“I’m too old for this shit,” Stephendore said in a tone that implied he wasn’t actually put out at all, as he came through the room carrying a box filled mostly with ashes, but with pieces of broken, burned wood sticking out at angles. He paused, looked at Orenda, and laughed.
“Congratulations,” he said, “I’m so glad you decided to toss that boy a pity fuck. I hate that you had to take that one for the team, but he’s gonna be so much easier to deal with now. You’ve no idea.”
“You’re… welcome?” Orenda said slowly. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. She wasn’t accustomed to sailors, but she had read, and heard colloquially, that they were known to speak rather freely. She had often heard the phrase, ‘to cuss like a sailor’, but still found herself unprepared for such straightforward language. But this man had fought alongside the White Rabbit to free a group of prisoners of war, so he was not some common sailor.
“Now that you’ve made a man out of him, maybe he’ll keep his head out of his ass and we can actually set a proper course instead of sailing around looking for a phantom who may or may not exist,” Stephendore laughed.
“I don’t…” Orenda took another bite and mostly chewed it before she continued, “I don’t know that I like the idea… I’ve heard it before, and it never sat right with me… that masculinity is defined by ‘ability to have sex’.”
Stephendore laughed again and said, “I was joking. You can’t be so uptight on a ship, youngun. If we let ourselves take ourselves too seriously we’ll all go mad. It happens- it’s called ‘cabin fever’. We have to keep morale high.”
“Oh,” Orenda said, “It’s all quite new to me. I don’t think I like sailing. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“And make sure to eat lots of vegetables,” he said, “You need your strength. We’ll resort to seaweed if we have to. We’ve done it before.”
“Steve!” Tolith called from his room, “Why is that taking so long? I’ve got another box!”
“Then bring it yourself!” Stephendore called back, then rolled his eyes.
“Can none of you hear me!?” Adamareyn came bursting into the room, “I’ve been screaming for a good ten minutes!”
“No you haven’t,” Orenda said sensibly, “You only just left.”
“Dalin’, what’s wrong?” Stephendore asked, dropping the playful attitude he had had a moment earlier.
“I’ve screamed myself hoarse!” Adamareyn snapped, “Ship ho!”
“I told you not to call me that,” Stephendore said quickly, almost as if he couldn’t catch himself, and instantly regretted it, “Sorry- what kind of ship?”
“I’ve never seen one like it!” Adamareyn said with wide eyes, “It’s jet black- the wood looks- actually it looks quite a bit like that in the box. Why do you have a box of ashes? Actually, no, whatever it is, my news is more important-”
“What flag are they flying?” Stephendore asked.
“It’s not a Urillian flag!” Adamareyn said, “Or the flag of the old water continent, which are the only other ships we really see. It’s… it’s a mask, with a sword and some other symbol I don’t understand crossed under it. It’s the symbol of the Burned Roc! It’s Captain Nochdifache!”
“What?” Tolith came running into the room, “You- you actually spotted the Burned Roc? Are you sure? I have to get my staff!” He took off back down the hall, but he didn’t make it very far before the ship began to move of its own accord.
“Shit!” he called as he slammed sideways into the wall of the hall.
Orenda, for her part, went flying directly into Stephendore, who dropped the box he had been carrying. The ashes went flying down the hall with the direction of the air, which Orenda, had she not been violently ill again, would have used as a point of pride, because it meant that she had been right about the stove and the ventilation of the ship, despite knowing nothing about ship construction.
“We’re tilting!” Tolith screamed as it happened. Orenda was so disoriented she didn’t quite know which way was up, but the wall she was against was now nearly the floor, and the light above them fell on its chain as if it agreed. Her stomach was flipping again, and she pried herself off Stephendore with his help, and clung to the wood of the wall.
“Adam!” Tolith called, “counter it! Please? Do LITERALLY ANYTHING!”
“I can’t get to the deck!” Adam screamed back.
“Try harder!” Tolith came out of the hall half-crawling on the wall, holding his father’s staff, “They’re manipulating the sea! They must have a water mage!”
“The hell they are!” Adamareyn snapped, “I could feel a water spell! This isn’t water magic!”
“Then what the hell is it?” Tolith asked, steadied himself on one hand, and Orenda watched him doing what she knew she had often done herself. He was unfocusing his eyes, trying to see what kind of magic flowed around them. She attempted to do this herself, but the magic was so difficult to pull from that she could feel nothing but the ocean.
“I don’t know,” Adam yelled.
