They jumped from the room as it was shredded by a volley of cannon fire screaming through. They sprinted up each staircase, skipping over three steps on their way to the deck. As they reached the top of each staircase, more fire made the steps disintegrate in a hail storm of splintered wood. Marius pushed Ilene along to keep her out of the line of fire. He slowed his own progress by doing this. A shot crammed past both of them. The shock of this feedback left them separated by a gaping hole in the staircase’s structure.
“You’ve got to jump,” she shouted. “Just go,” he retorted. The sudden flux in the broken ship’s balance made its body veer on the verge of busting at the wooden seams of beams. It crowed horribly. Ilene could hear the captain’s bell madly ringing in answer to the ship’s gurgling swan-song. Ilene then felt a strong sea air that trembled her and Marius’s clothes as they were ruffled into a thousand different shapes a second. Ilene could also see the wide blue sea and sky shadowed by the on-coming ships with the hovering isle floating, seemingly, in-tow overhead. This wind did not help with the ship’s sudden imbalance as it rocked the vessel severely. This crisis nearly caused Marius to fall out of one of the holes on the wall. But the crew’s return fire from this side kicked the ship back into the other direction slightly enough to knock Marius back into the other direction with a flesh and bone smacking sound that made Ilene’s mouth gag a little. Ilene held on to the edge of the wall during this swaying, but she stiffened her legs with all her might. “Jump, jump,” repeated Ilene ready to beg for as long as she had to. “I’ll catch you! I will!” Bruised and groaning from the pain of being slammed about, Marius had no will to argue. He could see that in those rippling eyes that she was not going to leave him in the same way that she had to leave Marlene. He jumped over the rift. Ilene launched both of her arms out to grab him. She locked her fingers into his sweaty elbows and struggled against their slipping. He swung into the staircase’s jagged edge. His knees were stabbed into the splintered wood impaling out. Small, but prickling and unbearable spurts of blood spotted his legs. “That hurt,” he mumbled with a small yell. Ilene’s heels were giving. Her sweat was a waterfall ready to pull her in. A new shot was barreling towards them. Ilene didn’t know what to do. Ilene was grabbed by strong, familiar, arms that whisked both her and Marius from the edge. “I got you both,” said Atlas. “Hey, I helped too,” protested Osiris, whose arm was still in a tightened grip about Atlas’s arm. He said to Marius, “You didn’t think that I’d let you go for a dip with a pretty girl without my permission, did you nephew?” The good cheer aroused in the party’s safe passage past death could not continue as they heard Crock from atop the deck. “Get up here now, fools! Only Mr. Hound and I are managing cannons! We need all of you up here!” The group ascended to the deck. The deck was in ravaged ruin. The mast’s sails were in ragged tatters. While the upper portions of it were cut away. Holes lined almost every step. A fire bubbled over the stern where a game of catch was once played on a lazy afternoon at sea. Ash snowed in the air with the isle creating intense shade from above. The isle was practically curtained over the enemy ships. These ships were so close that everyone could see the faces jeering and rioting with their swords for a chance to see the proud Pangean nation fall as surely as this dying craft. Trotting over what little deck that was held together, they made their way across. The ship wailed upon each stamp, threatening to snap the floor. The threat never reached resolution. A descending ball was spotted by Atlas and he gathered the whole of the group in his arms and rowed them into the door of the cannon room and they all fell down its stairs into the main chamber before the ball crashed through the main deck down into what was left of the lower quarters. As they scrambled to their feet, Ilene caught Hound in the midst of pulling the rope for a cannon. The resounding cry of the blast nearly splashed her back upon the floor. Crock was rushing to load another round. Both men were drenched with sweat and sea water. Both had their sleeves rolled up and their shirts unbuttoned. Crock’s hat was gone. The man seemed shortened and demeaned without it, revealing a balding head with his grayish beard slithered down his war-wrinkled face. Hound kept his hat on, veiling his eyes still. “Don’t just stand there,” yelled the captain with the same authority, but with a touch of trembled nerves. “Atlas, Osiris, I need you on firing! Marius, Ilene I need you on the ammo! Target the orb! Bring it down and we can still win this!” Marius began to reason, “Captain Crock, that orb has gained too much distance towards us. Bringing it down into the water now could kill us too.” Crock took the ball he had picked up and shoved it into the chest of Marius. The younger mate barely wrapped a hold on to the ammo as it impacted him and drew out a lot of breath. “Go back on the deck and take another look at what’s left of this battered carcass of a ship if you disagree, boy. We’re going down anyway. We might as well take them with us.” With unnerved sweat jumping from his brow, Marius brought the ballistic burden to the nearest cannon. He spouted, “Sir-” in an attempt to salute. But Crock carried on with his worked before Marius could finish with, “-yes, sir.” Ilene began handing ammo to Atlas though it raked every fiber of her pampered arms with soreness. Atlas fired them as quickly as Ilene could hand them. As the firing went on, Atlas began to out-pace Ilene and take ammo to load ahead of her. Ilene could not tell if Crock refuted this practice as the sequence of blasts from each nation’s navy drowned all words out. Ilene pushed on with her task anyway. She knew that Atlas wanted her to stop by the looks that he gave her so that she would not hurt herself. But along the way of this hard battle, Ilene understood that it was either her life or theirs, and Ilene was not forsaking her life when she still had so much life ahead of her to figure out what to live for. Whether for revenge against her enemies or the self-prosperity found in living well, each twinge of aching joint and beading of sweat danced over her as she was made a puppet by herself through the repetition of the ever-weighing fight within her soul and body’s resolve had the purpose of wishing for nothing more than to continue on with all that she had within her and beyond. Enemy ballistics began to rain through the chamber’s wall. They made Ilene jump out of her routine, only to start them again. She saw everyone else fighting on just as hard. They were growing red and hardened just as harshly as herself. Ilene saw Marius handing his ammo to Osiris in droves. The uncle and nephew were a good team in keeping pace with one another. Their synchronicity in timing their hand-offs showed a strong bond in how the two looked to each other between each shot. They knew that they could be looking at each other for the last time. They were brief, but not time-consuming, glances of respectful farewells linking each eye that was hardened afraid. The Pangean’s shots began to chip away at the above orb. The stone isle's side began to fall in mounds upon all three enemy ships. Most of the debris hit the water. This began to make waves that shook the ship’s floor to a frenzy that made everyone lose their footing. The cannons remained in their place as being nailed down prevented them from falling about in such circumstances. The same could not be said of the cannon-balls that lobbed about the place during this wavering of the ship from the wave’s weight. One ball crunched into the shoulder of Osiris’s broken arm and he yelled out in misery. The floor nearly turned into a wall, ramming everyone into the chamber's opposite side. Atlas managed to hold fast to one of the cannons during this inversion. When the wave subsided, it re-set itself and crashed and dragged everyone back to their original footing. Hound got his head clanged against a cannon during this chaos. His hat was knocked off as he lay in corner, dead or unconscious. This wasn’t the only blow to the crew. A mountainous blast, sounding like an endless horn's call, blared as a mound of falling rock began rapidly trickling on the decks. The mast’s base broke up. Osiris could hear the spire begin to topple. From its high-pitched scraping, he could tell it was toppling into the cannon’s chamber. Marius tried to help his fallen uncle up. “Are you all right?” “Marius,” whispered Osiris. Then he turned the whisper into a raw cry. “Get down!” The last thing that Osiris felt before the mast broke into the roof of the cabin as well as his back was his hands safely flying Marius out of the way. Marius got up to see a room with the floor uplifted by the sudden weight and dust fogging every direction. As the dust cleared some, he could see the mast’s tip piled atop a splatter of human organs and a weakened hand twitching under this mass. Noise barely chirped from Marius’s heavy throat. Marius crawled sloppily to the hand. Osiris was already dead. Only his muscle spasms in his good arm remained. The hand grasped about thoughtlessly reaching for anything. Marius caught the hand and felt its final cold ebbs before it lost all residual energy. Marius put his other hand on top. He wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t make a noise from his burdened throat. He bowed his head deeply into his uncle’s hand. The mast’s descent was almost perfectly placed within the center of the room. The impact scattered the ammunition about the floor on top of the areas that were not shattered. The rest of the crew steered clear from the wreck just in time thanks to Osiris’s warning. They were all spread away from each other. They scrambled into some corners of the room for their respective escape routes from the cataclysm. Ilene nearly tripped into the corner wall as she wobbled over the still dormant body of Mr. Hound. Atlas and Crock tried to recover their bearings as they returned to the cannons. But when the dust finally cleared, Atlas’s eyes were reeled back to see the desperate loss that Marius was enduring. Crock jabbed at the shoulder of the man to reignite his actions. “Come on, Atlas. There’s nothing you can do. We’ve enough problems on our shoulders. That isle could fully break down with just one more shot.” Atlas was about to fire again after Crock loaded a ball when he saw the largest of the day's shocks that made the big man feel very small. Feet were seen in the distance. Giant feet were falling into the water. They fell into the water far behind the over-hanging isle’s edge. The rest of the great body clamored into the water like a reverse eruption of a volcano, slow and awe-inspiring. A low and mighty hum drowned out even the cannon fire. Though smaller than the isle, the bare giant towered over the ships. Thus, an intense myriad of waves grew from his landing into the sea. This was a new problem to add to the plate of the crew. Ilene was just getting up to feel the tremendous arrival of the giant shake the very ocean floor. She trembled at the sight of the arms that could swat to pieces all the ships in one blow. Atlas scowled at the sight of the large fugitive that came from the supposedly deserted orb. Then Atlas stared more intently at Crock. Crock met Atlas’s gaze and was grabbed about the neck before the captain could explain himself. “You said that this isle was deserted,” he growled to his commanding officer with an ever tightening vise. “Let me guess: you came across this in your travels. You thought it’d make a good place to start your own port. It’s large with much wildlife to survive with. Then you discovered that the last of the giant race lived there. So you let it slide until your opportunity came. And what better way to get what you want than land it on our enemies. Then what? Kill their survivors? Drive them out? You wanted to finish the job that the Eurasians started years ago. They did it for power. You’re doing it for profit! You’re worse than them!” “Please,” hacked Crock, “I wanted to leave something for… my family.” With the weakest splinter left in his voice, Crock whispered, “Live or… die… I wanted to leave this isle to them. My son… needed land for… business.” Atlas was partially touched by this confession. So he released Crock to the captain’s relieved gasping. The large man was made much larger as Crock dropped to his knees in a panic for air. Atlas spied out the window as he noticed that no new shots were fired. “The waves seem to have sunken all the enemy ships. Looks like your plan worked, at least the part that we agreed upon.” Crock raised his worn eyes as he wanted to cry for celebration, but could barely muster up a cough that cast his visage down again. Atlas was not so touched as to morally release the captain as he did his throat. Atlas stared out at each ship as they were torn to pieces by the raging sea. “Growing up in the slums, the other kids always accused me of being akin to one of those giants.” Atlas began an impression of one of those children so accurately that he surprised himself. “‘Stone the giant! Cut the fat giant down to size! HAW! HAW!’ Those stones were the first pain that I ever remember feeling.” Atlas rubbed his arm where an old scar lived. “I was too big to fit in. Dad said that it wasn’t because of that. It was because someone my size should not be so gentle. He said I was too much like my mother, Alpha rest her soul. He constantly suggested that I take to sea life, become strong like him. I did not become a mate for his approval. I did it to get away. I wanted to live away from the taunts among other miseries of slum life. Part of me, I think, wanted to venture the seas to, perhaps, behold one these endangered behemoths said to still wander the ocean while feeding off of leviathan fish and live upon deserted isles. Most believed them extinct. Others could only dream of proving the myth true. I think that’s why we have myths. They give us something to think of other than our own poor lives.” Crock put his hand on the cannon, brushing against one of its firing ropes. Atlas looked out at the only person that he has seen that far exceeded his size. “You managed to find one, sir. Out of everyone, it was you. You discovered one of the greatest mysteries of the world. While some of us only could look forward to work, marriage, and death; you had the opportunity to change the world. The woman that I took for my own was the only one who was kind to me, from childhood upwards. We had a daughter. She got the same disease of my ill-breeding that I have. She was big, too big. The kind of big that one cannot craft into a specimen like mine. She could not move. Eventually the strength she needed to move made her young heart give out. She never stopped trying to move and be strong. If I could only describe the kind of conviction it took for her to get out of bed each day even without our help-!” Atlas began to loosen himself out of control. Leaning over Crock, again, “I’ve seen what I’ve had to do for my family, Crock. The horrors that you’ve done to that giant are all on you. What if all the rest of his family was left on that isle?” Crock croaked. “My boy, Pratt, he was in debt. We needed to help his trading business or his family was losing their home.” “So you decided to do this at the cost of that giant’s home?” Crock and Atlas were both silent. The ship was silent. The chamber was practically the only holding that was still able to float. Ilene crawled to Osiris’s arm and linked her arms over the bowed head of Marius. She watched the two men begin to stare at each other for a long period. Finally, Crock spoke up with his full breath back. A conviction rose steadily stirring from his voice. “I was… am willing to pay anything to help those I love.” Crock then jerked the cannon’s firing string. With perfect timing on Crock’s part, the ball managed to strike the knee of the giant. Sprawling back in agony, the behemoth crumbled his head into the side of the isle’s soil. The force of this impact was so great that it shattered the ends of the isle’s lower ground. This created a stream of mountainous boulders and rocks galloping into the water. What followed was the billowing of an army of waves from this avalanche. Most of the influences of the upset ocean were cut off by the towering legs that managed to regain their footing in the below leagues at the bottom of the sea. Enough surfs wandered past for the crew to feel these ripples shake the ship in every sickening multi-direction that their beaten bodies could barely endure. Ilene yelped as she was hurled to the other end of the chamber, away from Marius who held on to the busted mast. That was not even the worst of it. With the gravity of the isle's balance upset by this large portion broken off, the orb faltered and quaked like a teeter-totter during a storm. Then it feel. It speared its way into the sea. It created the god of all waves. It even over-took the hapless giant, made a drowned ant before its might. The wave was encroaching quickly to the crew’s cabin. “Even my soul, Atlas! I’m even willing to pay my soul to help my son!” He cackled madly and shook his fists in the horrified face of Atlas. “Now Pratt will always succeed. He can make his own port, even nation! Oh, but how to tell him? He will! He must!” Crock cackled on, grasping Atlas’s shoulder to hold him up as if he were overpowered by the funniest joke of all. “You old fool,” hushed Atlas looking helplessly out the window. “You killed us all,” he mumbled listlessly. Atlas rubbed his head with his hand. Unable to bear all that lay outside the window, Atlas slumped down. He closed his eyes and breathed softly. He opened his eyes as he pulled a picture out of his pocket. Atlas stared coldly at the picture as the wave closed in. Crock broke from his revelry. “Is that your family?” Atlas did not answer as he kept looking at the picture. Crock slumped down next to him. “Maybe I’ll see them again,” Atlas finally said. Another pause lay under the water's steady rumble. Then Atlas said in bitter after thought, “But these people: Ilene, Marius… and poor Osiris; they won’t get a chance at anything. Were they part of what you were willing to sacrifice for you son’s prosperity?” Crock balled himself into a fettle position as the wave rumbled closer. “Let’s let each other die in peace,” he whimpered, “that’s an order.” Ilene closer her eyes too as she took in the calm before the disastrous end. Her last sight of the crew was Atlas and Crock balled up like sleeping babes, Mr. Hound still spilled upon the floor, the mast still planted over Osiris’s ruined body, and Marius staring with haunting serenity into her as he held on to Osiris. This calm did not last as long as she hoped. The walls split with the fury of a thousand knocks made by the rushing streams of water. Ilene felt the effects of the bursting onslaught. Like hounds on a hunt, the gushes of liquid swept her body into a jerking whirlwind of chaos. Ilene’s eyes were clamped shut throughout. She felt everything spill over her as the world became cold and quiet. She heard air-bubbles break from her nose. Ilene felt herself floating in the loose gravity underwater. She felt lost within a womb of timeless infinity. Infinity hurt for a finite moment as she bumped into the edge of the ship's hole before being sucked out. She had to reach the surface. Air dwindled with each pricking sting of her neck.
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Within the galleys of the Pangean ship, two young souls shared a meal. They were nestled within a corner of the ship that was completely bordered with wood. No windows were put in this part of the ship’s design for fear that seeing the waves outside would cause sickness if seen by those at meal. In the room was a table framed about with some cutting tables, a stove for boiling, and some crates of the food stuffs bought on the ship’s most recent trade. The chef of the ship falling during the recent catastrophe left the two without a means to properly cook their own food. So they made due with the raw fruits and vegetables. Marius and Ilene each got a crate and put them on the table. Marius chose a crate of apples. Ilene chose a crate of carrots. They sat in front of their chosen crates. Ilene brought some of her water from her room. Marius took some of the ship’s alcohol.
“It’ll just be for washing the apples down,” assured Marius to Ilene's concerned look at him. They began to eat and their spirits became fattened as well as their bellies as a result. They said nothing between each of their bites. Marius and Ilene began to accumulate two little towering ziggurats of apples and carrot wastes. Mostly satisfied, Marius took some flavor craving bites of his final apple for sport rather than hunger as he happily sighed, “Much better. I’ve always said that a good meal makes even the worst of days glad again.” Ilene winced shut one eye for the apple juice flying from the mate’s filled-mouth as he spoke. Ilene nibbled into another carrot and swallowed it. “Don’t chew with your mouth open if you don’t mind. But you’re right. The food is indeed good. I mean, it’s no royal banquet, but I find that a good meal does quiet one’s body if not their soul from its troubles.” Marius swallowed his bit of apple and raised the remaining husk. “Hear, hear! To the glory of food.” Ilene did likewise with her remaining bit of carrot, smiling some, daring to forget the past few days. “To the glory of food. May it dwell happily in our bellies!” “And beyond,” saucily suggested Marius with an oral fart over his tongue to the snickering of both youngsters. Marius further said, “I wonder if it is possible to become drunk with food as well as with drink. We’re certainly starting to sound like a pair of rowdy drunks.” Ilene shrugged shyly as she tossed the finished carrot stub into her pile. “We haven’t eaten for nearly two days. Being able to finally fill ourselves is, oh what’s the word…?” Before taking another series of chomps into his apple, Marius suggested, “Euphoric?” Ilene’s eyes squinted merrily as she agreed. “That’s it! I’m in euphoria over food.” “The glory of food,” Marius shouted through his filled mouth again as he raised his apple and slammed his fist triumphantly on to the table. Ilene slapped his dense shoulder like a whip. “Stop that, you! You’re getting apple sauce all over my sun-dress. I’ll have your disgusting arse thrown out of this restaurant if you don’t behave properly. Now chew your food.” “Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” he joked. Ilene got another carrot from the crate on the table and raised hers as well before devouring it. Ilene exerted her happiness a bit too far as she considered what awaited them back on deck. Her smile and squinting eyes faded into the floor. “Too bad a meal, no matter how good, can’t allow us to forget those ships waiting for us up there.” Marius swallowed his apple bits and looked to Ilene’s sad face. He missed her smile. “Don’t worry, princess. Maybe they got bored and left us.” Both managed to snicker and hoot at this superfluous theory as they faded into a thick mist of silent brooding once again. “Fat chance, right?” “Grossly overweight,” stated Ilene. “Hey,” wondered Marius , “how many carrots have you exactly had, little lady?” “Too many,” admitted Ilene, “I’ve always loved carrots. I once tried to eat a whole basket of them before a dinner when I was just a little princess.” “How did that work out?” “Marlene found me stuffed into the cabinet with nearly half of the carrots in my mouth. She lectured me as she whipped me all the way to my room. Went something like this:” she began to resurrect her maid’s voice, ‘“you ought to be ashamed of yourself, little Ilene. The grand duke from the colony of Blackston came all this way for a finely roasted pork and now you can’t eat dinner with him because you’ve spoiled your stomach.”’ ‘“Oh dear,”’ mocked Marius using an impression based on an uppity accent found among the aristocracy in the Blackston colony, ‘“how dare that impudent child not dine in my majestic presence? Oh, well. More roasted pork for my fat self.”’ Marius slobbered loudly into his next apple with exaggerated ravenousness. “And it came at a higher price than that,” continued Ilene using a faux ominous tone in her voice. “for you see: I was never to eat carrots again after than night. I got a severe stomach ache from all those carrots and I puked all over the sheets in my room’s bed.” “Don’t be embarrassed,” assured Marius as he patted Ilene’s hand to her blushing, “I puked during most of my first few days out here at sea. The mates still joke that this is why the ocean looks slightly greener these days.” “I thought that I noticed that the sea was a little contaminated.” “Ah, so you did notice.” He laid his hand over his face like a dramatist. “Will my shame never end?” Munching on her carrot again, Ilene said, “So, anyway, I got my spankings for that re-coloring of the sheets out of it. But I got some fine new indigo sheets out of it too. I still sleep in them at home. Only, I couldn’t eat carrots after that. They made me think of how sick I got.” Marius tossed away the last of his apple. “They don’t seem to be making you sick now.” “I think I needed to eat them again, though. A sweet treat from childhood to fill the dark blot of these past days.” Heavy silence fell upon the room again as the two stopped eating. The ship creaked with a yawn. “So,” began Marius, “what are your plans when you return?” Ilene leaned back into her chair, trying to consider the slim chance of their surviving. Her eyes tried to stretch out into the unimaginable future that lay before her as she let a gasp of air out. “A funeral. I’m going to have a funeral for Marlene. And I’m making sure it is an event. I know only royalty have great gatherings upon their deaths. But I’ll make sure she gets her proper respects. She was more than any queen or king. More than a mother, she was my friend, my…” “Guardian angel?” Ilene was trapped between smile and frown. The smile grew from realizing that Marlene was always there for her, just like a guardian angel. Marlene was there for her first step to help her when she fell. She was there to teach Ilene how to read, and even correct her when she was wrong. Marlene was even going to be there for Ilene’s wedding day. That’s when the frown interfered. To realize that no more of these memories could be made left Ilene feeling detached from the world in a way she could never redeem. For Marlene seemed to center Ilene’s world. And when Ilene’s angel died, Ilene herself felt like a fallen angel. Marius further inquired. “Well, funerals are funerals and all. The real question is: what are you planning on doing after it’s over?” The thought of this came to Ilene like a bullet through her head. The princess closed her eyes while imagining the sneering lips that told her what one must do to get what one wants in this world. Those same lips ordered the death of Ilene’s angel. Ilene started to think that maybe Lida was right. Ilene’s eyes blazed open. “War. I want my parents to wage way on Eurasia for what they did. I want them to bring those old ziggurats down upon their miserable heads!” Ilene struck her fist upon the table. It had the fierce finality of a judge passing a death sentence with a gavel. Ilene’s cup