A sailor’s favorite morning alarm from all the way above deck flung Ilene awake. “LAND!”
Ilene jumped to the window to see land. It was a jagged rock formation. It was almost flattened to nothing by the distance of the horizon. The jagged formations peaked the Eurasian island-head into complete view. On a map, the nation of Eurasia looks like what remains of Omega's chest. This has allowed the country to boast itself as the largest though not the richest. Ilene realized that the ship must have passed the crevice of the mountainous land mass blocking Eurasia off from straight-forward travel: Brazo, Omega's leg arm. Brazo had few settlements on it and mostly served as a natural wall to protect the proud people from the rest of the world. The Pangeans just learned about the crevice as a favor to them so that the journey to the wedding was less of an extended trip circumventing Brazo. Ilene thought that she felt the air cool down when she slept. She must have felt the shadows of the mountain pass over her. Ilene felt Marlene’s head pressed on her shoulder to look out the window with her. Ilene didn’t even hear her get up. “We made it,” Marlene said with a sense of finality sighing out. To prepare, Ilene picked out her favorite dress to wear. Marlene found it fitting as it would be Ilene’s last day as a maiden girl. It was of the lightest blue. It almost looked white. Some bands on her collar, waist, hem, and sleeves were of a darker blue. Her buttons were of that same dark shade. It flowed to her ankles. Herein, she wore dark blue heels with light blue stockings. Ilene loved the blue of that day’s sky, the blue of the waving sea, and her dear blue dress on her special day to meet her husband. She felt that this gave her the subtle visual cue that this was going to be a good day. Marlene began to work on re-braiding Ilene’s hair before the mirror, as was her custom. As Marlene tamed the knotted curls into submission, the maid said, “You’re a fine and beautiful young woman. You’re certainly not my little Ilene anymore.” Ilene saw Marlene propped behind her shoulder. Ilene smiled at Marlene via the mirror as the young woman tried to knock back a tear while the princess was whispering, “Thank you for all you’ve done.” Marlene got the first strand into the pattern. Marlene coughed a bit. Ilene asked, “Are you sure you’re okay to do this? I can just comb it straight today. I’ve done it before." Marlene refused. “According to an uppity young miss that I talked to on the deck yesterday, this braiding is an easy job. It’s listening to my haggish singing that is the real labor.” Both smiled largely before letting off laughter just as they did yesterday. “Besides,” said Marlene over her last chortle, “I want to do something special for your hair today, given the occasion. I figured that instead of the same old pattern, I’d tie each braided end into a spiraled link. It’d be akin to a pony-tail but it would appear far more artistic. It’d be my finest work yet. Not that any husband would pay attention to it.” Marlene touched Ilene’s hand. Ilene touched it back. Both eyes were anticipating a new future before them as the morning light from the window glimmered in the mirror to make them almost ghost like before its light. A knock at the door sounded. “We’re almost to shore, ladies.” Ilene said, “Almost done,” as Marlene tied the last of the links together. “Ready?” Ilene nodded. They both sniffled away their tears as they went to the deck. All the crew was lined to the edges of the ship in royal salute. The men were in their official navy blue Pangean uniforms. The golden ornaments, tassels, and medals shined greatly. Marlene held Ilene’s hand as they slowly made their regal way to the dock. As they made their way off the main deck, Marlene shone a sincere look of appreciation to Osiris, whose arm was in a sling, but still able to proudly salute with the other. He gazed back at her and smiled. Ilene thanked Osiris with her eyes too. Yet regulations kept the two ladies of the Pangean court from stopping their procession to verbally thank Osiris. So they marched on. A pre-selected company of the crew showered in step behind the two as they began to march along the steps to the harbor. This harbor was populated with surprisingly few boats. Eurasia has always had a poor history of trade with other nations. Some of the crew stayed behind, including: Osiris and Marius amongst others that had to tend to the ship’s upkeep. The captain led the parade of Pangean men as he trailed respectfully behind Pangean ladies. Ilene saw the Pangean flag, with its spherical swirl of light blue and white over a background of darker blue, in the rear of this band held proudly by Atlas. As the group neared the walled city of Patricho, Eurasia's capitol, Ilene took in the severe enormity of the walls enveloping the city. They were of old and eroding marble yellowed by centuries of age. They gave no hint of a city behind them due to their sky-scratching height. Birds were seen flying over it, but in a scaling attempt at flight to its top to pass over. Even the metal doors seemed overly large. This is certainly an entrance to a land of giants if I ever saw one, echoed Ilene’s mind. As the meeting was pre-arranged, the captain had one of the men blow a horn to herald the arrival. The door cranked awake like a gnawing groan of a resurrected behemoth. The city was home to mighty obelisks that rivaled the ziggurats that Ilene recalled from her own country. Yet these marbled structures seemed worn, shapeless, and beyond repair. There were smaller buildings. Unlike the bigger ones, these were more appropriately sized as there were stretches of landscape for collections of businesses and homes. All were in the format of the dying marble, though. Within Patricho’s city square at the entrance was another paralleled arch of standing soldiers. They were lined all the way to the palace. The palace was the nicest looking of the buildings. It was of the smoothest material like that of a maroon marble that matched the greater structures of the city. It possessed a huge width while also complimented by many columns like those in Ilene’s city. The royal family of Eurasia stood at the end of the line. Ilene had to walk closer to get a better look at them. The company marched by each Eurasian soldier that stood in their statue’s stance. It was rather quiet and uneasy at first. Ilene looked at their uniforms. They looked more like savage warriors of old. They wore bronze helmets that over-shadowed their faces with the sharp edges that were