone.”
“Aye.” The Captain tilts his hat.
“W-wait!” David grabs onto my ankle. “Let me go out! If it’s mirages, it will be way safer if I go.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“... Good point.” David lowers his head, lets go of my ankle, and lies on the floor. “I’ll stay here.”
“If I’m not back in ten, you know what to do.”
“Aye aye.” The Captain replies.
I put my goggles on, adjust my hand, open the door to the deck, head out, and shut the deck behind me.
The river’s flooded again. The current is crashing and swirling in every direction. Mangroves, crops, and bodies litter the surface of the turbulent water. Most of the bodies are just some monkeys and unfortunate birds, but I could swear I saw the corpse of a horse and a man crash up against the bow. The rain’s the worst I’ve ever seen and the mist isn’t helping things either. Can barely see anything ten paces past the ship.
I wipe my goggles, lift my hood, pop some chewable blues into my mouth, and make my way to the deck. No signs of bandits or mirages… Can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to try and raid something in this weather. I reach the edge of the deck, bend down next to the railing, and hang my left hand over the ship for a second before pulling it back in. Nothing snapped at it… so that’s nice. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I peer over the edge of the deck and find an amorphous white blob encrusted over the bottom portion of the ship. It looks too shiny, too silky, and too pulsing to be a normal animal. It looks like if a piece of tooth plaque grew a ton large and was polished to a mirror sheen. I don’t know exactly what it is… but my money’s on it being a mirage. Never seen a type like that before. No eyes, no markings, no shape. I’d like to document it if it wasn’t quickly encroaching towards the deck. I savor the taste of blues, let the taste crawl down my throat and enrapture my brain. Numb, loose, and calm. Just what I need.
Just as the blob is about to spill over onto the deck, I stick my lance into it as hard as I can.
click
BOOM
Silver fluid bursts from the blob and gets all over me. My goggles fortunately shield my eyes, but it still splashes over my face and body. Damn… think some got up my nose. Stings like a bitch, but I blew a nice crater into the thing. It lets out this alien screech. It sounds like what I imagine a bird screeching underwater would sound like. The thing recedes back into the water, but the ship is still locked in place. A few moments later, a massive impact smacks the ship, turns it around, and nearly capsizes it in the process.
“What now!?” I turn around and try to head for the source of the impact, but find my movement impeded. I look down to find the entire deck covered in a silky, sticky substance. I’m ankle deep in it… and it’s only rising. Not just that, a song begins to echo from the distance. It’s soothing, peaceful, and completely out of place. My back is relaxing and my head is growing heavy just from listening to it. Each note feels like it’s groping under my skull and digging into my grey matter… It’s the hymn David was singing. No doubt about it. The singer’s voice sounds motherly. Firm, but beyond gentle. Tears begin flowing from my eyes and the inside of my throat begins to swell. This is bad. The mist is growing thicker by the second and I can’t reach into my pocket to get more blues. If I spend one more minute in here, I’m getting poisoned for sure. I reach my lance upward and prepare to stab near my legs. The blob can’t restrict my legs if I don’t have any. Just as I’m about to strike downward, something stops my lance. I look above and see a tentacle reaching out from the river and grasping my lance. It looks identical to the blob in every way. It snaps my lance in two and whacks me in the gut. Feels like a horse just kicked my stomach in. I keel over like an abused puppet and feel the sticky blob fluid encroach on my cheek. It’s warm and feels unlike anything else I’ve ever seen.
The song’s getting louder and the voice is getting closer. It feels like the singer is right behind me. My muscles are relaxing. I can’t move. Even breathing feels impossible. The blues falls out of my slack mouth and falls onto the floor. All I can hear is the song. All I can feel is the blob encroaching on my body. All I can see is the mist. I want to close my eyes and never wake up… but something is holding my eyes open. I can’t feel what it is, or even if it is, but it’s there… the singer giggles before shutting up and I hear a legion of arms and feet slap against the side of the boat. They sound wet, hurried, and beyond numerous. Three seconds pass and I see a mass of bodies climb up over the rails, plop onto the deck, and begin trudging towards me. There’s too many to count. Their bodies are humanoid, but devoid of any visible features besides limbs and heads. They’re all silky, shiny, and white. The only thing that differentiates them from each other is their holes. Each one is visibly injured in some regard. One has a chunk of their shoulder missing. One has a gaping hole in their chest. One has its head hanging on by a thread. Some don’t have legs and are crawling towards me like maimed spiders.