“We have to pull up the sails!” Tolith was crawling over them, and Orenda thought, for the first time, that he was acting like a real adventurer, “Come on!” He grabbed Adamareyn by the collar, “Steve! Come on! Let’s get furlin’!”
“Toli,” Orenda grabbed for him and he took her hand, “I’m going to throw up again. I hate the sea.”
“Stay down here!” Tolith told her, and to Adam he said, “Fight with a water spell. Use the current to push us back. Steve and I will furl the sails.”
“Aye Aye, Captain,” Adamaeryn agreed, and shoved off the wall as best he could to follow Tolith above deck.
Orenda watched the three of them, and tried to move along behind them, but the sea had drained her, and she was so sick that she couldn’t keep her footing on the relative levelness of the ship before- now it was impossible. She was forced to crawl with her hands along the wall and slide her feet, so she had only made it to the bottom of the stairs when Tolith threw open the door at the top. It hit the wall on the outside with a BANG, and his hair instantly came undone from the bun and began to whip around his face. She watched the ribbon fly off into the storm.
“God damn,” he said, “that’s strong! Maybe we should get some rope- oh holy shit, Adam, how close was that ship?”
“If you can see it with the naked eye now,” Adam shouted to be heard over the wind, “Then it’s far too close!”
Orenda grabbed at the wall of the stairway, determined to make it to the top. She wanted to see what they were seeing, to see the ghost ship of the unbelievable pirate, the fire elf who lived his life upon the sea, who sailed with werewolves, ghouls, and clockwork men.
“How many do you see?” Came a booming voice from the top of the stairs- and Orenda could not believe her eyes. Above Tolith’s head she saw a tiny dragon flittering through the storm- then all at once the wind stopped, and the boat lurched. Orenda saw a wave of water that must have been splashed onto the deck when it was nearly sideways, and was amazed that all three of the sailors stayed on their feet. She certainly hadn’t. She heard a crash behind her as everything in the kitchen righted itself.
“I count three cops!” the dragon said, and must have begun to fly in circles, because he kept passing the doorway. Orenda wanted to tell them that she knew who that dragon was, and tried to push herself to her feet. She had made it to her hands and knees when the bout of overwhelming nausea overtook her, and she turned to vomit into the kitchen rather than the stairway. She hated the sea! She hated it so much! This was the worst possible time to be ill! She cursed the tears that collected in her eyes as a different voice rang out, this one decidedly feminine.
“Three little pigs?” It said, “Should I huff and puff and blow their ship down?”
Tolith’s staff lit up as he charged outside with his crew behind him, and Orenda barely heard him, asking if she was alright, begging her to stay, as she crawled up the stairs after them. Her vision had blurred again, her stomach was turning, but she had to tell them that she knew that dragon! That was unmistakably Gary, the sea dragon who had visited her all those years ago! He had the same shimmering scales, but more importantly, the same voice. She couldn’t speak and move at the same time, but she had to make it to the deck.
“I demand to know-” Tolith began, but Orenda didn’t hear the rest of it, because someone else had yelled over him.
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“LIGHT UM UP!”
Then the world around her was nothing but the sound of an explosion as the stairs directly behind her were gone. Splinters of wood flew into the air and she braced herself with the wall. If she hadn’t been moving, if she had still been there, she would be dead!
“What the fuck was that!?” Tolith asked.
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Stephendore shouted back.
Orenda looked behind her and saw the hole that now existed. It hadn’t been burned, something had gone through it too quickly for her to catch.
“LIGHT UM UP!” the voice called again.
“No!” Tolith screamed, “Don’t light anything! Stop blowing holes in my ship! Parley! Nochdifache!”
Orenda tried to hold herself upright and took another step. She had to make it to the deck, because she could no longer see Tolith from the doorway.
“Lord Glenlen?” Nochdifache asked, sounding much more like he had on the public platform, “I say! The rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated, haven’t they boy?”
Orenda clung to the doorway and begged her legs to keep her upright. She pulled with all her might and fell onto the top step- but now she could more or less see. She blinked her eyes to steady them and could not see where the voice was coming from. But she saw the other ship. The Burned Roc was so close now that she could have made it out in detail if only her eyes would stop watering. As it was, she could see the darkness of it against the sunset, and it really did look like a ghost ship. The sails were out, and she rubbed her eyes to focus on the flag-
It was when she looked up that she saw them.
