I slid
behind a coil of rope as a crewmember passed by, and let out a small breath of
relief when he failed to notice me. This ship is incredible, I thought,
as I crawled through the ropes and crates on the deck, attempting to take in
every detail of the ship--from the cracks in the floor to the spot on the deck
that wasn’t swabbed quite well enough. There wasn’t much on the ship, at least
on the top deck. Aside from cargo and the two masts, the deck appeared quite
empty. A seat stood near the stern, crafted from plain wood. I crept to it,
ducking behind some crates to avoid unwanted attention. The chair was well
refined and obviously crafted by a skilled carpenter. I examined it curiously,
trying to conceive a purpose for having such a nice chair in the middle of the
deck. How does it stay put during storms? I wondered and tested the
stability of the chair. To my surprise, it did not budge. I pulled again, and
I, once again, found it quite immovable. I looked closely at the feet of the
chair, and saw that iron bolts held it to the wooden boards of the deck. Next
to the chair, a small table stood. Colorful contents on the table drew my eye
and my curiosity became suddenly irrepressible. I would have no cover if I
looked at it, I thought to myself; however, the desire to see the objects
on the table overwhelmed me. I waited until all of the crew had left the main
deck, cautiously watching the area in front of the chair that led to the lower
deck.
The
objects on the table were very simple: a knife, a cup (holding a foul smelling
liquid that I presumed to be ale), and a map. I disregarded the first two items
and ran my eyes over the map. It boasted the large and colorful picture of a
very curious island. The island was slightly rounded on the left and right sides,
and flat on the top. At the bottom of it, a peninsula jutted out, labeled
Fellon Ford. Hang on a minute, I thought and searched the edges
for a name. Sure enough, on the edge of the paper there was an inscription in
deep red. Adalia, I thought, silently reading the title. I had made maps
in the past, endeavoring to guess what the island on which I dwelled looked
like as a whole. However, I had never imagined this.
I did
know that a very interesting trade system took place in Adalia. There
were not many resources in one particular location; they were quite sporadic.
Each province had its own special resource to offer the rest of the island,
something that the other villages lacked. Winwillow had a great abundance of
trees, thus it supplied the island with wood. The Farmlands were fairly
self-explanatory; their province consisted entirely of farms. Now, other
provinces had farms, but the Farmlands WERE farms. They had a great variety of
food (sheep and wheat mostly) and would trade that food to the rest of the
island. Aside from that, though, they kept to themselves. Crimera had many
varieties of metals to boast of, such as steel, iron, silver, gold, bronze, and
an abundance of other valuable items. I began looking at the right side of the
map when I felt a hand grab my shoulder.
“What
are you doing here?” A loud shrill voice asked. I groaned and turned so that I
was facing Clown (who indeed it was) and I could see that he was clearly not
happy. “You are not supposed to be on this ship unless you are crew or with
command staff!”
“It
wasn’t my choice to come here,” I retorted and started walking towards the
front of the ship. Even in my annoyance, I noticed that it was oddly shaped, as
a big spike curved and sloped into the water. The Mermaid carved on the front
was painted in bright colors, with blonde hair and a blue tail.
“You
must come with me!” declared Clown, approaching me at the stern. I jumped on
the ledge and started dancing around the horn. Clown tried to grab me and pull
me off of the ledge, but every time he reached his hands out I would swing to
the other side of horn, thus successfully avoiding his grasp. “Get down here
boy! Or I’ll-“
“You’ll
what? Grab me?” I taunted and continued to evade him. Clown became very
frustrated and jumped up onto the ledge with me. He grabbed my tunic and
started to tug roughly on the hem. I had never liked Clown in the first place,
but I REALLY didn’t like him ordering me around. Clown pulled hard, but I
refused to let go of the horn. Suddenly out of nowhere a big red object
appeared in the air, flying quickly towards us, and hit Clown in the head,
knocking him into the water. I looked in the direction the object had made its
dramatic entrance from, and I saw that Clown and I had managed to collect a
crowd. This was not the crew I had seen earlier; these men appeared to be
movers for the supplies. One of the men slid a crate of apples behind him,
trying to conceal the objects used to perform the recent felony. I anticipated
Clown’s arrival to the top of the water, his gasping for air and aggravating
screams for assistance. But he never surfaced. I stared at the water in
perplexity, wondering what course of action to follow. I looked back at the
group, expecting them to do something, but to my surprise, they remained perfectly
still.