hanging over their brows. They wore bronze chest plates with woven pants. They had brown breeches that waved only behind their legs like sashes or capes. They all had belts that featured a sword. They had a bow and arrow with a musket wrapped about their backs. Oddly, they each held none of these weapons, but only a drum. Their icy silence was blasted away by their methodic tending of the drums that steadily rose to a quaking fruition with each of Ilene’s steps. The drums got louder and louder the closer they walked to the family, waiting for the visitors as if standing for a portrait of them to be painted. The drums raged like animals ready to strike as they reached a fever pitch. Ilene reached the royal family of the Eurasian empire. She stood before them. The drums stopped. Ilene expected a group dressed in fine cloth and jewels. It surprised her to find that the four of the country’s family wore sack cloth for tunics and capes. Yet there was no mistaking that these were the leaders. For the emperor wore a fine, though small, jewel upon his forehead. He had a curly beard of silver with each strand arching wildly back to his face. He introduced himself first. “Princess Ilene of Pangea, we welcome you with our arms open to accept you into our country, our home, and our hearts.” His words came from a fierce look that grew back into a hospitable smile as he hugged her and kissed upon the forehead. The rest of the family opened their arms, and ritualistically joined in the father’s hug and kiss to welcome her to the family. She saw patches of each of the four as they leaned in. It was a quiet and uncomfortable practice for the new girl in Patricho. Ilene stiffened her eyes in appreciation. She looked to Marlene who waved with her eyebrows as if to express, ‘I think they like you.’ The one that stuck out the most to her out of this sack-cloth-wearing bunch was a young man who seemed reserved among this group. Even as he helped hug her, he seemed cautious to keep a step back as if afraid of his own family. This is not what initially attracted Ilene’s gaze to him, though. He wore a black veil over his face that covered all of his features, but the bald top of his head was crowned out by the upper band of the veil. Unlike the others he wore no cape and his tunic’s strap was cut loose on one side. Ilene asked no one in her mind, could this be the prince in preparation for his marriage to me? The emperor said, “Now we will take you to our main hall to introduce ourselves in the manner befitting our people’s ways.” With a flourish of the royal family’s sack cloth capes they led Ilene and her group into the palace. The main hall was one of the most wonderful that Ilene had ever seen. The floor had a tiled pattern with a snow white background and was centered by blue illuminations like that of falling flakes. The room was held by four great pillars, swirled by a blend of the blue and white. Their reflection smarted Ilene’s eyes as the room had an open ceiling that shot the sun off the surface of the tiles. Ilene’s eyes began to adjust as the royal family disappeared into the shadowed corners of the room, behind the pillars. The voice of the emperor pierced through the darkness. He no longer sounded merry, but foreboding. “Men and ladies of Pangea, we present our great family that stands as great pillars to our nation of Eurasia.” A company of instruments were heard from nowhere. Unworldly strings curled softly, but sharply, in repetition that seemed to unfold the body of one of the family. It was a woman. She was dancing. She curled her limbs about in seeming obedience to the strings to wound up her every movement. Her raven hair was flaxen and straight and waved like boneless arms flopping about. She had a stare of rock, but the occasional grin with teeth so brilliant that some of the Pangean company grunted quietly with approval before the captain whipped such thoughts away with a sharp look. Ilene noticed the she was wearing a necklace liken unto the jewel on the Emperor's forehead. Then she spoke with the yawn of a blooming flower awakening. “I am the Empress Lida Ahabeus. I was born in the westward isle of Tyrsseus in the God’s kingdom of Eurasia thirty years ago. I worked under my father, who was a messenger for the emperor. The emperor saw me one day and was satisfied to have me for a wife to replace his first marriage. We gave birth to a child, the first and only heir to the empire: Jacques Ahabeus.” Lida Ahabeus made a final slide to the pillar behind her as the sharp notes lightened to a dull point until the cello’s sound was replaced by harps. Light horns trumped up bouncily as a young boy hopped on to the floor. He stared blankly with a shadow of his fierce-faced father. His smile flashed occasionally. His dance was clearly pre-choreographed as he hopped at certain marked beats of the horns while ducking and turning to the melody of the harps. He wore a headband without a jewel. All the crew smiled to see the good boy. He then introduced himself with an adorable whimper miming the words that were plainly scribed on his arm beforehand. “I am Jacques Ahabeus. I am heir to the throne. That is all you need to know. My legacy has not been written yet.” When finished, he scurried to Lida and said, “Okay. I said the thing. Can I have a cookie now?” Lida hushed Jacques and directed him to stand by the other pillar as she affirmed, “Later.” Then drums thundered triumphantly. They were equal parts made up of the players outside and some inside. The emperor himself stepped slowly out of the dark with heroic bounds over each drum thud. He did not necessarily dance, but walked slowly to the center of the room to each beat as he expounded, “I am Emperor Hailus Ahabeus. I am of the lineage of the first man who took these lands for the good of all Alpha's people. My reign is eternal. My will is law. My labors are to the blessings of all. I am the center of all that was, is, and shall ever be- never to be killed by another’s hand lest the last days of creation be upon us.” With these words, he stopped in the center of the room to a defining silence that seemed somehow more powerful after the echo of his voice and the drums. Ilene thought that the presentation was missing one more. She was right. Ilene was horrified to learn the reason the young man who she thought was a prince was dressed so strangely. No instruments were played when he stepped out of the shadows. There was the sound of whips instead. As Hailus stepped to the space between the pillars, the veiled man walked with a stiff