of water fell, but she didn’t care. Her eyes remained fixated on her pan for vengeance. Marius put his hand upon her clenched fist. Ilene went red again, but not with shyness. She was red with fury this time. “Ilene, calm down. You’re upset. You don’t mean that.” Ilene yanked her hand away from his. “Keep your hands off me! Do you think that I’m just some frail, pampered little princess? Well, I’m not! And I’m going to make sure no one oppresses me again. I’m starting with helping the captain flatten that Eurasian scum outside.” Marius argued, “Look, there’s no doubt that we need to kill to survive in this situation, but you’re talking about killing an entire nation, filled with innocent people, for a personal vendetta." Ilene squinted in contempt. “So you’re on Lida’s side now?” “No! I just don’t want to see a lovely girl like you turn into a cruel woman like Lida. Besides, you can’t declare war on a country. Only your parents have that authority.” The mention of her first oppressors made her wrench her head away in disdain. “I know my parents have all the authority in this matter. Nothing has changed. I simply draw satisfaction that even they will not ignore how brutally the Eurasian people treated me when I was to be treated as a royal guest.” “I just know that you couldn’t live with yourself if you felt responsible for so much death.” “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear: you don’t know me. You didn’t even talk to me until the last day on this boat. So you don’t have any cause to judge what I think is righteous recompense.” Marius grabbed another apple in flexing frustration. He got up from the table and stood by the door, away from Ilene. He did not eat the apple. He only stared into it as if he were the god judging the world in his hands. Ilene couldn’t help but break a bit from her anger to ask, “Did you really just refer to me as ‘lovely’ as part of your argument?” She wiped her out-of-place bangs back. They were rocked out by her yelling. Marius put the apple on the table and stood over Ilene, staring into her rippling eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of killing in my short time at sea. Some of it justified, most of it… not so just. Sometimes I only looked on. While other times, I participated. I’m not proud of it, but I know what had to be done. I won’t say that the situation that we’re in now is a typical day, but the crew and I know the moral stakes even if we don’t talk about them. There is a kind of… respect that we give our enemy. Because we’ve seen how horribly vile people can be to each other. You’re still young. Despite what you’ve seen, who you’ve lost, you’re still innocent. You’ve no blood on your hands. I know you want back at Lida, but leave it to people like me who are used to it.” He put his hands on her shoulders as he begged, “Please don’t look for revenge. You’ll find it. And instead of satisfaction, you’ll feel a ton of hurt instead. Because I went after the man who killed my father for his debt. After searching for days on the docks of Pangea, I found him standing over the pier one night. It was just the description that Osiris gave of the man he chased off. I pushed him right in. No one saw. I then jumped in to hold him down in the shallows of the waters from the first of his kicking of limbs while yelping for help to the last bubble that popped above the surface. I don’t want you to feel the way that it has made me feel since then, not a nice girl like you. Stay safe. Stay pampered. Maybe that’s how we should all live. But we don’t. We can’t. You can’t help who lives well or vile in this world and neither can I. Just keep your hands clean. You’ll never get rid of the shakes that come in the night when you think of all the faces that you’ve wiped away.” Marius whipped himself away from Ilene. He put his hands to the wall, dropping the apple. His face was hidden from her for shame. Ilene exerted out the next question, slowly with care. “What… what are you doing when… if… we return? Marius raised a hand, his answer on an invisible platter. “This. This job is all that there is for me. Going to place after place that the powers that be say that I need to provide the grunt work for: trade, naval support, royal transports, all while never knowing who I’ll meet or who I might kill.” Ilene walked up to comfort him in the same way that Marlene, and even the rest of the crew, comforted her. She stopped before putting her hand on his strained shoulder. She felt that it was too much sorrow for someone in her state to bear. She tried to talk the poor man up though. “You don’t have to do this for the rest of your life if you don’t enjoy it.” He peeked from the side and bitterly snorted. “Welcome to the world, your grace. There isn’t much room for a lay-man to move up.” Ilene zoomed her eyes into his until they were locked. “Perhaps you can marry up.” He stammered. “Ilene… I… I can’t.” “We can try. There are many young bachelorettes in Pangea’s aristocracy. I know some of them. Perhaps I can get my parents to convince their parents and you and Osiris don’t have to trek the terrible seas anymore.” “Perhaps. That is very generous of you.” “Marlene always said that the best revenge was living well.” The well-said statement was followed by a rumbling in the air outside ship. A well-aimed shot was fired. “Down!” Ilene felt a great weight claw upon her and wrestle her to the floor as the rumbling reached an exploding fruition as the wood splintered like crackling thunder. A ball zoomed through each end of the galley’s wall, just above the floor-bound couple’s heads. They could see it was morning outside the newly windowed walls. The ship’s had their sails up, in-bound for the Pangeans. The orb hovered over them as a giant spectator. “They must have figured out what we were planning when they saw the orb come in. They’re primed to kill us!” Ilene returned to her cabin. She saw the gift from Lida on the bed. Ilene flung it upon the floor. She fell upon Marlene’s bed- the last vestige of her friend. Her nose and skin only trembled a bit as she realized that she was sleeping in her bloodily scabbed dress. It was Marlene’s last vestige upon Ilene after all. Thankfully, Ilene drifted asleep before Ilene could horrifically imagine what that might have been done to Marlene’s body.
Ilene dreamed of nothing. She never dreamed much in bed. Her dreaming was usually done while awake. Since life became a nightmare, this was her best solace. But the nightmarish life pulled her back when she heard a clatter on the floor. Kicked upright and blasting her eyes wide-open, she expected cannon fire and further brim stones of doom set in motion to bring utter calamity. She saw Marius at her door instead. “Shouldn’t you be with everyone else?” Marius shrugged and swung his eyes to the floor. “It’s like Atlas said: we have plenty of people on cannons. We just got to be ready to jump back in. Besides, Uncle Osiris refused to rest. He’s still harping on keeping me safe. So the old sea dog sentenced me to rest it out in his stead. But I can’t sleep. Too much tension. I need someone to talk to. And Crock is not too great at pep talks so I decided on you. How are you holding up? I heard about-” Ilene put her legs over her bed and pulled a pillow into her bosom. “I could sleep, thanks for asking. In fact, I could sleep for the rest of my days.” Marius joined her on the bed just as before. “That may be sooner than you think.” Ilene struggled to not raise her voice as she said, “Please. Let’s stop talking about death.” Marius stretched his eyebrows out in confusion. “Hey. You started it.” Ilene looked out to the darkness rolling with the waves from the window. She looked to the serenity that the stark black portal promised in simply looking to it. It comforted her asleep many nights upon this ocean. “I didn’t mean death when I said I wanted to sleep forever.” Marius looked out that same window along with her. “What did you mean?” Ilene gripped the pillow tighter. “I’ve no desire to experience any of this. I don’t want life to end. I just want it to stop.” Marius interjected, “You want a break.” “Yes. A break from misery. Isn’t that what joy actually is in the end, Marius? The absence of misery? I can plainly see that now. Can you see it?” “Not a bad way to put it I suppose. Myself, all I know is that I’ve been riding waves with Uncle O on one odd ship after another for a lot of odd years. And do you know why we did it?” Ilene could only shake her head. “Father ran us into debt. Took some bad gambles. We had to pay it off somehow. So we took to work on the high seas. I was just a kid, expecting adventure with pirates and the like. All I got was back-breaking misery that turned me into the ape you see before you today. We never did pay off his debts. Those whom he owed took him first. Dead. Mother took herself soon after. So we stick to the ocean life. We know no other life. We got nothing to look forward to on shore. I guess what I’m saying is that we shouldn’t wish to switch out when we have to face death and misery. Otherwise, we might miss out on life and joy.” “But,” her grip on the pillow was weakened, “it is so hard right now. And I don’t see how things can get better any time soon. Marlene… she… she said she’d always be here for me, but now…” Fresh out of tears, she groaned sorely. Marius wrapped his arms about her shoulders. “Listen now. I’m no Alphite priest when it comes to pep talks either. And I’m not going to promise to be by your side like Marlene did. Because, first: I’m not that kind of guy. Second: I may not be around to annoy her majesty much longer either. People die. You see it almost all the time on the ships. Just, I don’t know, do this thing my uncle once told me back when he was strong enough for sea life (before he got frail and one-armed). He said: ‘When it gets tough. I want you to get tougher.”’ Marius almost sounded like Osiris. “Nice impression,” said Ilene while finding reason to smile just a bit more. “Eating, working, and sleeping with the old bird starts to tell on one. But do you get the advice? I know it sounds a bit like, ‘suck it up.’ But-” Ilene intervened. “No. I get it. It’s sort of like, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,’ right?” Marius nodded. “Once we understand how alone we can be, it comes naturally to dig deep for strength and all that.” A pause blew into the room. Ilene divulged herself of the covers and pillow. “Are you hungry?” “Yes. But before we eat, let me change. I don’t want to think of the smell while I eat.” Ilene changed into a bright sun-dress with orange fringes. It made her hesitate to pick such bright colors given the circumstances. Then she looked to her favorite blue dress ruined beyond reason. It became darkened black from blood dried and mingled upon it. It was a shadow of the cold pit that Ilene feared joining Marlene in. Surely, this was her mourning dress throughout the course of these unendurable events. The sweat and trauma that came with the darkened dress clung to her as she took it off and changed into the yellow dress. It took some fighting with tying it around her waist. She no longer had any one to help her. The thought of it was too horrible to repeat. It stabbed at her again. She no longer had any one to help her. She tried to ignore it as managed to get the dress on. Although it became wrinkled through the girl’s wrestling with it, the dress also appeared lop-sided upon her form. Ilene almost walked out of the cabin when she noticed herself in the mirror. Her hair had been blackened dry by the blood too. Each lock was no longer beautifully patterned. The strands were shriveled by the past brutalizing hours. No kind hands nor jibbing remarks stood behind her. She no longer had any one to help her. Beating back each retreating eye-drop with her hand, she got a cloth and a cup of water to clean it out. Then, she got a band to adjust her hair into a simple pony-tail. She no longer looked like someone who had gained a miserable set of memories, but someone who had lost a lot of joys. The beauty that her maid brought to each day by virtue of her loving care was one of those joys. Ilene felt the disturbingly true words of Lida pass through her mind. “Are you happy with following your maid’s ‘morals’? Or are you willing to cast them aside so that you’ll have something in this life worth living for?” Ilene took the book that was filled with the malice that might as well have shaped Lida’s radical ways. Ilene threw the book at the mirror with all her hate behind it. The mirror cracked, dividing the image of Ilene into innumerable pieces. A knock. “Are you okay, Ilene?” Ilene composed normal breathing out of her panting panic. “I’m fine, Marius. Be right out.” As Ilene saw the mirror sprinkled over the book, she could only think of how both women, Lida and even Marlene, had cursed the princess of Pangea in their own special way. How could Empress Lida make things worse for Ilene? The answer unfolded upon a balcony atop an old, unused observatory of Eurasia's royal palace. Though it is dwarfed by the old giant-prisons it still hangs over the populace as no one goes to the prison unless in need of punishment. Most of those giant prisons that could look down upon the palace like gods are already rotting away. Upon the balcony stood a woman in a white night dress, stepping out to take in the gentle air. A companion followed behind her. She looked down to her people. “It is an ugly thing that I have done,” sighed the empress supreme as she looked down upon the candle-lit funeral procession taking place in the city square. The Eurasian capital of Patricho was in sore lamentation for the loss of Emperor Hailus and Prince Jacques. Their new rightful ruler, the first ruling empress in Eurasian history, spoke