A red carpet floated in the air over the deck. The three sailors were standing below it with weapons drawn, Toli with his staff, Adam with his wand, and Steve with a bow that Orenda hadn’t even known he had. On the carpet stood Captain Nochdifache, exactly as she remembered him. He was wearing his bright red navel uniform, with white lace puffing out the sleeves over his red leather gloves, with his red jacket accented in gold, his leather pants and knee high boots, his tall hat, his long, red dreadlocks streaming down his back, his long ears the same color as her skin accented with gold and fire crystals- and his mask shimmering in the sunset, reflecting the scene around him.
There was a human woman beside him in a red traveling cloak with the hood drawn, but her face was visible underneath it. She wore an eyepatch and held a wand made of glass and inset with white stones that Orenda had never seen before.
“Captain Nochdifache!” Toli shouted at him, “Why have you attacked my ship?”
The elf and human both jumped as if they had rehearsed, as if they were acrobats, him forward and her backward, and both landed hard on the deck. Nochdifache held out his hand and Orenda watched the carpet roll itself tighter and tighter until he was able to grasp it. He tucked it into a strap on the back of his jacket, and Orenda was amazed at how small it became when it rolled. It must have been a very light material. She had seen pictures in her book, had heard tales of flying carpets, but she had never seen one in action before.
Captain Nochdifache was another fire elf, a fire mage! He had lived in their kingdom before it fell! He could tell her everything! He was such a great mage that he could fly across the open sea on a carpet, that he could cast spells strong enough to carry him and his friend, with seemingly no effort. He wasn’t doubled over in pain. He wasn’t throwing up. The heels of his boots clicked along the deck as he walked, and Orenda realized, for the first time, that she may be short for a fire elf as he towered over Tolith.
“I don’t like Urilians,” Nochdifache explained. “When I see a Urilian flag, I can be forgiven, Lord Glenlen, for jumping to certain conclusions.”
Orenda opened her mouth because she wanted to call out to him, but on the deck again, with the sea rolling below her, she just could not get her lungs to work. She pushed herself up on her arms and tried to will herself not to pass out, to make it to her feet.
“What path do you walk?” Tolith asked him- and Nochdifache tilted his head, and waved a hand over his face. The neutral expression of the mask changed to a smile.
“What path do I walk?” he turned his back on Tolith as if he had no fear of him, “Lord Glenlen, you have no idea the path I walk. You have no idea what your people have put me through. You think anyone can bring order to this chaos? I have seen a great many things, Lord Glenlen. I have seen an eruption happen so quickly that my entire world turned to ash in an instant. I have seen grown men order the slaughter of children. I have seen the Emerald Knight- twice!- and lived to speak of it. I have seen the world more times than you can imagine. I know what makes the rabbit white. I know the path of order, and it does not, and will not ever, exist. I have outlived more sniveling little noblemen like you, playing pirate, than you can possibly imagine. I’ve seen ships like this back when they used to mean something, and seen men like you!” He pointed at Stephendore, “Back when they used to be something. I walk no path. I have no name. I have no face. Oh,” He tilted his head and waved a hand over the mask again. Its expression became one of sorrow.
“So sorry to hear about your mother, Lord Glenlen,” he said, “Believe me, I can sympathize.”
“You killed my father in front of me!” Tolith accused.
“I didn’t kill your father,” Nochdifache waved a hand and the mask returned to its neutral expression. “Your father tried to stab me, to poison me. If I hadn’t been wearing sterilite, I would be dead. It isn’t my fault that he didn’t run from a fire. I only freed myself. I…” his voice dropped and he sounded genuinely remorseful, “I would never do that, Tolith. I would never kill a father in front of his child. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“I don’t believe you!” Toli spat.
Nochdifache strode up to him and grabbed him by the chin, and Tolith looked absolutely horrified. Orenda found that she could not make it to her feet as the world swam around her.
“What happened to your pretty little face?” Nochdifache asked, and ran his thumb along one of the scars.
“What happened to yours?” Tolith snapped, “Who are you, really?”
“Captain Nochdifache!” Orenda had meant to scream it, but her lungs betrayed her and it came out in a whisper.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Nochdifache released him, “What path do you walk, boy?”
“We walk the path of order!” Tolith told him, “All of us!”
“Captain Nochdifache!” Orenda tried again, and the effort of it was draining her. The ocean had settled on her again, and she was putting all of her effort into breathing.