march. Some of the crew quivered and breathed out fearfully as he seemed like a dark spirit in this dismal setting. He had no dance. He did not even have words. The whips methodically slinked from the shadows in many directions as they cracked closer, just inches from his flesh. The emperor once again spoke in the ominous tone from his introduction. “This is the spoiled fruit of my last woman’s womb. She was an in-bred whore who had her way with every man she could seduce. In truth, this is not my son. When I learned of her treachery, I had her hung from the cliff overlooking the sea for its waters to eat away at her foul body wave by wave. I kept the child for pity. But, know this: he is still an abomination, a bastard. He is not worthy of the empire. He has been accepted in the royal family as a servant. He is a vessel, a tool, a thing to be used. He is no more than an animal. He has been taught to be grateful that he isn’t whipped for his misbegotten existence even now. The mongrel’s name is Monote." Ilene's eyes nearly popped out if her head as she realized that this meant that her intended husband was to be the child. Ilene exchanged this look of surprise with Marlene. After this ceremony, Monote walked out of the light, leaving the family standing before the company. "Now that you know us better, visitors of Pangea" boomed Hailus "we offer you our hospitality as quarters have been prepared for each of you. You may rest until our dinner tonight honoring the couple before their union tomorrow." Hailus then spoke directly to Ilene. "Dear Princess, we shall pray to the great God, Alpha, that our son, Jacques, will bring you as much joy and happiness as he has brought to us. Pray equally hard that you shall give him his deserved joy as well." A chorus erupted out that sounded joyfully freed from the sands of time. They hymned a song in a foreign language that, translated, echoed Eurasia's belief in being the first and last great nation and how its leaders were to bless the world for eternity. They seemed to fade away in the shadows. The crew departed from their own military stance to scratch their heads and turn to each other, inquiring of where exactly their rooms were. Some more Eurasian soldiers from outside appeared from the shadows. One said, "This way to your rooms, everyone." The Eurasian soldiers walked into the dark. The captain was the first to follow without a flinch. Marlene followed with a bit more flinching to go into the unknown. Ilene took Marlene's hand and followed after. Everyone else surely came next into the darkness.
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Ilene sat by Marlene’s bedside while in the cabin. Ilene remained at her maid’s side for the rest of the voyage. Marlene faded to sleep. Ilene grew tired of watching Marlene, so she retrieved one of her old romance books out of her case. She knew each tale by heart, but only by the gentle voice of Marlene who read these stories to Ilene years ago by her own bed when the young princess got sick or sleepy. Now an educated woman, Ilene wished to read them for herself on this journey. She considered this the farewell to her childhood days before getting married. The last tale for Ilene to re-explore in the pile after much reading was: “The Three Noble Bachelors.”
A beautiful princess, “like you,” Marlene added to young Ilene, was of age to marry. Three men had been taken by her beauty. One was a foreign soldier in prison. His name was Allen. “Short for ‘alien,’" supposed Marlene. The other bachelor was a rich man. His name was Stanford. Marlene noted, “I’ve found the one that I would choose.” The final bachelor was a servant for the princess. His name was Franz. Marlene chuckled, “Fine aspirations for that one.” Stanford proposed to the princess and she accepted as he was a handsome and respectable gentleman. The other two bachelors never confessed their love to the lady for fear of rejection. But a war began. Stanford had to leave his love. The narrator then spent a long time bemoaning the status of each man in relation to their lady love. Allen was imprisoned and could only see the princess from afar past his cell’s window. Yet he had the longest view of her beauty as he could gaze upon her while she rode her horse in the field, her lofty hair dancing in the breeze. Franz could only bring her food. Yet he got to be closest to hear her angelic voice in thanks. Stanford could no longer do either of these things while at war. Yet he had her vow in the depths of his heart to stir a comforted spirit within him. Each man had an advantage of the dear princess. But none could have all of her. One day, Allen escaped from jail. He could have left the country. But his heart was still chained to the princess. So he stayed hidden as the soldiers searched for him. Allen spied upon her near the castle. He was planning a means to appear unto her and express the depths of his love. But Franz saw the spy and attacked him. They both learned that they each loved the princess during this struggle. The princess suddenly appeared and asked what the meaning of their fighting was. The two confessed their love for her. They explained that this was the basis of their feud. The princess tried to express to both that her heart belonged to another. Since Stanford did not yet return, both men wished to prove their love for her. Both reasoned that they could win her over if Stanford did not return alive. If not, both resolved to let Stanford have her. Both simply wanted to let their feelings go free. Allen proposed a jousting contest in the forest away from those that would capture him. Franz never had a violent encounter all his life. He knew he could not survive such a contest without dying. Yet when he saw her finally noticing him, he decided to try for the contest if only to risk it all for her. The contest began an hour later in the woods. The war-tested Allen easily bested Franz. The princess was so touched by the final dying gaze the ruined servant gave her that she utterly refused to marry Allen. Allen could not convince her that, he too, risked so much for her hand. Then one of the soldier’s in search of Allen found him in the woods. He fired an arrow and killed the fugitive. The princess flew back to her castle in tears. Stanford returned. The princess told him everything that happened. Stanford was touched by the story. In honor of their valiant sacrifices, Stanford agreed not to marry her. He proposed a law to the king to not let her marry another. For the princess's heart was already heavy with the true