on. “I don’t think I could have killed them with my bare hands. I’m glad I hired the soldiers to do it. I’m surprised at how quick they were in doing so. I hated to see them go. They were good men deep down. But I hate to see this country go most of all. Family is family. But home is deeper than any blood-root. Wouldn’t you agree, Monote?” The veiled step-son did not even look at the sad parade below as he leaned to the wall. “I suppose I can’t complain. I was the only one of the family that you spared after all.” Lida spread her arms over the railing. “And why not?” She snickered through her teeth. “You’re not really part of the family after all.” Monote didn’t flinch as he said, “I suppose that is the one time that this is a good thing.” Lida smiled as she stared further into the weeping crowds. A little girl appeared to be tearing up in her mother’s arms as the young prince’s casket was being pulled by a horse-driven cart. Such sweet piety for her leaders. Lida’s smiled widened. “Did you ever wonder about the other reason that being officially left outside of the family was a good thing?” “You’re talking about my allowance to live in the palace in exchange for my dignity as well as the exiling from political affairs.” Lida kept her hands strapped to the rails as she etched her head slightly unto her step-son. “Very perceptive. That is what I’ve always… respected about you, Monote. You’re the lowest amongst the royals. People have assumed that you’re a stupid bastard due to the circumstances of your birth. That, and the fact you're usually so mute of speech, has made most assume you are like one of the lowly gentry to be mocked among our numbers. But I’ve always known the truth. It is always the most intelligent who are able to keep their wisdom a secret. “ Monote removed himself from the wall. “You know a lot about that, I see. You seized power through an arranged assassination and managed to convince the masses that it was the Pangeans that did it.” Lida washed herself in night air, breathing it smoothly in. “You haven’t answered as to why you were allowed to live among us instead of being thrown out in the street when you were a child. By all rights, it was where you belonged. You never belonged with us. So why keep you?” Monote crossed his arms. “I always assumed that it was because father needed a scapegoat penned up to publicly distract from out land’s eons of poverty and over-population.” Lida shook her head and grinned. “You’re only half right, boy. I put the idea into the emperor’s head. After his divorce from your mother, I married him almost immediately. But then word of your birth seeped into his ear, the country was massively divided on the issue. Should the benevolent emperor leave his child behind? Or should his palace’s dignity be corrupted by the presence of a bastard among them?” Monote’s veil covered his face’s response. She went on. “Hailus wished to merely leave you in an orphanage off the corner of a ghetto’s gutter and forget about you. But I saved you by suggesting that you be our subjugated ward.” Monote indignantly asked, “So you are the reason that I’ve lived my life in utter shame and loathing?” Lida added, “I’m also the reason that you’ve lived in security. Would you really call that an ugly thing that I’ve done?” Monote stepped closer to her. Lida continued, gesturing to the sea of mourning candles flickering below. “It is similar to what I have done to our country, our government, our family. We were going nowhere under Hailus and Jacques. We had to progress.” Monote blurted out a dark chuckle. “So you put those scapegoats to slaughter?” “Oh, no. Now I’ve a new scapegoat: The princess.” Chuckling again, he mocked her original motives. “Aw. Are you upset that the girl didn’t want to rule beside you? Perhaps this kindred spirit you seek in her is not so kindred after all.” “It is my wish to allow all the lowly to rule. You, me, and even her. Can you honestly say that you didn’t wish to rule in your father’s stead during all those years of abuse? What kind of ruler would you have become? Do you not still yet grow weary of hiding behind that veil in shame?” Monote joined her in looking over the rail. “First law that I’d make is to have everyone wear veils like this.” “Why? To share your shame?” “No. I’ve just grown accustomed to the privacy that this curtain about my face brings. I’d like to share such a power too, like you. But tell me more of what you’d like to do with the princess.” Lida looked downward as if the plan was all laid out before her. “It will not be easy. But I think that I can work her rebellion to our advantage.” Monote interrupted. “Our advantage? Lida explained, “I let you live. Twice. I want you by my side if Ilene won’t take it.” “Would I still have been by your side had she agreed to your generous offer?” “I still let you live. Besides, I have two sides after all: my left and right. Now you can have both.” “Lucky me.” She continued. “So you do know that we can’t let the girl live?” “Indeed. If she returns to Pangea it will be war. I hear that some of our best ships are seeing to that.” Lida added, “But, what then? It will still get out that we’ve killed her.” Monote quipped, “All that talk of taking the world on and you’re afraid of war?” Lida corrected, “I fear nothing. War and desolation will come to the swine of Pangea by my word, just not yet. I must take time to have my informants spread word to have others join us in our conquest. It will mostly be mercenaries abroad.” “And how can we afford that? We have little trade and alliance with other nations. The orbs barely come about our lands.” “As I said, change is coming from my rule. It all comes back to Ilene. First, I’ll convince the Pangeans that I’ve kidnapped her for a ransom.” “Sounds like you want early war after all.” “No. Don’t you see through that veil? Pangea will not attack us if we have their daughter.” “But what if they pay the ransom? We’re talking about the wealthiest nation in the world.” “Exactly. If we continue to refuse the ‘return’ of Ilene, we can keep upping the ransom. It could go on for centuries, really.” “Surely this cannot go on for that long. They may snap and attack anyway.” “I will not be idle in that time. I will use the wealth that they give us to strengthen our forces at home.” “And abroad? You mentioned some recruitment strategy therein too?” “Again, Ilene will be our help in that.” “You seem ready enlist her aid whether she wants to be of use or not.” “I will certainly make her unwilling. She will be a puppet. ‘The vessel of Her.” Monote’s veil nearly flew open in his gasping. “You don’t meant the omen?” “Yes, Monote. The omen of the ill-end. So it is inscribed in The Holy Volume: And she shall come as an exiled killer. She’ll gain the hearts of all men via her comely ways. But harken! For she shall wish to only deceive so as to gain the souls of this world. Her heart may follow human virtues, and she may yet believe it herself. But the great traitor dwells within her. The goddess dwells within her. She shall rise again through and by her.” Monote carried on the verse with Lida. “But fear not the vessel of disaster. Abase her. Keep her far from society. For if not, she shall divide all companies about her until the world itself is divided to its ruin, and her delight. Some weak hearts will take her in and allow her the power needed. Verily, the hearts helping her shall join her in the arctic hole forever when the faithful woman shall arrive in the name of Alpha with an army of few against the rest of the world whom the goddess hath begotten. The happy forever will come to all who join the faithful woman’s side.” Finished with the inscriptions that every educated Eurasian citizen is indoctrinated with from birth, Monote smiled from below his veil. “So, Lida, you believe that Ilene is the possessed vessel for the spirit of the goddess that betrayed the god eons ago?” “All that matters is that it is what they believe,” stretching her hand over the masses. “And that goes for the rest of the world.” “It will be easy given that she is daughter to the most successful kingdom of the age. How the envious rulers below them will rush to our side to appease the superstitious and fearful multitudes.” Monote bowed graciously. “Very well, my Empress. I shall stand at your side. I wish to rise upon the shoulders of the crowds that once scorned my existence in the streets. Tell me how I may spread the news of the goddess's rise.” “Come closer and hear.” Four ships were speeding after the Pangean vessel.
“Damn their souls,” bellowed Crock. “With a full crew, we could have easily out-paced those ships.” He tried to say something else more quietly- to himself. “I don’t know if we could out-fight them, even with a full ship.” Sensing that he was heard, he snapped, “Stop looking at me, buggards! Atlas, stay on those sails. Ilene, join the others on the deterrents!” As the group plunged into the stairs of the lower deck, Ilene’s eyes were pulled back in disturbance as she heard the captain laugh with mock bravado overhead as he darkly said aloud, “Those bastards want to take us to the freezing bowels of hell, we’re pulling them down with us.” Ilene never went to the lower-deck before. It smelled like a dog that a younger Ilene once had when it went out into the rain. The dog later died from a cold. It was a horrible odor that smelled like the free-flowing air of water mixing with the most deadly and disgusting diseases with the bowels of the earth. In the lower deck was found a long room, framed by moldy boards and small trays of windows open up like attic doors. Beaming out of these windows were cannons. Osiris raised his non-slung arm. “These are the ‘deterrents.’” The room was centered by a long table that ran its length half way across the floor. This room would have been dead dark if not for the glass lamps that were lit about the table. Connor, the tall mate with a uni-brow and goatee, mumbled, “If we still had our crew, we could let off these cannons in unison, ensuring a ship's destruction. Instead, I got a girly and a cripple to work with. At least the cripple knows how to operate them.” He wasn’t being as quiet as he thought he was. Osiris slammed Connor into one the cannons with his good arm and held him down upon it with its weight. “Talk dirty about people in your own time, boy. Just show her. And if I hear any more lip from you, I’ll attach you to one of these cannons and fire.” Connor rubbed something within his jacket and grunted an affirmative. Connor rushed Ilene through the basics. “Okay, princess,” he sneered, “I think the best job for you is to hand the cannon balls to me. I’ll set up the mechanism as I’m most qualified. And, Osiris, all you have to do is use that one heavy arm of yours to pull the rope that lets it all off. The hard part is that we’ve got to time it to when we’re in range. That captain will signal us when to fire with a bell he’s got next to him on deck. We’ve got to be ready to fire when it rings.” *Ding* “Damn! Ilene! Hand me the ball!” He scrambled impatiently to his spot by the cannon and danced his hands out like a wild man over the apparatus. Ilene fretted her hands about. “But…” “NOW!” The bell kept ringing. “But I don’t know where they are! You didn’t tell-” “Oh, for god’s sake,” Connor snarled with frustration, “I’ll get it then.” He reached below the table and pulled one from the chest. He then set it up in the nearest cannon and Osiris fired it. It spurted a brief spark and smoke as it kicked back slightly on its heels, flinging the orb off. A distant splash was heard as Connor yelled, “We missed! You were off the mark, princess. This is why I divide the jobs up- so we could do this faster.” Eyeing Osiris on the side to gauge the properness of his speech to her, he continued on with a heavy sigh. “Just please be a little faster next time.” Before Ilene could respond, a cannon ball from the other ship thundered and split through the side as it knocked Connor into a blur. Ilene seemed to scream forever in that brief instant. The worst part of Connor’s injury was that he lived through it. He bore the orb’s weight and it rolled to his side after he crashed into the opposite side of the ship. This side was bruised and most of its wood was disfigured. But, it did not break away. Connor’s body was an even more horrible sight. His rib cage’s bones were poking out his stomach. Profuse bleeding poured from this area. His head sprayed blood as well. His eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth cried red. His arms and legs were strangled worms barley able to move. Every word he said was agony. “No… No… No!” Osiris did a poor, but earnest, job of trying to calm him. He hesitated in putting his arm upon the mangled form lying atop the volatile spot on the ship. “It’s okay, Connor. We’ll…” Like a braying child, Connor kept crying, “no.” The water-fall of red stared hatefully at the helping hand. Connor kept crying, “no" at higher pitches until his voice seemed to be shrinking to nothing. Ilene hid herself in the corner, hardly able to look upon the broken apparition that used to be a man. Her tears became so thick that she laid her hands over her face and they made her feel as though the substance glued her palms to it. The bell rang again. No one did anything. It rang again. Blubbering the word “no” like a lost infant, he inaudibly whimpered for his mother with an apology. Hearing another cannon go off, Ilene flung her hands from her eyes to see the four ships lined in the distance from the windows. They were set up in the pattern of a firing squad before its intended victim. She expected the end to come and curled herself up tightly. She heard a splash instead of feeling a horrible impact. At least it was a miss. Yet it still shook the ship. A wooden crackling dropped into Ilene’s ears as she turned to see the broken side of the ship passing away like grains of sand. Then Connor wailed on as he flew into the sea with the rest of the ruined debris. Osiris fell too. He was too close to the edge of the damage. He was caught up in it. Ilene found herself propelled to the other side while reaching out for Osiris’s hand from the jagged edge. It was only when she felt the full weight of Osiris jam her arm out of place that she was shocked out of the rush of her sudden actions. Hanging on with both arms, and all her strength upon his good arm, Ilene felt herself sliding closer to the end. The back of her feet tried to grapple on to a table’s leg by the weight of her ankles. Her ankles burned almost as badly as her arms. Her teeth felt as though they were being stabbed through her skull. Ilene could not gauge Osiris’s reaction as his bearded head hung low to the fate below him. Ilene whispered, “Osiris, help me.” It felt strange to say, but she did need his help. Not his dead weight. “Pull,” she said more loudly. “Come on! Osiris’s eyes looked up, revealing the despair lowering his wrinkles lower than ever. “What’s the point? I’ll be dead like Connor. At least I won’t suffer this way. At least, not as much. Besides, my other arm’s broken. I couldn’t get myself up if I wanted to.” Ilene knew the answer to his dilemma before he finished his speech. “Swing your legs. Use them to grab the busted sides of the ship.” Osiris did not answer. His head was hanging down again. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you? Whether you should let go? I know why you haven’t done it yet. It’s not because you’re afraid. It’s because you still want to protect Marius.” She didn’t have to say any more. His head sprang back up. Even the furrows of his face seemed to wash away. Osiris’s legs swung heftily, gaining momentum, until he finally locked his heels into the splintered edge. Ilene finally hoisted him up. They lay on their backs, panting for life. The bell rang again. Ilene finished panting. “You’re going to have to show me how to load that thing.” So he did. They spent the rest of the night fighting off the cannons. Meanwhile, Crock and the rest for the crew managed to get them out of the harbor. They were now in the open sea. The enemy still pursued after them, well into the morning and afternoon. Ilene and Osiris grew pale from their sweat, their eyes were fire-red, and their muscles were numb pistons thanks to this ordeal of loading and firing non-stop with no break for over twelve hours. The only times that they felt awake was when the cannons slammed into their ship, to which they got down in time to survive. While the single successful hit that they managed in all this time enlivened them as they hugged and jumped like gleeful school children while watched it sink. Three ships were left in their sight as their poor eyes descended further into weariness. After a while, the firing between both sides stopped. The enemy stopped firing. Yet the bell stopped ringing as well. It was as if a peace treaty was signed that they were not told about. They almost hoped for more cannon fire. It was the only thing that kept them awake over the long hours. Livened again, the two heard the upper doors crank open. They thought it was cannon fire. They hoped it was more cannon fire. They did not want to be nodded into sleep during this ceasefire only to have it end abruptly while thus ending their lives. But it was not cannon fire to the sad disappointment found in the pulsating red veins of their eyes. It was Mr. Hound. His usually crest-fallen eyes bulged out with concern. “Up on the deck with you lot. The captain has a get-out-of-purgatory free card waiting.” On the deck, Crock peeled his hands from the crispy wheel. Every one gathered around in a sloppy circle. “Here’s what we’re dealing with,” he grumbled on his way down the stairs to stand level with his endangered crew on the main deck. “We’re dead. All of us. I’ve never lied in my life. They didn't stop shooting at us because they got tired of chasing us. So don’t be singing no praises to the divine yet. They stopped chasing us because they’ve cornered us.” Once on deck, he pointed north off the side of the bobbing ship on the windless day. “That way may not look like nothing but another pretty ocean horizon, but beyond it lies the mountain continent of Omega's arm. You may recall from our having to reach this country by a narrow passage within it, the island circumvents a large distance far greater than we can sail around.” “To your south,” he continued directing his hand shakily to the direction of the lined ships in the expanse. “Is the enemy. And a clever enemy he is. They got a prepared pattern from south, south-east, and south-west. Which-ever of those directions we go, you can bet your savings at home that they are ready and willing to kick start an empty-casket funeral for our family’s to weep over. We can’t proceed north without eventually being driven into the rocks of the bludgeoned isle. These Eurasian bastards must use this stratagem often on fugitives. Also… Osiris?” Passing a red-eyed look to the captain, he listened to his leader’s inquiry with intensity. “How is the status on our ammo?” Osiris gave a monotone reply. “Nearly out, sir. And we lost Connor by the way. Side of the ship is ruined too.” The captain sniffled and wiped his loosely curled hair. “Yes. Just as I calculated. We’re nearly out. We’re cornered. Nowhere to go. As said, we’re dead.” Marius grimly chirped in. “And in further uplifting news, everyone: I’ve contracted an incurable illness.” Hound roused out liked a growling beast. “Let the captain talk. He has a plan. Told me about it himself.” Marius couldn’t avoid his joker’s instinct to confront high stakes with mirth. “Ooh. Aren’t we special?” Crock nodded between the electric signals of hatred between the two mates. Once his eyes reeled in their attention, he looked up. All the other heads of the crew followed his gaze. “Sky’s beautiful for such a dismal occasion, wouldn’t you say? As equal parts a naval man and trader, I know the seas. That is how I realized the misfortune of our current route. But we were too far into our getaway to steer back to the passage. Yet I also know the orbiting patterns of the isles above, in the greater sea that we call the air. I even know the routes of the less profitable isles, without populations. I know this because I was thinking of retiring from the naval life and setting my own post upon one with my family.” A heavy pause. The captain still stared up. Ilene touched her hair. The blood was still there. But it was sticky to the touch. She didn’t want to examine its state at this moment. The captain went on. He looked down to his crew again. “These ‘forestoria’ isles are home to all kinds of wildlife and fauna. Tomorrow, one will be circling above our little stand-off. It will come in from the south. Right above our enemy. If we’re as lucky as I want us to be, we can fire at the orb and the loosened stones could potentially weaken their ships or even end their lives. Maybe if we’re even luckier than that,” another punching pause as he sat wearily upon Ilene’s throne still on the deck, “we could collapse the whole isle. Total assurance of wiping them out.” Osiris’s shoulder instinctively collapsed on to Marius’s. “But that could kill us too. “ Hound replied, “Or give us a fine wave to ride out of this mess. Besides, the captain said that this assured their death. Don’t you want out of this mess that our dear grace got us into?” Ilene struck her aching voice out. “Uncalled for!” It was what mother always said to her rude daughter making childish prattle at dinner. It sounded ridiculous in the company of seedy naval men. She kept at her yelling anyway. “I had nothing to do with this and… everything to lose. I-” Crock verbally broke it up. “Enough. We’re waiting for the orb in the morning. Everyone wait at your posts in case of a sudden attack. For now, they’re just waiting us out. But to their surprise, it is the opposite. Either way, someone is dying tomorrow. It better not be us.” Atlas stepped to the captain and drew him aside. “Sir, may I offer a request? Perhaps the crew on the cannons can get some rest? Mr. Hound and I can operate them in their absence.” The captain argued, “Then we’ll have no one on the sails. How will we escape if this all goes south?” Atlas reasoned, “We have nowhere to go, yes? Especially south.” Atlas spoke with soft tone that soothed despite his great frame. The captain eyed the big man, then he eyed Ilene. “Very well. Osiris. You two get some rest. But I want you ready to get up in case the boys need help on the cannons. I’ll keep a vigil up here for the rest of the night. Dismissed until then.” The group dispersed. Osiris patted Atlas upon the shoulder, and thanked him. Ilene towered on her toe’s tips and hugged him. “Thank you, Atlas.” The giant smiled and smoothed her hair out. “My lady, if you’ll forgive me for being too personal: I wish to let you know that I admire your courage in these hard timed. I had a daughter, Bethany, who died from a sickness. She was young. I like to think she would have grown into a strong woman such as yourself. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.” Ilene had no words. She could only hug him again as she left some trickling tears on his chest. Ilene tried to pretend she was hugging Marlene again. But it somehow made her feel worse. She felt worse because the tears stopped. They were swallowed back into her eyes. Her face grew numb and her heart felt empty. For she knew growing close to anyone would result in losing them as she lost Marlene. Atlas left her as he jogged to the confines of the cannon’s room below. It was a practical change that swept over her. Her body knew that this excess of tears for the fallen was affecting her mind’s ability to handle a survivor’s struggle. So she let go of it all. She breathed it out until nothing was left as she soon found that she was the only one left on the main deck. She looked out to the sea and saw the ships that were after her royal blood. Ilene grew up with a concept of hate on a superficial level. She hated her bed time. She hated chores. And she hated Marlene always correcting her. But those were only vague discomforts she used the word for. As she saw those ships, she felt actual hate for the first time. It kindled in her like a forest slowly burning down. Stretching her hot malice from the reddened whites of her eyes, she eradicated each ship into utter desolation with each eye, blinking them into the black abyss before doing the same thing to the next. She repeated this vehement exercise on the deck well into the night. She leaned against the rail with her staring resentment. It almost made her smile to think of the pain such a travesty of bodies on board that this would cause to their loved ones. It would be a legion’s mourning in Eurasia. Yes. It almost made her smile to dream of such a potential vengeance. Almost. She realized the time she lost when her stern stare was broken by a sneeze. It whizzed from her mouth and shook her from the confines of her mind. Before she could catch her breath, she sneezed again. It continued on until she seemed like a mentally convulsing lunatic making animal sounds. When her sneezing ended, she felt the ooze drifting down her chin past her dried lips like a fountain. A handkerchief was pressed to her hand. It was the captain. “I came down to investigate the odd noise. Luckily I both reloaded my gun and brought a handkerchief too.” Ilene swiped it and smudged away the snort only to have it fly down again to be met by the same scratching process. “Never learned how to blow your nose?” Memories of such lectures that came from Marlene during childhood well into her teenage years were bludgeoned upon her chest. Inwardly cursing the sudden return to feeling sorrow again, Ilene responded, “Some people can’t whistle, captain. I’m simply no good at blowing my nose.” The captain agreed to this as he joined his elbows on the rails. “Fair enough. This sea-air can get to you. I’m surprised you’re just now catching an ailment. Let alone your maid who hit the water. I don’t think she-” The captain halted Marlene’s mention upon seeing Ilene’s descending brow. The captain tried to correct it. “She- she was a good woman. I’m sorry she-” The brow fell lower. No words. The captain gave up. “Forget it. I’m no good at the pep talk. Just get in your cabin and rest before that cold gets worse.” Walking back to her cabin, Ilene squeezed within herself to reinstitute the numb feeling again. The empty scape of nothing within felt superior to the soul-crushing longing for the suffering to go away. Despite the lack of skill with compassion, the captain did let her keep the handkerchief (a most hygienic decision) without placing any heavy obligation on Ilene for it. This was the opposite of her parents. They ruled all the world, including their daughter, their most obedient subject. They’ll live in the safety and comfort of a long reign while those others that have acted more fatherly and motherly to her will pass away by their commoner’s fate: sudden death. She’ll be home soon, if she doesn’t die. Both fates seem to make her feel as though she were approaching the bottom of a low well that she’ll never escape. She won’t have the story-telling friend to lean on at home. And death? Ilene fears she won’t find her friend in its darkness. Deep darkness spread out at once. The grand building was seized with cries of panic where once resounded music and laughter. The only light that could be found came from the open ceiling. It was a pillar of light. The stars sprayed a ray in all of the darkness.