“Do you?” Nochdifache asked, then, over his shoulder added, “Bella! They walk the path of order!” He clicked his tongue and said, “I could see that for you” he pointed at Adam, “But you, sir, are a Urillian soldier,” he said to Stephendore, “I’ve seen quite a lot of you. And you, Lord Glenlen-”
“Stop calling me that!” Tolith snapped and actually took a step toward him. “You killed my father! In front of me! I deserve justice!”
“Would you like to hear a story?” Nochdifache asked.
“Not particularly,” Tolith answered.
“Captain Nochdifache,” Orenda whispered, and tears of frustration leaked from her eyes and onto the top step. She hated the sea, hated it more than anything- she had never felt so useless, so helpless.
“Oh, but I think you’ll like it,” Nochdifache said. “When I was a boy, I, too, had a father. He loved me, I think. Certainly he loved… him. No, us. He loved me. I think he did… And when I was ten years old, I watched the Emerald Knight slice him clean in half. His blood splashed on my face- I was standing that close. He was standing between us and the Emerald Knight, to protect us. And I watched that evil sword split him clear across the middle.” He stopped walking and Orenda wished she could see the expression on his face, see his eyes. “He… he had looked back at us, my father. We… we weren’t supposed to be there. We were supposed to evacuate but… but he… he was… he was so stupid and he thought… We were TEN!” He snapped at Tolith as if his age had been his fault, “What the hell could we do, Glenlen!? We were children! What the hell were we supposed to do!?”
Tolith didn’t answer him, so Nochdifache clutched his mask, thought for a moment, and continued.
“Ah, yes, a story, the story has an ending, you see, that… well, with stories you do get a point, a moral. And I do have one, you see, it just… it gets so hard to think, sometimes.”
“Captain Nochdifache,” Orenda cried, but she could not make him hear her. None of them heard her. They were afraid they were going to have to fight, and they were focused on each other.
“The Emerald Knight is a person, you see, I knew it then and I know it now. The legends aren’t true. He isn’t a demon- I’ve met demons and they’re much nicer. He isn’t a ghost, because if ghosts are real and I’m not being haunted then I’ll be quite angry indeed. He isn’t a fairy tale, unless… unless my life is a fairy tale, and I assure you it is not. He is a person with real life in his eyes when he looks at you through that helmet that holds the power none of us can comprehend. He looked me right in the eye, and do you know what he said to me?”
He seemed to expect a real answer, so Tolith held his stance and, in a voice that plainly said he didn’t believe the story at all, answered, “No.”
“Captain Nochdifache!” Orenda begged the universe, but her prayers went unanswered.
“He said ‘Run!’,” Nochdifache said, “So I did. And I’ve been running ever since.”
“I don’t believe you,” Tolith said.
“More’s the pity,” Nochdifache shrugged, “You see, Lord Glenlen, the thing about the truth is that it is not dependent upon you to believe in it. It’ll be true no matter what you believe. Just as it is true that I never meant to kill your father,” he had turned away from him and was pacing the deck, but turned back swiftly, “Your father was not a good man. But you loved him.”
Tolith said nothing, but Orenda could see that he held an attack stance.
“Captain Nochdifache!” She tried, and heaved with the effort of it. She was tired of being insignificant, and tried again to stand, but she shook too badly with the fatigue.
“Then, I suppose you’ll want a chance to kill me,” Captain Nochdifache said as if it was perfectly reasonable, “What weapons, then? Right by Combat rules, I assume? One on one?”
“Staves,” Tolith said simply.
“I’m afraid I haven’t got one,” Captain Nochdifache reached into his jacket from the neck and pulled out a medallion. The sun cast its last rays out over the sea and reflected on the glowing fire crystals lining the edges in the exact pattern that Orenda recognized. “Can I use any focus? Your rules, lord Glenlen. I notice you have your father’s staff- this is something like that. My mother gave it to me, before she died.”
Orenda felt the medallion glowing against her chest more strongly than it ever had before. She felt the magic coursing through her, and she reached up, and with every ounce of strength inside of her, from the stars burning millions of miles away above her, and the rolling magma beneath the sea below, from the hearts of every person on the ship- she pulled herself to her feet. And with everything inside her, she shouted with all her lungs.
“GARETH FIREFIST!”
Nochdifache jumped, stumbled, and jerked in her direction. The shock nearly knocked him off his feet, and Orenda stared into her reflection on his mask.
The human woman took a step towards Orenda with her eye wide, and the dragon finally came to light on the deck just in front of her. Everyone had gone silent, no wind blew across the still water, and one by one, the stars twinkled into existence in the cold, uncaring void above.