works of three lovers. With the story finished, the narrator proposed a riddle for the reader. Which bachelor was most noble in deserving the lady’s love if they could have had it? Was it Allen, who forsook refuge from enemy territory at the cost of his life? Was it Franz, who broke from his timid mold to stand and die a martyr for her heart? Was it Stanford who honored each man’s sacrifice by keeping the lady’s hand from himself? “So, princess,” began Marlene after finishing the story to the little Ilene, “which bachelor was most honorable to you? Personally, I would have picked the rich one.” Ilene cast a serious glance at the fire place, whose flames were waning away. “I don’t know. I couldn’t have either one. And even if I could, they were too nice to decide from. I don’t know…” Seeing the child confused by such a heavy question, Marlene kindly patted her head. “Now, now. You don’t have to worry. It was just a story. Now get some rest.” Marlene stopped the fire and cast the room into darkness. It was the most interesting story she had heard. It bested all the others about knights, dragons, and wizards. This one felt personal to Ilene as the princess in it didn’t have a name. Ilene stayed up many childhood nights deluding and considering that this story was a prophecy of the future and that she had to make the right choice. The story literally asked her for the answer. How could her young mind comprehend it all? It faded as she grew older and wiser yet the immediacy of the question landed back into her heart as she re-read it by Marlene’s bed. It was as if she was approaching crossroads to choose from. “What are you reading?” It was Marius at the open door. Ilene slapped the personal book up with a whip. Feeling as though she seemed too nervous in reaction to his entrance she tried to speak gently. “May we help you?” But her voice betrayed her. She sounded nervous and slightly curt with her response. “I didn’t scare you, now did I?” Marius asked this as he sat next to Ilene on the end of the bed. “Don’t sit there. You might sit on her legs. Give her room.” Despite Ilene’s sharp attitude, Marius could only grin playfully at her. “Don’t worry. She’s got plenty of room. And I got to have a place to sit after the wild time we just had on deck.” A silence stemmed from Ilene as she stared at the book for lack of better things to distract from her sick nanny, the growing night sky out the window, and the obnoxious shipmate that had tried her last nerve. “Anyway,” he sighed, “I really just came in to see how she was.” Ilene snapped back, “She’s fine.” Marius continued with his own snap over hers. “And, I wanted to apologize for somewhat being the cause of your maid’s fall.” Ilene slowly turned away with each of his words. Marius moved in closer. “Please, Ilene. It was just an accident.” Ilene turned back. “She’s everything I have. Everything. Understood? I almost lost her because of your…” She stopped and turned her eyes back down to her book. Marius squinted at her. “Because of my what? Look, I know can appear to be a bit-” Ilene jumped in. “Boastful?” She did not smile, though this reply did cluck a laughing affirmative out of the young mate. “Yes. That. ‘Boastful.’ It’s just… being a teenager, no older than you in fact,” this made Ilene lighten up her seating, “I just got to build myself up around these big, old, men who are full of stories and rough-housing. Do you understand?” Marlene began to cough herself awake. Ilene turned speedily back to her, casting the book to the other side of the bed. “Are you okay?” Ilene did not get a reply, only more coughs. Marius jolted to the door. “I’ll get some water.” Ilene yowled back, “No. We brought our own supply.” Marius outstretched his hands in confusion. “Well, is there anything that I can do?” Ilene’s patience jumped over the edge. “She just needs some water. Why don’t you go out there and look boastful without throwing women overboard?” Marius stiffened before his exit. “I also wanted to tell you that Osiris fished your ball out of the water during all the chaos.” Marius gently rolled it to Ilene’s chair and left. Ilene kicked it aside as she got a canteen of water out of one of the cases. Before getting it to Marlene’s lips, her coughs ended and her normal voice began to return perfectly. “If I weren’t almost dead, I’d get up from this bed and smack your head as I did when you used to forgot such basic manners.” Ilene stopped her procession to give the water. “What?” Marlene shook her head. “I mean, really. The lad was just trying to make up for his mistake.” Ilene tried to move in to give Marlene a drink. “You were awake this whole time?” Marlene patted the canteen away from her mouth. “That’s alright. I think that I’ve had enough water for one day. Let me just get my breath back.” Ilene put the canteen down. Marlene laid her hands up comfortably and sighed air within her hungry lungs with relish. “Anyway,” began Marlene, “I wished to say that I was actually asleep until you started yowling at him. It's fundamental manners, little Ilene. If you want love, give it. If you want forgiveness, give that a try with others.” Ilene stung back, “Even to those who do me wrong? Marlene… I didn’t want to lose you.” Marlene said, “Sometimes you have to let things go. Even me.” They later went to sleep. Ilene was weighed down by thoughts of choices, marriages, the mysteries of Alpha's will, what her husband would be like, how she’ll get along in this new life, how it will affect her country, Marius, forgiveness, and everything else that covered her small world that seemed so huge. All these thoughts that she tried to understand and organize finally weighed down on her eyelids and she slept. Ilene sprang for Marlene first. She didn’t scream out her name. She was mute with shock. Her shoes did all of the crying out as they carried her bolting for her beloved nanny. Ilene didn’t quite know what she would have done had she reached Marlene. Jumping after her seemed to be a foolish choice. Still, Ilene had to see if she could do something, anything. Most of all, she had to see if Marlene survived the fall alone.