Empress Lida stepped into this open ray. She held out her hands. “Do not be alarmed, everyone. The torches were put out for a special purpose. I was delighted to schedule the night before the wedding upon this very night. For I’ve learned upon my readings of astrology that tonight is that of celestial wonder beyond any sordid sight found in our earth. Tonight, we may see the face of the God!” The panic died. Silent curiosity laid it to rest. “For you see,” continued the orator, “just as God brought light to utter darkness, so too, does he appear every thirty years. He dips his head down through the veil that separates our world and his world. Then, his features press through that veil, through our stars above. It is his imprint piercing out to communicate to his chosen people’s rulers every thirty years. Since nations collide tonight, I’d ask each of our Pangean visitors to gather about me to see this holy visage of the most high.” Cautiously, piously, all Pangeans gathered as they strolled to Lida’s position to look above. Ilene and Marlene joined them. Marlene could only gasp in awe. “The face of God…” she whispered to herself in wonder. Ilene tried to make out a face from the formation of the stars. Ilene could only see a smile, a wide arc upon the world below. Or was it a frown? Mere words twisted this company’s state of awe. “Cease this blasphemy, wife,” commanded the emperor. “No outsiders may take part in this ritual of seeing the God’s face. Only his appointed ruling family has this right. What madness are you driving at?” Lida raised her hand over the ray of light, a signal. She hatefully replied, “I’m driving at allowing you to see the God’s face in person, Hailus.” Without warning, a fine burst of blood shot off from every direction, drenching those in the center of the floor. The Eurasian soldier’s uniforms and drawn swords were now freshly shining with red as they tossed the still wringing corpses over the tables. Their service of slitting the throats of the Eurasian rulers, politicians, and royalty was done. Laid upon on the floor, their blood kept streaming out their mauled necks. The oozing pool of liquid creeped closer to the Pangeans. The men of the crowd drew back as they drew their un-used broad swords and pistols as some others shrieked in horror. Their feet drew away from the approaching blood as if the touch could poison them from the feet up. Starting with the captain, swords were raised to the neck of Lida, who stood calmly, smiling sweetly even. “Hear me.” The smell overpowered Ilene. She crumbled to her knees. The blood was wrapped over her dress and face. She got the brunt of Jacques’s spurt as he was chopped down like a tree before her un-closing eyes. When she reached the ground in a tug-of war between her mouth and her stomach to keep the food from vomiting out, she came eye-to-eye with the dead boy. His eyes were endless. He looked like one who had truly seen the face of God. The men were silent with fright, but poised for attack with rage. They held off to hear her. She spoke with all the authority that was now, by blood, hers. “For thousands of years, this house has stood on an old, forgotten rock that claimed relation to the beginning of time-to God.” She looked up, her face seeming to challenge the deity to come down and face her. “It was all lies to keep this pauper race in a sense of security. It goes to the ‘privileged’ to stabilize the vanity of this reign and its people that followed blindly after it. I saw all manner of foolishness and oppressions instituted by the so-called ‘servant of god’ that you see rotting on the floor over there. I knew what it felt like to lose control to one who only fabricated his authority. So I believed that I could fabricate my own. Paying off the army with my own secret funds, I have seized Eurasia as my own. I am the empress supreme of all the land, though it is a poor land of paupers and savages. As the new ruler, I am bringing about change. I am humble enough to accept foreign help. I need money. My people need a proper culture. Even Hailus saw this. We needed an alliance with Pangea: the economically, commercially, and intellectually greatest of all the nations." “So, Ilene,” started the empress pulling herself toward the young girl, past the guns and swords tensely held inches from her like they were toys. All eyes latched on to Ilene. Ilene clung to Marlene in growing fear shuttering between the two of them as if the blood drenched over them were ice. "I offer you that same wonderful alliance without the obligation to marry one that you do not desire. If you join me, I’ll help you pry the Pangean empire from the fingers of your parents. With your nation’s wealth and navy and my nation’s numbers and strength, we could take the other nations and rule this world like the god and goddess before us. Only, it will be a world in the charge of the goddess's blood rather than that of the god’s, rather than that of man’s.” The empress quaked in a passion as if a priest possessed by the spirit, tearing her body about. “Women will no longer will be held in willing subjugation. Look above! All of you! You do not see the god’s face do you?” Everyone followed each other to gaze high into the ceiling’s open night sky. Only the captain didn’t look up. His eyes scanned high, but his head was still aiming his pistol at Lida. “The god’s face isn’t up there because he knows that a new era has awoken and he fears to look upon it. Take this chance with me, Ilene. The only way for you to have the freedom you desire is to take control. Take this escape for the ages by conquering the prison of a world that you live in.” When such a decision is presented to someone a choice must be made. As Ilene stood there, blood covered over her pretty blue dress, her eyes were ready to melt out of her skull from utter unbelief in the scene before her. All she could do was cry. What else can anyone do in the moment between such a decision? Not many are made of stone. When unhardened persons such as Ilene break, the scatter like sand, but at least stone does not have to go through the process of putting itself back together. So Ilene put herself back together between sobs echoing in this hall of soldiers, crewmen, dead bodies, and women that could rule the world. All present waited for her reply. Even the dead. Marlene, alone, gave her strength. She hugged her during this entire episode. No words of whether to take this offer were given. None had to be said. Seeing the motherly love coming from the woman made the choice easy. “I can’t, Lida. I am not like you. Yes. I want,” a further sob coughing out stopped her. “I want to be free. But, not in this way. This way…” Jacques stared further as pus puked from the rest of his neck. “This way is not me. Let me be me. Let us return and never discuss this again. Please.” The empress pressed closer to the frightened girl, whose tears pleadingly burst forth with each word. The empress raised her stance over her. With the light of the star’s still showering behind Lida, her foreground looked dark, like the body of a horrible judge sent to execute wrath from above. “I only wanted to help you, all those like us: the women of this world subjugated by men. Andy you deny this wonderful gift?” Lida turned away, her cape flourishing as a heavy curtain. “This wasn’t supposed happen. You weren’t supposed to say no.” With less of a challenge gleaming in her eye, she angrily looked up the sky and yelled, “This ruins everything!” A soft, but firm voice sprang out. “Leave her alone.” The cape swung back. “What did you say, wench?” “I said leave the girl be,” challenged Marlene, “she’s not doing what you want because I raised her with a sense of morals. Which is more than I can say for you, you…” Her words wavered. “You child killing bitch!" "You talk of morals, woman. You do know that those are men’s morals, yes? Otherwise, she wouldn’t be refusing this obvious key to her freedom.” “Morals are for everyone to live by. You simply chose to ignore them for you own benefit.” “I wish to free women like myself.” Marlene softly scoffed with what sounded like a soft hack. “The only woman you wish to free is yourself. You wish to enslave young girls, like Ilene, with your hateful ways, just as you want to enslave men with a more literal bondage.” Lida moved closer to Ilene, who had hid herself in the confines of the disheveled tuffs of her hair. “Do you believe what she says, Ilene? Are you happy with following your maid’s morals? Or are you willing to cast them aside so that you’ll have something in this life worth living for?” Ilene sniffed. The smell of the blood became set in her nostrils. It was salty and sharp. She raised her head. Ilene’s melting eyes and stiffened jaw said it all for Lida. She sternly said, “I’ve heard enough.” Lida’s right hand clubbed Marlene’s neck and swung the maid about with a tight choking hold from behind. Swinging around like a new dance, Lida ripped out the edge of the circle of Pangeans with her cape strangling about Marlene’s neck. Struggling to squeak out air, Marlene hopelessly gripped her hands upon the cape to remove it. The crew couldn’t shoot Lida for fear of killing Marlene. “If you won’t help me gain the world,” spat Lida, “I’ll make sure you lose everything.” Ilene continually pleaded with Lida. “Please. Please. Please.” She repeated this plea hoping it would prick Lida’s heart. The stone heart rolled on with its dark deed anyway. Closing into the confines of her crowd of soldiers, Lida pulled Marlene in with her. Once embraced within the crowd, they were no longer seen. A popping crack and squeak was heard. “Please… Please…” Marlene’s broken body was tossed over the table like the others were. The collapsing corpse knocked over the table as well as the book that was given as a gift to Ilene. Ilene pleaded on with shrieking volume rising higher. Why does the animal kingdom fear humans? For even in sorrow, our howls are more terrifying than that of any beast imagined. A voice blasted out. “All rifle-men, fire!” Many blasting voices rang out from the rifle’s barrels rocking out to trample the many soldiers into the dust. The rest of this swarm stumbled back in defense. Ilene stumbled forward, scrambling to get to Marlene’s body. Tears littered her every step. She got the book just before Captain Crock un-wrenched her away. She held it tightly in her arms. Crock’s booming voice pushed into her ear. “We have to go! She’s dead, dammit. If we stay, we’ll be gone too!” She kept pleading like a mumbling infant as she tried to tear from his grasp. Crock promptly punched her in the jaw. It shocked her out of her mania. She glued her eyes, hot with misery, to his chiseled eyes veering from his bearded face. Tears of pain replaced tears of sorrow as Ilene went limp in his arms. Fully complacent, Ilene let Crock coax her along. “You can forgive me later. Now let’s go!” The rest of the crew were already racing for the exit. Ilene and Crock tried to catch up. The Eurasian soldiers had trouble regrouping past their sudden dead. They pursued the Pangeans. Some other soldiers sprinkled their powders into their muskets. They fired. One crewman fell. The shock of this blast mowing down a man who she just managed to out-pace made her falter in her run. Crock pushed her on. “If you stop, even for a second, I’ll knock you out and carry you if I have to.” As they reached the door to the entrance, Lida’s voice followed them. “No matter how far you run, Ilene, I’ll find a way to bring you to your knees. I declare fiery war on you, your nation, and your family. That old cow’s slaughter was only the beginning of your suffering. No one shall escape my reign. 'I am a black curtain to envelope the universe in saith the God, Alpha.' You’ll never-” The crew shut the door. Atlas said, “That’s one way to shut her up.” They ran through the dark streets of Patricho. The night’s empty streets almost seemed peaceful. The peace was shattered by the soldiers bursting from the palace. They made a great noise to get the attention of other soldiers. “Get back to the ship, through the wall’s gate again,” barked the captain. No noise was greater than one soldier coming to a nearby bell and ringing it as he yelled, “Enemy troops trying to escape! All bows on them!” It hailed arrows sporadically from the top of the great wall that the crew was bound for. Men in mid-flight were pinned to the spot. Ilene didn’t look back to witness their fate. She couldn’t. Each time she tried to turn her head Crock kept slapping it and pushing her on. It blistered her feet to run at this unnatural rate. But, she had to escape. As the men cobbled closer to the door, it began to slide closed, slowly. “Faster!” Ilene saw Atlas shoot off one his pistols. It hit a guard rushing to stab them that Ilene did not even see until he was wounded by the shot. Atlas tossed his back-fist into the damaged soldier, out of his way. Crock hoarsely said, “Don’t waste your only shot unless needed, men. They only allowed us one shot for the ceremony.” The thought of these single bullets that were to be used for a happy occasion rather than this soul impaling tableau slowed Ilene down. Seeing another man get shot sped her up again. Ilene knew him. It was the friend of Atlas. The one who wanted to report her for threatening him with a knife. She forgot his name. “Ferrio!” shouted Atlas. Crock was pushing Atlas along this time. This brought them to the great door. It was nearly closed. Ilene was practically thrown out by the captain. Everyone else was left to huff it before it was too late. She slammed past each end of the doors and slid her knees upon the rocks scattered on the beach outside. She got up just as the stinging sensation in her knees were felt. The doors were shut up with a hallow thud. Ilene was paralyzed with dread when she saw she was the only one that made it through. Paralysis turned to surprise when Atlas’s fingers dug through the crevice of the door and used his mast-sized arms to catapult