“Aren’t
you going to help him?” I asked, staring dumbfounded at them.
“We
didn’t like him much anyways,” one in front said with a gruff voice, as a
murmur of agreement grew from the rest of the crowd.
I
couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “He is going to drown!” I yelled, looking
back at the water.
“If
you want to save him so much; you go in after him!” yelled a small and stocky
man.
I
stared at the water that a moment ago appeared beautiful, and now suddenly
seemed dark, sinister, and cold. “I can’t swim,” I mumbled, captured by the
thought.
“Do
you hear that lads? He doesn’t know how to swim!” They all laughed in approval
and jeered at me. My anger started to overwhelm me, and I threw off my jerkin
and boots and bent my legs. In glancing over my shoulder a final time, I saw a
man dressed in brown walking onto the deck. I pushed off with my legs and fell
into the icy water.
My
body became suddenly rigid as I hit the water and plunged beneath the surface.
It was cold, very cold. I floated for a bit, trying to get used to the sting of
the salt water in my eyes. I finally opened my eyes and looked around.
Momentarily forgetting about the cold, I gawked at my surroundings. The water
was blue and clear. I saw the boat, with three quarters of the hull under the
surface. On the front end, where the spike protruded into the water, I could
see that it slanted down, creating a large bronze bar that stuck out about five
feet in front of the main frame. A ram, I thought to myself, now
thoroughly convinced that this ship was truly fantastic. I was about to
examine it more closely when I recalled the reason that I was down here. I
looked around and saw that Clown’s jerkin had snagged on a nail that stuck out
of the wood on the dock, leaving him hanging there. Now came the real
challenge. I had read about swimming, and had always longed to try it; however,
Winwillow had no ocean or large enough lakes for me to actually swim in. I was
not entirely certain that I could pull it off. I knew Clown was running out of
time, and I was beginning to have trouble clinging to the precious bit of air
remaining in my lungs. Hardening my heart, I started moving my legs the way the
book I had read said to do. I moved a bit in the water due to the sudden
movement, trying to make my way to the pillar of the dock in order to climb
down. I managed to kick and flail my way over to it, and I clung on with all of
my strength.
I
inched down the pillar until I reached Clown. I grabbed his body and slung it
over my shoulder, cursing myself for not bringing a rope. As I climbed, his
dead weight dragged heavily on my shoulders; I tried, without much success, to
figure out how this skinny man could be so heavy. Struggling for air, I managed
to slowly claw my way up the pole. I was near the top when a wave hit me and
slammed me against the post, knocking all my remaining air out of my lungs. I
faltered, trying to breathe, but having no air to do so. Looking up and seeing
the light coming through the water, a new sense of urgency came over me. I
yanked at the pole, desperately trying to reach the surface. My hand broke the
surface for just a moment, and, in that second, I realized that I was
completely fed up with this struggle. Despite the splinters in my hands, and
the black spots that started to gather in my eyes, I gave one final heave and
managed to shove Clown onto the dock. With the little strength I had left, I
grabbed the edge of the dock and soon joined Clown, sprawled out on the wood. I
gasped for air, but found I had water in my lungs. My vision started to blur,
and I vaguely remember a great group gathering around Clown and I, a shoving on
my chest, so and then a warm touch on my mouth that on my mouth that sent hot
breath streaming into my throat. You have got to get out of the habit of
doing this, I thought to myself. I stopped fighting for consciousness and
slipped into yet another dream world.