Before the voyage began, the Captain gave the two ladies a quick course in surviving on the ship. “Remember: do not fall in the water while out here. It’s not a refreshing dip. It is icy cold to your body out there, and the fall from the ship on its own could kill you.” In her youth, Ilene always believed that bodies of water were the softest of pillows. Because of the Captain, she realized that they could be the cruelest of killers. The opportunity to prevent this fate for Marlene was seized by Osiris as he dived in. Marius seized Ilene before she could reach that same edge. Elbows littered the shipmate’s face. Ilene finally rang out. “Let me go! By the bloodline of Pangea I command you! Please! I need to see if she’s okay!” Not released, Ilene’s arms still hit at Marius from behind as the mate’s weighty arms coiled the rest of the girl. Ilene resorted to heavy biting. She drew a little blood. She let go as she began to taste the man’s blood. She finally managed to kick and squirm free. Cries of, “man overboard,” engulfed the ship. A great multitude gathered on the stern where once only stood four people engaged in a simple game of catch. Everyone seemed gathered. Even the Captain appeared after commanding an end to the sails. Everyone tried to veer over the edge for a sign of the stragglers. “Here! Here!” It was Osiris. He was a fine distance off. The waves and the ship’s movement before the sails went down, along with the overall height of the ship, left Osiris a nearly invisible blot. Ilene could only make out this, and another blot stamped near it. Ilene’s heart halted often between wondering if that other blot was clinging to Osiris or being born by this man for lack of movement. Until they got to the ship, Ilene did not know what to do. She supposed that all that could be done was pray that they would make it. Captain Crock boomed out, “Double-time, mates! We can’t just stand here and pray that they’ll make it. Mr. Hound, you and the other men get the biggest rope we have. Tie it to the mast, lower it into the water and prepare to heave it back with all your might to get them back up. Connor, heat some water. They are going to be half-frozen once aboard. Marius, round up some blankets. Let them hang in the same room where Connor’s water is heating. When the time comes, I want every man on that rope.” Ilene could not help but ask, “What can I do?” Forgetting he was in the presence of royalty, Crock said, “Just say some prayers, miss. We’ll need them.” Ilene disputed. “No. What can I physically do?” The Captain grew agitated as all the other men had cleared the deck to go about their jobs. “I don’t know. What can you physically do? You’ve never worked on a ship before. You’d just get in the way of the other men.” Ilene’s face seemed to stretch out in her argument. “But, Captain, that’s my maid out there. My friend! I want to do everything I can.” The Captain saw that the rope was secured. He rushed down to help with pulling once the two made it to the ship. Ilene followed him. “At least let me help with the rope.” The Captain quickly said, “You’re welcome to. I’ve no time to debate it. Just don’t get in our way." As Ilene sprinted down the steps, she saw Osiris and Marlene more clearly, as they were almost close to edge of the ship. She saw Osiris muscling each stroke with one arm. Ilene could hear him breathing trying gusts of air each time they moved. The other arm was trying to keep Marlene’s limp form afloat next to him. Ilene had to look away. She had to tell herself, She’ll be okay. Alpha won’t allow her to die this way. He is merciful and loving. She’ll be okay. I just need to do everything I can to save her. Ilene held fast to these thoughts as she held tightly to the rope. It was rippling with ridges now stretched out at the seams thanks to the tying by the men and their collective hold on it. Two of the ship’s biggest men were last in this great line upon this rope that spanned almost all of the crew. Ilene took her place in front of these two. Ilene didn’t have much room to fit herself in. She slithered by a shirtless mate with a back that was hairy as it was sweaty. She got her pink fists around the rope along with the white-hot others. A small shout from below was heard. It had to be Osiris confirming that he had grabbed the rope. All at once, the rope became a thin strip of steel as it tightened in each grip. The force of this shift in the rope’s leverage scared Ilene. Then she remembered those fingers that eased over the bookshelf to find a story to read the young princess every night by the fire. Ilene then clenched her hold along with the others. Everyone’s grunt for the great pull seemed to be a wolf pack’s howl. Ilene could barely sound a whimper as the rope felt as though it were ready to slice into her fingers like a knife. She stamped her feet down, constantly trying to restore balance to her stance. No progress seemed to be made. As Ilene’s eyes locked to the rope’s edge of the ship for a sign that someone was coming up, she considered that maybe Osiris had to climb up the rope. Then, realizing that a man holding on to a… an... unconscious woman was impossible. The Captain crowed, “Harder! Pull harder!” Everyone’s pull seemed to simultaneously surge with new energy. Ilene tried to make the same effort, but she slipped and fell into one of the bigger men. She felt the sweat and ache that had been growing upon her body rain down all at once. This onslaught washed her as she cracked her head upon the deck. The pain seemed merely to be no more than a prompt to get back up. The larger man’s brief lose in the line was felt as most of the crew faltered forward to the edge as they struggled to hang on. Ilene saw the larger man bolt back to his place with an angry resolve. She heard him growl, “stupid,” as he beamed hatefully at her. Ilene took her place again. The aches on her joints cranked her arms like the wood disjointed by nails on a puppet limited in movement short of snapping itself in half. Her sweat seemed near to drowning her. Her fingers were re-introduced to the rope’s biting vise. It was like hanging on for dear life at the point of a serpent’s fang. The pain could no longer be endured. Ilene closed her eyes to numb it. Yet this only seemed to increase her sense of misery. The eyes were slammed open when she heard another bellow from the Captain. “WAVE!” The wave towered over the ship and was prepared to hit the edge wherein Marlene and Osiris were still making their slow, painful procession up. They were barely out of the water. Marlene regained consciousness to climb back up, but she still needed one of the mate’s arms to get up the ship. It was the weight of an uphill battle piled on both the man’s arms, red from the strain. The ship was tall enough to stand the wave, but not for those out in the water. Already discouraged, Ilene turned away and laid her head aside in preparation for the greatest loss of her life. Her despairing neck led her to see a pulley system for the