an opening big enough for the rest of the crew to slip through. With each strained, moaning sliver of sweat and popping vein he managed it. The army was nearly upon him before he lunged out before the door could eat him up. The captain and the other men helped Atlas up. They ran to the docks. “We’re going to make it,” cheered Crock as they made their way to their ship at the end of the harbor. Somehow, the dark night grew darker. Ilene could not help but look up to see what the cause was. A great twang was heard, like a giant guitar string being tuned. Then she saw a dark cloud. It hurried along at an unearthly speed. It was faster than any cloud, or even any orbiting isle. It was like a vaporous spirit claiming rule over all the stars. Ilene then realized that this cloud was descending upon them. An arrow split the dock’s wooden floor. It landed in front of the crew’s race to the end of the dock. It was a synchronized firing of arrows from the soldiers stationed on the city’s wall. Going around it, Crock yelled, “Keep going! Don’t stop!” The ship seemed further than ever at the end of the harbor. Crock commanded those on board to prepare to set sail before arrival. “All hands on deck! Wake up, boys! We’re under attack! Let loose the anchor and prep the sails! We’re coming aboard!” The arrows rapidly increased in their downpour from the cloud. Ilene’s heart convulsed nearly out of her mouth every time she heard one hit the boards, or even the water on the edge. She feared that one would strike her down. This fear shook Ilene's heart and it wanted to weigh her down. It wasn’t a foolish fear. For probability dictated that one of the arrows would eventually hit at least one of their marks. The rain killed many of the other crewmen, who turned instantly into obstacles for Ilene to uncomfortably leap over with an unsaid apology in her heart. One hit Ilene too. Ilene’s poor slippers were not made to run in. They were only meant to look pretty, kind of like herself. So, her ankles arched out of them with each sprinting step. One of those arches opened space for an arrow to jut straight through the bottom of her shoe. This caused Ilene to trip violently down. Her face, already bruised from Crock’s punch pounded upon the hard wood. Ilene slipped her foot from the impaled shoe and hobbled on with the other one. Everyone made it on to the ship except for Ilene. The heaviest grouping of arrows clamored to her back. She was almost upon the stairs of the deck. She kicked off the other slipper to re-balance her running. The arrows were a second from their destination. If not for Osiris seeing the gathering behind her, and crying, “Jump,” her story would be at an end. Her body hurled itself further than before as it performed a leaping nose-dive upon the stair-case, just out of the arrows plummeting range. The wood that the bolts crackled apart upon landing just missed her feet by an inch. Beaten by the staircase, Ilene could barely crawl up. Luckily, the book still in her arms braced the fall for her. A strong arm bared her up. It was Marius. Upon the relative safety of the deck, Ilene crumbled into a ball shivering with trauma and fatigue. She had seen and suffered much. But she had to get up. Crock kicked at her head and harshly pulled her up by her hair. Ilene’s eyes remained trapped shut and her teeth gnashed down. “Don’t just lie there,” ordered Crock, “Most of my crew is dead. We need sails! Help Marius with them over there! GO!” Not knowing what to do, Ilene found her feet carry her aching body to Marius. She left the book lying on the deck, forgotten. Marius flinched upon seeing Ilene approach. “What is it?” Ilene blurted out, “The captain wants me to help.” Marius could not help but shake his head. “My god…” Resentful passion sobbed out loudly. “How many people did we lose?” Ilene could only think of Marlene and she became dragged down with a new burden as she wondered how it would feel to lose Marlene many times. So it was with Marius for he lost multiple friends. She could not help but say, “Too many…” Marius clenched his fist and used it to drive away his fears by punching the mast. It brittled his hand with blood wrapped in splinters. He iced out a harsh breath. “Well, let’s shut up and get to work. They’ll be coming in their own ships soon." For a second, Ilene really believed that operating the sails would be easy. She was speedily taught the controls to the pulley mechanism. Ilene hated being near them, for they were the same ones used to save Marlene yesterday. Ilene got through it, though she wetted the controls with her sorrow. But it didn’t end there. Marius explained that they had to hang on to the base of the ropes to keep them balanced for the sails to stay aloft properly. “Just don’t let go! No matter what!” Ilene knew this would be difficult when she felt the dense rope bite into the tendons of her fingers in retaliation to her gabbing them again. Ilene became sore with worry as she felt the tremors of the ship’s sails vibrate through her frail form. The ship was moving. The wind kicked the sails, and the sails kicked back upon Ilene and Marius below. Before, when saving Marlene, she had to only hang on so as to lift two people with the help of the entire crew. Now it was only her, Marius, and the other two men holding on to the ropes upon the ship’s other side. They all had an entire ship to help carry through. As the ship drifted further, one of the other members called to their partner. “Hold on, Mr. Hound. Do. No. Let. Go!” It was said to a pale-faced man with no hair and a long, dark beard. Ilene recognized him from the quartet. She recalled him for he was the only one who did not smile during the performance. His brow was sullen even at the moment of the ship's escape attempt. It looked like an old face ready to be peeled away. He had the look of constant, but calm, despair painted over him, as if he saw the fate coming to the ship during the song and had accepted it. It was a general despair he held over life, knowing that we are all dead by the end, no matter what. Still in the pain, Ilene lost focus on everything but holding on. She tried to imagine that they were going faster the harder she held on. Her eyes caught patches of the other crew members names being ordered about some tasks translated with sea-jargon that was indiscernible to Ilene. The names were: Osiris, Connor, and Atlas. All of them were names she had heard barked on the ship before, amongst others. But these names bore into her head as these were the last of the surviving crewmen. They rushed by, and went down to the lower deck. When they returned, the captain asked them if the ‘deterrents’ were ready. They affirmed this. Ilene didn’t focus on this, but only the focus of her job’s agony. She felt herself slipping. She couldn’t feel her fingers. Ilene felt hours within minutes. A fearful impatience raised her pulse with the same windy buoyancy as the rushing waves while she kept mentally wishing for the ship to finally get out of the harbor. She finally slipped. It was an accident. Her sweat and weariness wiped her straight off the rope. It was an accident. Yet it was a heavenly relief to her hands. With her slip, the ship tottered with sickening imbalance. “Someone help her!” The world tattooed on Atlas’s back jumped in front of Ilene. The strong man, despite his strain from opening the door, laid fast hold on the rope and the ship was instantly restored to balance. Ilene felt safe until the ship rocked again with greater vehemence. This time, it wasn’t because of the sails. The enemy had loaded their ‘deterrents’ on their ships. They fired. It upset the waves nearby. The enemy set sail after them. Just as the two stepped into the black, several torches were lit by the soldiers. The rest of the palace did not have any halls nor stairs, but a vast repetition of the columns found in the first part of the room. It was disorientating to see them all together at once, to be unsure of how many there were and which columns of the number were real or imagined when seen near so many others like a cabal of mirrors.
Marlene described them best, "I could see someone getting lost in here." The soldiers continually lit the spare torches hanging off of several of these pillars. Each soldier led an even number of Pangeans to their rooms. The rooms were found at the far walls near the end of each row. Navigating through the great gathering of these obelisks, Ilene spoke out. “What is the point of all these? Seems to be a lot of work just to get lost in.” To Ilene’s yelp, the solider leading her and Marlene turned to answer. She got so close to him by accident that she could see the white of his lifeless eyes peering from his jagged helmet. He explained these structures to the foreign girl with unhidden contempt in his voice. “The seemingly endless amount of columns and their designs, therein, are to represent the literal infinity awaiting all of us when we meet Lord Alpha at the end of this life. To feel overwhelmed is the point, as it is a shadow of the indescribable realm and presence of the God. Eurasia has many such reminders of the unseen world we live under. Many nations are trying to forget such a past ever existed.” They finally reached the door to their room. The soldier left them with a key and a bow. Marlene snuffed after his departure. “I know what he meant by that. He suggests that nations like Pangea have abandoned the old ways over the years. Just because we didn’t keep as many superstitious traditions does not mean that we’ve lost our morals. So what if we’ve abandoned such ornaments for enterprise and trade? That’s why our country thrives and theirs is crippling into dust as far as money goes.” Marlene stopped her words to wipe the hair of the tired girl. “But enough of my political gossip. Let’s rest before dinner.” The two got, assumedly, the finest room as it was ornamented with red cushions over-laying the bulk of the floor. The room also had a red curtain laid over the window. The non-cushioned portions of the floor were filled with tiles. By the door, was a table and some chairs for reading and dining upon. A cabinet was near it for the stocking of books and clothes. Another design pattern stretched about the wall. This one was yellow and had orange circles within orange octagons. “Where’s the bed?” Marlene answered, “I suppose we’re to use this pile of cushions. After the trip I’ve had, I could sleep on a rock.” Marlene plopped down to nestle in the corner of the cushions near the wall's edge. Marlene motioned toward Ilene. “Coming to sleep? You have a grave journey ahead of you, the great misadventure of marriage, that is.” Ilene denied her. “No. I’m not tired. Meeting my husband has just been... a lot for me to take in.” Marlene crawled closer from the red of the cushions. “Indeed. I would’ve never guessed that he’d be so young.” Ilene shook her head. “Neither did I. I would’ve never guessed that my parents cared so little about me, at least, to this degree.” Ilene’s eyes hung down like the ball and chains used to hold a prisoner down. “Is this all I was meant to do? Be married off? I mean, they might’ve made me marry a pet of the Ahabeus family if it meant securing an alliance with their military. Osiris was right.” Marlene bumbled her way to Ilene’s hand as the girl stared out of the window while opening the curtains. She reached her dear friend’s hand. “Now, I know it’s not a fair world we live in, but what else is there? What do you want exactly?” Ilene lashed her head at her servant. “I want to be free! A life! An adventure! Something that makes sense in the end!” Marlene returned, “You want your life to be more like one of your story books.” Ilene sounded a sigh that formed the word: “Yes.” Her eyes were attached to the outside of the window, past the city, past its walls, past the sea, and even past the horizon. “I want something with a proper resolution in the end. I don’t know, Marlene, I’ve never tasted it, the world, I mean. Maybe it’s not just freedom that I want, but the world, to be able to grasp it and make of it what I want, to make it a wonderful joy and experience from cradle to grave, not this endless string of obligations made to please others who can’t be pleased.” Marlene removed Ilene’s hand to make a point as she snapped back, “Nothing seems to please you either. You are a princess that grew up in a castle. Now you are to live in a palace with a prince. While it’s not exactly what you imagined, can’t you, at least, try to be content for a change?” Ilene rebuked her, making a raking sign with her arms in hatred as her well-patterned curls started to jut out from her upstart. “No! I refuse to accept this lot! I’m better than this! I know it! Those men sang of me conquering the world... what have I conquered? Nothing. Did not the book of the prophetess Ada in The Holy Volume once say: 'The poorest soul in spirt longs for the most?' Well that soul is me." Marlene noticed Ilene’s hair wringing out of pace and moved in to help with it. “Ada was referring to those in excess of want in case you didn't notice that when I first read the book of Ada to you. Please, calm down, dear. Let me fix this and we can move on and-“ Ilene ripped herself away and stamped her feet into the corner. “No! You’re just like my parents! You hold me down too! Only they don’t pretend to be my friend.” Marlene’s face stopped. It was frozen with dejection. This commenced a spellbinding pause. Marlene stoically said, “I’ve never been good at pretending.” Marlene’s voice rattled with uprising sobs. “But if you think there is nothing for you here, you can go right now and never return.” Ilene did nothing but stare at Marlene, neither mad nor upset, but simply caught up in a web of hesitation. For fear of making Marlene snap further, Ilene stood back and waited for the next move. A knock hit the door. The ice between them had not yet thawed. The door knocked even harder. “Fine,” groaned Marlene, “I’ll get it. I won’t pretend to do