I woke
to find myself in a very familiar situation. I was in the same bed in the same
room. This time, when I sprung out of bed, I stumbled. I felt very light
headed, and my legs were very weak. A few of the side effects of almost
drowning I guess. I thought to myself. I grabbed my jerkin (which was at
the foot of my bed this time), slipped on my boots, and made for the door. I
grabbed the handle and turned it. Stepping out, I started to make my way to the
large grey doors, wondering if that was all just a dream, when I bumped into a
man with brown hair and a staff in his hands. On my second glance I saw that he
was not truly a man, but simply a boy older than me, 20- 22 was my guess at his
age. Still, he was much taller than me. I stood awkwardly for a moment and then
tried to pass.
“You
are in detention, I can’t let you out, or anyone in” the boy with the staff
spoke. “You’re just going to have wait here until you are called for.”
“What?”
I wondered at this sudden occurrence. I just saved Clowns life, and they
treat me like this? I considered that statement for a moment, and then
realized that might be the very reason that they were apparently holding me as
a prisoner. I gave the boy a sharp glance, not feeling like I could match him
in a fight in this state, and walked reluctantly back into my room. The door
shut and locked behind me. After about an hour in my homey little prison,
during which I sat and did nothing more than contemplate my imprisonment, the
door unlatched and May stepped into the room carrying a plate of food.
“You’ve
no idea how glad I am to see you!” I exclaimed, jumping up and stumbling yet
again. She nodded and put her finger to her lips. I realized that the guard
outside must be asleep, so I tiptoed to the door and, after directing May
through, quietly pulled it shut. She walked over to the bed and set the tray
down, making sure not to spill anything.
“How
are you feeling?” she asked, grabbing some plates and spreading food onto them.
“Like
someone has been dancing on my chest,” I replied, taking a seat next to her.
She passed me a plate, and we both started eating. After my recent adventures,
my appetite had practically disappeared, but I really didn’t want to appear
rude. We sat silently for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. I swallowed
a mouth full of fish with great difficulty, so I tried to change the subject.
“So, what have you been up to of late?” She thought for a moment before
answering.
“Not
much really.” She replied, still pondering the question. “Apart from you and
Clown, not many people have needed medical attention lately, so I’ve had quite
a bit of free time.”
“You’re
a healer?” I asked in surprise. I had never really interacted much with healers
of any sort back in Winwillow, but I was fairly certain that, in order to be a
healer, you had to be slightly older than May.
“Yes,
I am.” She said laughing at my reaction. There was a pause, and I’m not sure
why but I started to rack my brains for more questions, trying desperately to
keep the conversation going.
“What
do you like to do in your spare time?” I asked, complimenting my brilliance for
thinking of something to ask.
“Well,
I like to hike, play the lyre, and run in the plains around Fellon Ford
whenever I get a chance,” she said, thinking. She seemed to have this habit of
making faces while she was thinking. I glanced over at her trying to keep a
straight face, but I couldn’t help laughing as she put her mouth to the side,
pursing her lips. She gave me a questioning glance, and I shook my head, saying
it was nothing. Suddenly there was a rustling outside, and we both fell silent.
“I
have to leave now, I’m planning to rehearse a new lyre piece with some of the
other musicians in the fort,” she whispered, rising from the bed. I scraped all
of the remaining food onto one plate and handed her the tray. I squeezed her
hand in a silent thank you, after which she smiled and left. I lay down again
on the bed, feeling light headed again and happier than I had been. Sleep soon
had pressing plans with me, though, and I passed out the minute I closed my
eyes. I woke up feeling much better than I had earlier, but still not very
hungry. I stood up and combed my hair in the mirror. I had just sat down again
when I heard the door unlatch, and saw two soldiers and Clown walk in. I
marveled at how he had been under the water longer then I was, and he only
looked a bit pale.
“You
will now come to your appointment with General Jaren!” He declared his voice a
bit more shrill than normal. I was still far too tired and confused to care, so
I got out of bed and followed him out the door.