sails. The words that blasted over the murmur of the on-coming current sounded like another one of Crock’s commands. Ilene could not believe that they were coming from her mouth. Yet the words still raced out. “You two! See that pulley to the sails? Secure it and it will pull them out.” The two larger men were stunned by the girl’s sudden tenacity. The one who had cursed Ilene for her earlier mistake disputed, “But, I can’t pull this any harder.” Ilene, again, found herself talking with fortitude born of one desperate to save a friend. “Then give it all you’ve got or…” Ilene saw a knife in the man’s sash. The wave was almost upon the fearful eyes of Marlene. Without hesitation, Ilene snatched the knife from the sash as she pointed it into the man’s stomach. “I-I’ll stab you if you don’t pull harder right now. I mean it!” Afraid of the threat of the blade, the man hurled all his muscle’s veins back like the force of a thousand meteors. His sweat flew off him like frightened birds from an erupting volcano shifting beat by beat until he and his comrade attached the rope to the pulley. Swiftly letting it go, the lever was activated. It sprang with a zipping sound that expounded with enough power to immediately floor each man. The sail was set as a result too and thus moved the ship out of the wave’s impact as well as careening the two swimmers back on to the ship. Rising above was Osiris holding on to Marlene, crumpled in one of his arms as the other arm had the rope wrapped about it. They sprawled on to the deck like a pair of freshly caught fish. As howls of joy replaced those howls of struggle, Connor and Marius helped them into the hot blankets and slowly poured the hot water over the covered parts of their bodies as they lay there. Both were gasping loudly like wild beasts. Ilene dropped the knife, and knelt before her beloved friend to hug her neck. After Ilene kissed Marlene’s check, her eyes tilted to see the large man picking up his knife and sternly nod as if he understood Ilene’s passion that turned her to make such a terrible threat. It was a silent contract between their eyes that established that they would not tell anyone of what occurred between them. Ilene got a better look at him at this moment. Before, all that she could note of his figure was that he was big. He wore no shirt. He had a balding head of hair, pronouncing his forehead boldly. He also had a goatee as black as his hair. His eyes were green like a dragon and his jaw seemed like that of a heavy walrus. His back turned from Ilene to unveil a tattooed map of the world with its nations like body parts out of the legend of the fallen goddess: the nation of Eurasia in the southern seas representing Omega's chest and torso, the mountainous continent to the north of it as one of her arms, to the north east was the country of Ziggar as one of her legs, off-center to the east was Pangea obviously Omega's head, the tundra mountain lands to the farthest north were made up of her other arm, and the nation of Blackston was her other leg. The other large man from before stepped before him. The man was censored by the larger man’s mapped back. “Atlas! We can’t let what she did go unsaid. We must report her mutiny to the Captain.” Ilene expected a threat upon the part of the Atlas. But he merely laid his hands upon the other in a brotherly manner and said, “Let her be, Ferrio. She simply did what had to be done. Can you say the same?” Ilene turned back to Marlene. Marlene was awake, coughing wildly, but very alive. Marlene squinted her eyes to see Ilene under the sunlight and whispered, “Oh, drat. Is this hell? I see one of Omega's angels!” They laughed together again. Their laughter ceased when Osiris roared out in pain. Marius snarled at Connor. “Don’t pick him up by his arms! Can’t you see that he broke one of them holding on to the rope?” Osiris’s face was red from exhaustion. His blonde hair accented his bloody shade to look like he was in flames. “Slowly now,” muttered Marius as he and Connor maneuvered their hold on to Osiris as they carried him to his cabin to heal. While they were gone, the ship was in an uproar of celebration. Each man puffed out their chests in asserting their own individual part in the great pull to be the reason that the two got rescued. They did not know the truth. The ship proceeded back to usual business when Crock superseded their joys so that they could get back to their duties. Marius and Connor returned to help Marlene to her cabin that she shared with Ilene. Ilene could not help but scowl coldly at Marius when he arrived. It was his fault after all. A shadow loomed over their game of catch. One of the revolving islands was over their ship. These isles were one of the great wonders of nature and society. They could rotate around the planet, high above the world below like an asteroid of space. They are inhabited by traders, travelers, and merchants. These isles were used as communities. They were a means to meet people to do business with on a well-scheduled traveling cycle. When the isles hover over ships routes, cities, or pre-scheduled locations; a large conveyor pulley descends a wooden platform that carries the goods and the merchants to do dealings with those below. Such relations are short as the islands typically circumvented the world in twenty-four hours. Like a cloud, it doesn’t take long for it to pass over the ship.
As the chains cranked down to align over the ship, Ilene and Marlene were roused from their game. “I wonder what they’re selling,” said Marlene. “It’s no wonder, my dear,” said a smoking shipmate, “We’re a ship on the go after all. We need to keep on the up and up with food, water, and other necessities” As those on the upper deck looked on, they saw the Captain march before the colorfully dressed merchants. The Captain slapped the pudgiest one. As the merchant slinked his billowy red hat back atop his curly-wheat of clumpy hair he squawked, “What was that for?” The Captain, Amadeus Crock, became a decorated naval leader of Pangea for his no-nonsense protocol. He said, “Your supply of goods was short last time. We only got less than half of what we paid for. The rest of the food was either partially eaten or fully spoiled. I lost a man because of you!” The merchant flinched and winced. “Heavens! He’s dead?” The Captain glared as he put his hands on his hips. “No. He quit because he couldn’t get lunch.” The pudgy man looked to one of his fellows, a shorter and wider man in black. This other man was guiltily slurping up a cookie in fear and guilt. Turning