One by one, they all pile on me. Their hands cover every inch of my body and hold me in place. Their fingers pierce my armor and dig into my skin. Their hands burn. It feels like their skin is melting my flesh away through sheer contact. They roll me onto my back and reach for my face. Their hands tear off my goggles, pull at my eyelids and mouth and force them open. I want to scream, I want to cry, but I can’t. I don’t have the air to do either. My head begins to feel full of lead and my body feels ready to pass through the ship at any second. The hands continue to force my mouth open. The fingers press down onto my teeth and burn the inside of my mouth. Each second that passes, my head grows closer and closer to splitting in two.
The body with the hole in its chest slithers atop the rest of the bodies and gets real close to me. Way too close. Despite having no eyes, the head stares down at me. The front of the head begins to swell like a balloon. The spongy flesh presses against my face before popping. My face erupts in pain as hot fluid seers against my cheeks. It gets into my eyes, but I can’t close them.
Strands of silver flesh hang off what used to be the figure’s face and I finally see a swirling amalgamation of eyes, muscle, and teeth. They’re His eyes. I feel my stomach flip inside out and my lungs try to crawl out of my chest. I can’t look away. The figure caresses my cheek and smiles before opening his mouth. Hot blood spews from it and falls into mine. Wretched, vile blood violates my insides. Just as I feel my stomach’s about to burst, I hear David’s voice pierce the mist.
“LUMINAE!!!”
A white flash envelopes the boat and all the figures screech out at once. They all fade away to nothingness and I can see the white goop evaporate off the surface of the boat. The mist recedes away from the air around us and my vision is restored. My body feels lighter and my head feels clear. I’m still lying on the floor of The Phantom, but manage to see the sun shine through a cloudy sky.
Despite my head feeling clear, my body feels… wrong. It feels like there’s something missing and something else that shouldn’t be there. I lurch over and try to vomit, but nothing comes out. I feel empty. I should be feeling a million different things, but I feel nothing. I don’t know if I’m numb, delusional, or just healthy for once. I don’t even know if that was a dream, an illusion, or real… and I don’t want to know. Despite everything, I manage to get to my knees and look up at David. He’s sweaty, panting, and looks paler than usual.
“You’re a mage…?” are the only words my brain can form.
“Yes.” David smiles. “I told you I was useful…” his eyes slam shut and he falls to the ground.
I have nothing to say. I can’t think of anything. I just force myself to my feet, sling David over my shoulder, and look at the deck. Looks wet, but clean. My broken lance is lying in the center of the deck with a charge missing. I look at my armor and see it’s cracked and broken in several places. My arms and legs are still sizzling, my jaw feels loose, and I’m sweating like a sow… better head back down before everything goes to hell again.
I open the door to the deck below, head inside, and close it behind me before heading down. Upon reaching the Captain’s Quarters, I see The Captain standing behind his steering wheel with a crossbow pointed at me. “Astrid!? Holy crap! How are you alive!?”
“Hell if I know…” I trudge towards the cot, lay David on it, and turn to The Captain. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know.” The Captain holsters his crossbow and heads over to a chest adjacent to the steering wheel. “I just felt the ship nearly capsize and heard you crying above deck. Thought the worst happened.” he opens up the chest and begins groping through it.
“That all?” I trudge towards the table, put it back upright, sit down, and slump over it.
“Hmmm… I did hear some wench singing, but only for a second. Was that you?”
“I dunno.” I shake my head against the table. “Can we just get going?”
“Sure thing.” The Captain brings out an assortment of items from the chest and puts them on the table in front of me. Fresh carton of blues, a lighter, some old cups, and a bottle of golden-brown brandy. “Here.” he brings a stick to my mouth.
My tired face somehow manages to curl into a smile. “You know me so well.” I open my mouth and accept the stick.
“Don’t mention it.” he lights up the stick before lighting up his pipe. “Last thing I need right now is you getting poisoned.”