it out of love for you. I’m just a servant after all.” Marlene opened the door. It was Empress Lida with Jacques hiding behind her cape. Unprepared for this visit, Marlene blinked and stumbled through the proper words. “Empress! My… what a surprise. Did you… come to visit Ilene for something?” Lida smiled brightly as she allowed herself in. Jacques trailed behind, trying to stay safely hidden by his mother’s cloth. Still shaken by the argument, Ilene did not have time for a sincere greeting before Lida engulfed the girl with conversation. “I do hope you’re enjoying your new home, Ilene. My! You’re much more beautiful up close. Isn’t she, Jacques?” The young prince’s eyes were lost as he took cover under the cape. Lida cooed at her boy’s shyness. “Men do not appreciate their blushing lady’s as they ought to, hm?” She shifted her tone as she moved into Ilene to set her grizzled hair into new order. “Seriously, though, you remind me of myself when I got married. I was so happy.” Lida looked to something unknown above. “And yet, I felt that something was wrong. I brushed it off of course. But that feeling stayed with me. Do you feel that way?” Ilene screened her gaze to Marlene who still stood vigil by the door. Ilene saw that Lida finished fixing her hair. The empress placed the hair over Ilene's shoulder instead of streaming down her back. Ilene liked it. She replied, “There is something… restraining about marriage for women such as us.” Lida reeled Ilene in by the shoulder and smacked it with a kiss. “Thou art a woman after my own heart, indeed, Ilene.” Ilene was happy to feel so embraced in a world she thought was so cold. “Don’t worry,” assured Lida, “if our husbands give us trouble, we’ll have each other to cling to. Speaking of which…” Lida raised her cape from off of Jacques. He was crouched, playing with a toy boat. He dropped it out of surprise from being uncovered. The boy scrambled to retrieve it. Lida bent down to him. “Jacques,” she chimed with whimsy, “didn’t you have a present for Ilene?” He straightened up and stared. “Oh, I forgot it.” Lida waved her finger. “Go back to your room and get it. And take Ilene’s maid-servant with you. You can show her how to navigate the palace.” Jacques moaned. “But sometimes I get lost too. What if we both get lost?” Lida snickered as if his fears were a joke. “Then you’ll at least be lost together. A soldier should be able to help you.” Lida ordered Marlene. “Keep a good eye on him, woman.” Marlene didn’t even say a word as she led the boy out the door without even looking back at Ilene. “Marlene,” said Ilene. “Her name is Marlene Lida responded, “You’re a better woman than me. I can’t even remember the name of my maid.” Ilene looked out the window again. “I suppose.” “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ilene tilted to see that Lida was looking outside too. “I don’t refer to the scape of this city on the verge of crumbling, and I don’t even refer to the sea. I refer to what lies beyond it. The possibilities, the unknown, anything could happen out there. Anything: good, evil, some valley in between, maybe even a transcendent mountain-top beyond any of it, and all the mysteries in the cracks of them. It pulls you in, doesn’t it? Imagine if it could all be ours and we could consider ourselves citizens whose souls embraced an entire universe to make our own. Why must we clip ourselves to nations and families? What’s to stop either of us from ripping the chains away and grabbing hold of it all now?” Ilene flinched when Lida struck the window with an open palm and a covetous look burning in her eyes. Her lustful breath fogged the window enough to shroud the world. Ilene stroked at her chest-laden pony-tail in discomfort. “So tell me, Ilene, what separates us? I see that same look in your eye. Why haven’t you done it? Why haven’t you tried to break free? Is it fear that stops you? Is it fear that the world isn’t as pretty as how you imagine it from story-books?” Ilene gulped out, “Why haven’t you?” Lida closed the curtain as the sun began to set. It darkened the room and her features. It made Ilene feel as though she were looking at a stranger. The stranger spoke. “I’ve got an escape plan for the ages. Don’t you worry about me. From what I can tell of you, you don’t seem to have any plans at all.” Ilene sat upon the cushions. She stammered out a confession. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t. I mean, what can I do? We all know the world’s unfair, but is it so wrong to make the best of what one has? It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.” Lida sat with Ilene. Her hands sat upon Ilene's shoulders. “Don’t worry. I have a means to get you out of this marriage that goes hand-in-hand with my escape plan.” The door flew open. Lida whispered, “I’ll tell you about it at the party.” Lida spoke normally when she saw Jacques approach. “Well, hello there! Is this a dashing prince come to take us away?” Jacques snorted as he entered. Marlene trailed behind. Lida said, “Since we heard about you from your family, what we found most interesting was that you love story-books. Despite its downfalls, Eurasia actually boasts the greatest library in the world. It is filled with literature that stretches down many floors. It is kind of a reverse-ziggurat, burrowing underground instead of in the above sky. I wish to give you this one from it. It is one of my old favorites.” Ilene felt it as Jacques sheepishly gave it to her. It was of moldy width, but not dusty for lack of usage. It was dense, yet it was somehow light in Ilene’s hands. It was of a dull, and darkish blue. It had red fringes in the binding. It also had a red, ragged, book mark sewed into it. “Well, go on,” encouraged the empress, “open it. Read only the first line, then close it immediately. I always found that to be a good way to start a story.” Ilene read it. A man must come to his princess, or neither have hope. SLAM. A bell chimed and echoed through the palace. “Ah, the hour has come. Follow me, everyone.” They left the room. Ilene held the book tightly to her chest, hungry for the rest of it. Word’s bounced about the walls and the columns. “Silence councilman.” It was the emperor. “I don’t care for it. We have necessities enough. I refuse to let our people be spoiled by foreign heathens.” A hallow and weak voice chirped, “Sire, the merchant’s isles orbit over our lands much more rarely than that of other nations. If we were to expand on using our fleet more for trade than national defense, our economy could improve.” “No,” denied the ruler. “We are going to stay with the plan to ally with Pangea via this marriage. Their wealth will be boon enough.” “But-” “Silence! Our party is about to begin. I’ll have no more of this-” A pause. He must have heard the gathering horde of guests. As Ilene returned to the original quad of columns by the entrance under the open ceiling, she saw Emperor Hailus turn from berating a feeble councilman to see his eyes lock swiftly into hers. His glee was turned back on. This area now had a circle of tables fencing the men gathered around the ruler. It was the custom of Eurasia to organize the dance floor in such a way. It seemed home to a stage for the emperor’s political debates at the time. “Welcome, friends. Tonight, we honor the coming union of these two young lovers. Ilene, Jacques: step forward.” Not knowing what to do with the book, Ilene fumbled it into Marlene’s hands. Marlene threw a face wiped clean of emotion upon her mistress. Ilene tried to look away in what she wanted to convey as shame. She stood by Jacques’s side. The emperor stood before them as his hands waved in presentation of the youngsters. “Tonight there will be much dancing and merry making. But first, we shall allow the two lovers to have their first dance.” The floor was promptly cleared. With a bow, he was gone as well when the music rose from the echoes of the palace again. As strings fizzed playfully about the room, Ilene reluctantly took Jacques’s hand, as was taught to her in the typical dancing position from her childhood days. Of course, Ilene expected to be doing this with someone a bit taller. Jacques tried to get in the position with her, but he kept changing where to put his hand. He obviously had minimal training in this art. So Ilene led. The music stopped blaring loudly and the strings softened to a light tap that buzzed to each of Ilene’s perfectly timed steps. Ilene methodically made sure to lead him in a pattern that placed the two upon every square-inch of the open floor so as to give the illusion that this was a long, and intimate dance. The music droned on with the same tune that seemed as hallow as Ilene’s passion for her womanly prize in her arms. Jacques seemed to care even less as he seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. His odd odor of what seemed like a raw beef sailed from his ever-hanging mouth as he yawned into her face. Just as Ilene began to yawn too, the music abruptly stopped. Relief was not to last as the emperor bellowed, “Now let us all join in!” At least the tempo then picked up. The melody was eerily similar to the quartet heard on the ship in her honor. Livened again by the happy beat, Ilene reached out to cordially shake Jacques’s hand. “You’re a fine dancer, Jacques. I thank you.” Jacques seemed half-alive as he yawned again. “You’re welcome.” Ilene tried to awkwardly make conversation. "I hear that you like to sail. This true?" The prince nearly seemed to jump with new life upon this question. "Aye, yes. I hope to be the first to sail around the world, find new nations. I love the pretty sea more than anything and-" Ilene saw Marlene by one of the tables during his praises of sailing. Making a polite curtesy to her fiancé, Ilene asked, “May I go dance with my maid, my lord? I need to talk with her.” With a muffled affirmation deflating his speech about eh great sea, the boy hobbled to the dining table for some food. Ilene made her way past each couple, including the emperor and his empress. Marlene sipped the last of a glass of wine as Ilene closed in. Their static tension whispered further silence between them in this den of festivity erupting around. Ilene broke the silence. “Would it help if I said I was sorry for how I behaved?” Marlene put the glass on the table. “It always helps, Ilene. The trick if the other party accepts such apologies. And I do.” Ilene took the hand and the two proceeded to the floor. A rousing, but soothing, cello piece yawned in a perplexing melody that left the dancers in a state of swaying motion, floating between steps. Ilene and Marlene decided to copy this style. “I’m surprised by the many dance steps that you remember from my old lessons. You never seemed interested. You always wanted to go outside and play.” “Explore,” Ilene corrected. “Speaking of which, I’m glad this isn’t the wedding parties like we have at home. For we always have those after the wedding. I have that itch to go explore even now as I think of marrying that… child.” “You’re not a child anymore, Ilene. You must do what you must, your duty.” “Who says that I must? What higher power other than a father who wears a crown that says he is in charge? If one could live their life as they pleased, what’s so-” “Please, Ilene. Not again with that debate. Let’s simply spend the rest of the evening as friends. There’s no way to change the course of things. You’ll be married tomorrow. Accept it, move on, and find some happiness with your lot.” Ilene sighed. “I’ll try.” Ilene looked around the room at the dancers swaying on to the cello’s melodious rut repeated to an eon’s beat. Ilene spotted Monote roaming behind one of the tables. Marlene caught Ilene spying. “Curious sight, isn’t he? Is he handsome or hideous under that guise? When I was with the boy, other than going on about how he's going to sail around the world, he explained to me how his brother was closed off from the politics of this government, though he was still allowed in the palace to be taken care of.” “Like a curtain in a jail house,” added Ilene. Both unsure if the faceless one was watching back at them, Marlene implored, “Let’s change the subject. It doesn’t feel right to gossip about one of your soon-to-be family in this way. Did Empress Lida give you advice on married life?” Ilene gazed into the floor. “Only about life in general.” Marlene tilted Ilene’s chin back up. “First rule of dancing with a partner. Chin up. Don’t look so sad. You’d do well to take some of Lida’s advice. She seems like a wise woman.” “I suppose,” listed Ilene as she gazed below again. Marlene tilted the chin up again. “I said: don’t look so sad. It’s the night before your wedding. At least be happy over your last moments of freedom.” Ilene looked around the room, past the dancing bodies, the encircling table of hungry patrons, and even past the ghostly Monote as she saw the soldiers lined behind this circle of celebration. They stood as if guarding to protect as well as sentinels of judgement. “I’m just worried about how much freedom I’ll have for the rest of my life.” Marlene gripped her girl’s hands tightly. “I’m here. Okay? I’ll always be here. Remember? I won’t let them treat you the way they treat Monote. I’d die first.” “Make it last and you’ve got a deal.” The music ended. Everyone clapped. “Let’s see if they have anything good to eat here.” They did. A fine chicken was given to each of the four seats about the round table. Fine water and wine mingled well with the dish. The only short-coming was the bread. It had a hard shell. Though, the inside was soft. “That’s how we make it here,” explained a nobleman next to Ilene. It wasn’t the finest the girl had ever had. But it satisfied her. As night was in full motion, the stars were placed beautifully in the open ceiling above. Ilene wondered why they had the open hole carved into the ceiling. She learned the answer when the torches about the palace were snuffed out at once. |
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