back, the head merchant said, “I wasn’t around for that run, sir. It must have been Jake who was in charge.” Crock looked to his captivated crew in frustrated disbelief. He looked back. His hairy, hard hands were suddenly like small swords. “I distinctly remember a man in such a hat,” said Crock as he whipped the soufflé-like hat to be followed by the merchant trying to pick it up. “I also remember this idiotic cape,” said Crock as he swished it around to choke the merchant about the neck. “I even remember the same the same green blouse, and yellow boots,” said Crock as he used his leg to slide behind the yellow stockings to trip the tradesman on to the wooden floor. “I remember all of these same tacky trappings on the same fat man whose stomach poked out of it. I distinctly remember who deals with me. This con-man was most easy to recall because he was color-coated,” said Crock as he held the trader up only by hanging the culprit by his throat with his own cape. “Now the question is: will this same man claim responsibility for his actions?” The man tried to scathingly speak and breathe. “Prrhpsh… we… cnnn… mkkkk… uh… comprmshsh…?” The captain spilled the gasping trout upon the hard floor. “Repeat.” A dramatic sigh sounded. “Sweet air! Her kiss was missed!” “Repeat.” The merchant sighed, happy to feel air again. “Anyway, I said: Perhaps we can make a compromise. Then I think I died. I do apologize for our unfortunate dealings last time. Royal Services is an enterprise that prides on excellent service. But you have to remember the words of the Prophetess Ada: 'we come from an imperfect race. We make mistakes. There is no need for shame in this.' There is also no need for stone-hearted murder.” Crock sternly asked, “Enough of that, whelp. You were in no danger. I recall the Prophet Sygar saying: 'Sometimes you have to prick the mule to get it to stand up straight.' Now what of this compromise you speak of?” “Suppose we only charge you half of what is normally done for this present order, that way it is all even.” The Captain flipped the cape back behind the merchant. “Only a fourth. Now load us up.” The merchant snapped to an orange suited mate decorated with bells. “You heard the man, Jake. Get the stuff moved." Jake replied, “Why? So you can blame me for another order as you push me around like a pack-mule?” Red rage splotched the leader’s face as he said. “It’s like the Captain said. If you don’t go on the straight path, I’ll prick you for all your stubborn whinnying. Now go.” Transfixed by the small drama, Marlene whispered to Ilene as if they were commenting on a play. “Seems this little pack of mules has appointed an Alpha-ass. Don't you think that they look a trifle familiar?” The merchant-men proceeded with carrying the goods to the lower quarters of the ship with little to no help from Crock’s crew. Most of the goods were in crates. Ilene noticed an hour-glass and a medium-sized mirror held precariously by Jake who gave a sour look to the main man via the reflection of the mirror. While they made these trips, Ilene had some of the mates bring up lunch: a nice sandwich and glass of milk to go with the show. When they were done, Crock approached the pudgy one. “What is your name? I wish to contact your supervisor about your unsavory behavior.” “Name’s Isaac Inklewood. But I’m afraid that I don’t have a supervisor. Royal Services is a freelance business. We don’t just transport goods. We also do many other jobs, including: entertainment. Sir Jake, despite his less than cheery moods, was once a fine jester for the Emperor of Pangea himself.” As Ilene washed her chicken sandwich down with milk, she turned to Marlene. “Oh, now I remember that man. He was the one who pretended to fall down a lot.” Marlene said nothing to this as she abruptly got up. She couldn't keep her eyes off of the jester. Jake turned upon hearing his name just as the crate carried by one of the men snapped and cracked the man to the floor. The ship, including Isaac, erupted in snickers at this. “Hm. It appears that not a lot has changed.” At last, Isaac was about to receive his payment when the platform started slowly cranking upward. It gradually went higher and faster. The time for the orbiting sphere to go out of alignment was upon them. With a cry of curses, Isaac ran to the rising platform using mightily chugging legs. Before the platform went out of range, Isaac made a leap. His jaw, and then his arms managed to clop on to the platform. “Help me up,” he begged. Jake stood over him. Jake crossed his arms as he stared down upon his fellow merchant. “All right,” gruffly said Isaac, “I’m sorry! Now: up! Or I’ll pull you down.” The bells of the jester jingled down to retrieve poor Isaac. When standing up straight again, Isaac implored the Captain to throw him his payment. The Captain tossed a small bag of coins. Isaac might have caught it if the platform had not been swiftly raised by the conveyor slightly enough to have the bag’s destination be replaced by the panel’s edge rather than Isaac’s biting fingers. The finances plopped into the water. As Isaac rose above the crow’s nest, he asked the man there with crowing concern, “Tell the Captain to give me double on the next delivery.” The request was mimicked to the Captain below. “I will do no such thing,” was the indignant reply of the naval leader. But the chain had pulled the merchants well out of ear shot, though a cannon’s echo of groaning lamentations were heard crackling upon the ears of the crew below. The jester caught sight of Marlene. He kept his gaze fixated on her as much as her own on him. The Captain paced back to his position by the steering. “Blood licking merchants. They live on those isles because no one wants them down here.” The sails were then ordered back into action. “Come on now. No more shows. We still must get the princess to her wedding.” Ilene touched Marlene in concern for her staring at the merchants. "Marlene? Are you okay?" As the sails were whipped back into shape, Marlene turned to Ilene and said, “It’s my obligation as your maid to tell you that her ladyship has had enough excitement for one day. But as your friend, I know you’ll disagree and beg to toss the ball about some more.” Marlene was hiding something, but Ilene was respectful enough to discretely ignore it. Their lunch’s table was cleared by some mates tumbling them out of place. The waves seemed less active and gentler in their swishes. The sun was beginning to wan. Though Ilene’s eyes were beginning to wan too, she agreed with Marlene’s statement and