We tilt our heads towards the ceiling and take a deep breath before letting out a large indigo cloud. A warm tingle slides down my spine and my limbs feel just a little cooler. I still feel like garbage, but I no longer feel like hot garbage.
The Captain smiles before turning back to the wheel. He grips it tight and presses his pegleg against a pedal on the floor. The Phantom roars like a proud beast and shoots off ahead. “Attagirl… Attagirl…” The Captain grumbles.
“Hey…” I take another deep puff. “There a shower on this ship?”
“There’s a sink, a bucket, some soap, and a sponge in the room across from here. Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” I sit still in my own smoke for five minutes before getting up and heading towards the door. I can’t help but look at David for a sec. Kid looks healthy. Aside from a bruise on his forehead, he looks fine. Just looks like he’s taking a little nap. Breathing is steady too, so that’s good. One more deep breath and I head over to the washroom.
Calling it a washroom is a little generous. It looks more like a broom closet. There’s a tiny stool, two buckets, some bottles of soap, a mirror, some washcloths and sponges drying on a rack, a faucet, and a drain. There’s a single lightbulb illuminating the room that’s constantly flickering and looks ready to fall out of the socket at any moment. No bells, no whistles, but it's clean. I chuck my clothes and armor into the corner and fill one of the buckets with water. Water’s a bit murky, but I’ve seen worse. Nothing a little soap won’t fix. I sit down on the stool and get a good look in the mirror. There’s white handprints all over my body. Small puncture wounds line my legs and my sides, but there’s no handprints on my face. Sure my normal scars and burns are still there, but nothing new. I open my mouth and see no trace of blood or white fluid either. What the hell even happened up there?
I take a deep breath, fill the washroom with a little smoke, and shut the water off. Finally got a full bucket. The water’s lukewarm at best, but it’s the best I’m getting. Drench a sponge in some soap, dunk it in the bucket, and I start washing off my body. It takes some hard scrubbing, but the white handprints do come off. They leave some red imprints, but those look like they’ll disappear in a day or two. My hand’s doing alright all things considered. There’s a layer of gunk on it and some white handprints all of it too, but those wash away as well.
I’ve never seen a mirage like that before and the kid was singing the same song as the voice in the mist. Could he have caused that mirage to appear? No no… If he was malicious, why would he bother saving me? Maybe they’re drawn to something. The mirage didn’t seem to want to eat me even though it had plenty of opportunities too. How curious… maybe they’re attracted to the stone. That’s the only thing that makes sense right now.
I dunk some water over my head and scrub my scarred back clean. Damn near feels like I need a hammer and chisel just to scrub some of this gunk off. While I’m here, I wash off my broken armor. It’s got some sizable holes in it and looks considerably worn, but I should still clean it and keep it. I’m sure I’ll be able to smelt it down or repair it in the next town I’m in. I finish showering, get dressed, empty the bucket, gather my armor, and head back to the Captain’s Quarters. Looks the same as when I left. Captain’s still driving. David’s still fast asleep on the cot. Stone is still where it should be. I sit down by the table, pour myself a glass of brandy, and look up at The Captain. “Hey, Captain. Mind joining me for a drink?”
“Go ahead and keep the bottle for yourself.” The Captain replies without looking back at me. “You earned it.”
“I don’t drink alone.” I pour him a glass as well and bring the glasses up to the steering wheel.
The Captain looks at me and cackles. “If you insist.” he takes a glass and taps it against mine. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” we tap our glasses and I gulp down the whole thing in one go. It burns, but it's a good burn. The only good burn I’ve felt all day.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you drink alone?” Captain takes a sip and rests the glass in a little cup holder behind the wheel.
“I’m not an alcoholic.” I head back to the table and pour myself another glass.
“Heh. How responsible of you.” Captain cackles again.
I down the second glass in one gulp and consider a third, but that carton of blues is just sitting there looking rather lonely… and my current stick’s almost out. I put out my current stick on the table and light up a fresh one. My stomach feels warm and my head feels quiet again. I’m back to normal. “How long till we reach Sere?”
“Bout five hours. Four if we’re lucky.”
“Good.” I lie down, rub my stomach and feel the brandy residue singe my throat. “Wake me up when we get there.”
“Will do.”
I close my eyes, finish my stick, put it out on the floor, and fall asleep a moment later.