wished to play some more. The ship would reach Eurasia the next day. As foolish as it may seem to some, Ilene wanted to make her last free day as a girl last as long as possible. As the two friends threw the ball, one of the two men on the rudder exclaimed, “There! We’ve finally sanded down this crack in the bloody thing.” The two men were about to leave from their work when Marlene called them. “Ahoy, mates. Do you fancy a game of catch?” The biggest, and apparently oldest, had long hair and an even longer beard. The other one had red hair nearly shaved down to the round of his head. He also had scruffs of red hair on his face in the attempt of a beard. The blonde said, “I don’t believe our captain would like that. We may have more work to do now that we are done with the rudder.” The red snickered, but the blonde jabbed him fast enough to silence him. “Besides,” the blonde continued, “I’m no master of regal protocol, but I don’t believe that we lay-folk are worthy to be in her ladyship’s presence, even for a… game of catch.” Ilene replied, “Don’t fret. For ‘her ladyship’ has more authority on this ship than your Captain. Thus, it is my royal, regal, and- er, Marlene? Do you have another synonym with ‘R’ that you can think of?” “Hm… ‘righteous?”’ “-And my righteous will that you boys can have a break.” The two men looked to one another, gesturing and shrugging in confusion as to what they should do. Ilene then ceased their quibbles by asking, “What are your names, boys?” The blonde said, “I’m Osiris.” The red said, “I’m Marius. You may not remember, but we were part of that quartet that played you that song just now.” Marlene gasped for joy. “Her grace just adored it. We were just talking about it not so long ago.” The two knowingly sneered at each other with affection. Marius began to boast with his hands contently crossed over his chest. “I wrote that whole thing. Your world-renowned beauty was my muse. And may I say that I came short of fully representing it, dear Ilene.” Ilene blushed and looked down a bit. No one had ever called her simply ‘Ilene’ outside of those from home. It was always: ‘majesty,' 'grace,’ or, ‘ladyship.’ Osiris stirred the pride of Marius away. “You didn’t write that song. Mr. Hound did. You only added in that last line.” Osiris then said something that was less outspoken as he drew closer to Marius. “And do not make advances to the lady. She is to be married, you flirtatious goon.” Marius disputed the former dispute. “But, Osiris, what a finish I made, eh?” Osiris turned to Ilene and said, “I beg your ladyship’s pardon for my nephew. He likes to stand tall for show.” Marius quipped, “It’s better than standing small for a foe.” “Sounds as though we are both collaborating lyrics to a new song, little one,” returned Osiris. Hearing this, Ilene noted that she was a hair taller than Marius. “Well, now that we’ve all gotten to know each other better, now may we play a bit? I promise not to tell the Captain. And if he does find out and say anything, I’ll feed him a verse about how you lads were just serving my need for… personal entertainment, or something like that.” Marlene agreed. “I’m sure he’ll understand. He wouldn’t punish Mr. Marius, the greatest song writer of the sea.” With this, the men laughed their fears away and played. Each player went to their own corner of the bow's deck. For fear of dropping the ball, Osiris merely rolled it to Ilene across the way. Marius, always cocked to tease his uncle said, “What do you call that?” Osiris said, “A precaution. I don’t want to accidently throw the ball overboard.” Marius mocked on as he threw it to him. “Weren’t you listening to Ilene? There is no need to fret. You worry too much, Uncle Osiris.” Osiris made the beginning rumblings of one of his stern lectures as he rolled the ball back to Ilene, “My boy, you would do well to be more cautious in life. Take Eurasia. It was once a land of giants.” Ilene threw the ball to Marlene, who looked curiously at Osiris. Marius swiped his hand at Osiris’s words as he caught the ball thrown by Marlene. “Those are just fairy tales. There are no giants in Eurasia.” Marius threw the ball back to Osiris. “That’s because they were all killed off.” Osiris did not throw the ball this time. He sat there and held the ball as he told of the legend. “Once, Eurasia was where the giants dwelt. They say that they were the children of the god and goddess who created the world. Mankind was the children of the giants. The children of the giants grew insubordinate of their masters, like the goddess did to the god once. A war started. The brutality, not the size, of the people against the giants won the land for the humans. The giants were enslaved, tortured, and killed. It’s why Eurasia has such big buildings despite being one of the poorer nations. Those were prisons once. They were made by the bones other giants. When you hear thunder, that is the echoes of those giant's cries coming from those very structures in the night. Some men found the treatment of the giants terrible and tried to fight the new rulers. But they were defeated and cast out. This is how the other nations, such as Pangea, formed over the centuries. Over these centuries, the giants went extinct. Some say a giant or two escaped and now they wander the ocean as one would wade through an endless swamp. Now, I’m not saying that the legend is true. I’m saying that I’ve seen men of Eurasia on the battlefield. The sheer fury and effort they put into every action makes me believe that these are people that could oppress giants. If not for their current lack of wealth, allies, and total ambition; I believe Eurasia could take the greatest giant of all: the world. I just want you to know what kind of place we’re going to, Marius.” Osiris looked to Ilene. “I wish the same to you, Ilene. I pray your marriage to the Prince of Eurasia does not signal dark times for us all. Your father as emperor of the richest nation is exactly what Eurasia needs after all these years.” Osiris rolled the ball to Marius. Marius then held the ball as if considering his uncle's story. Then he stretched out a cocky grin with a sniffle of snark. “They probably just made that stuff up to sound tough. I know a boaster’s tall-tale when I hear one.” Marius beamed the ball to Marlene. The ball fumbled in her hands. She tried to lock her fingers around it. She backed a few paces to get her footing. Then she lost her footing. Before any gasps were breathed in, the maid fell overboard with the ball. |
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