228th day of the 10225th year since the passing of Kriene
Hazy.
Or Venedir’s eyes were starting to go.
He wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter.
Exhaustion and bruises were starting to get to him.
But the haze brought with it one respite – not being able to see his companion.
Being in Zessar’s company had become a daily occurrence for the boy with the tournament in full swing.
Zessar liked the competitive events especially for the Fighters.
Venedir had already won most events for rookies and a fair few for aspiring.
Since the events for the trained had begun around two days back, it had been more intense for Venedir, even though he wasn’t participating in all events this time around.
Only archery, freestyle hand to hand fighting, sword fighting and shooting.
Luckily, his sword fighting final had just ended – with him as the victor – when he’d blacked out, for the first ever time in his life.
As his senses came to him, his concerns of vision loss dissipated.
And then he saw Zessar.
He groaned audibly.
Maybe vision loss might not have been so bad after all.
Assuming his groan meant physical pain, Zessar spoke – rather, shouted – words of what he thought were encouragement.
“You have to keep going, Venedir.
A warrior gives it his all before he falls.
You have not given it all yet.
You have to fight!” The changing rooms were empty so thankfully no one else would need to be subjected to this.
Though his voice seemed to echo and hurt his ears more in the silence of it.
“Shut up man!
I’ll barely make it through the hand-to-hand fighting final, let alone the rest.
Just… let me think.” It was all fuzzy though, and he couldn’t.
Zessar gave him a minute’s respite, to his credit.
Then he started yelling again.
“You should not think, only do.
It’s your problem.
You were being too technical in your approach.
That guy sucked but still got hits on you.” Venedir stood up, his legs shaky initially.
“That guy was the best trained fighter of Verflane.”
“If you remember that, then there’s likely no brain damage, no more than usual, that is.” Zessar said with a grin.
Venedir shot a punch towards him but his knuckles hit only air.
Zessar appeared on his other side.
“Body’s fine too.” He said and then ran off as Venedir lunged towards him.
“While this has been very fun” He said a couple minutes into the chase.
“you need your energy for the final you have in…” he pulled out a comically large pocket watch, bigger than his face.
“thirty-seven minutes.” He said and spun around with Venedir almost upon him.
“Too slow.” He pouted and vanished into a wisp and Venedir crashed into the wall behind the spot where Zessar was standing.
“I’ll get you bastard…” Venedir groaned in physical pain this time, slumping down to the floor.
“one day.”
* * *
47th day of the 10230th year since the passing of Kriene
Blackness.
Then Venedir’s eyes opened.
There was a red light filling his room but the red wasn’t like the lighting of his room.
Right!
He’d switched off the lights before sleeping.
He also realised around that point that his head was hurting.
He had the feeling that it had something to do with his dreams, but then thought it was stupid of him to feel so.
His thought was affirmed when he realised he was on the floor.
Rolled off, surely.
Nope.
He thought as he slid into the wall opposite his bed and hit it headfirst with a thud which made a feeling of Deja vu flash through his mind, and then the feeling was lost as the pain hit.
Ow.
It seemed he had not been rolled but thrown off.
By a wave- no, could be anything.
His assumptions were all proving wrong.
Might as well stop tempting fate.
Another massive lurch in the ship.
Venedir slid toward his desk and then back towards the door of his room.
He made a note to himself to ask Sylviane for railings on his bedside as he pulled a shirt on quickly – half his wardrobe falling out in the process as inertia and the impacts did their work – and ran out before realising he didn’t put anything over his shorts.
Ahhh fuck it.
It was not indecent or something, but Venedir didn’t feel comfortable going out in (just) them.
This situation could merit an exception, especially given the impacts were not lessening in intensity with time.
Venedir noticed that the others’ doors were also ajar.
Maybe they’d also woken up.
Of course they had.
They weren’t deep sleepers like him.
In fact, in his daze of being woken up so abruptly and unpleasantly, he only just realised that his head and ears – or was it just his ears?
– were ringing.
His hearing was muted, he realised.
Because clearly with these red lights that indicated a crisis, there would be accompanying blaring alarm noises.
Venedir thought of the storage rooms and the medical room first when he was deciding where to go, as was his instinct.
But he distinctly remembered closing up properly, even the kitchen.
He staggered down the corridor, regaining his hearing in the process of his body being slammed against the walls several times.
Lovely.
The gratitude for the silver lining did not persist as Venedir burst out of the corridor to complete darkness, save for the red lights in the ship.
Venedir felt… scared.
His ears – back on duty in full form – told him that those were indeed waves that were hitting the ship, but they were hardly visible, despite being several metres high.
Water sprayed on the deck and the ship angled dangerously each time they were hit, correcting just enough in the respite to not capsize from the next impact.
Venedir looked up at the navigation room to find the rest of the drift there already.
Great.
He was never going to live this down.
More than that.
He was the Tender.
He should have been there in case anyone needed help.
Instead, he found that he was the most banged up one among them as he entered and took in all of them in what capacity he could.
There was a lot of yelling and while he may have been seen, he wasn’t acknowledged or given orders yet.
He tried to get a hold of the conversation so he could contribute.
“in the direction of the waves.” Zander yelled, his voice hoarse.
How long have they been here?
“But we’ll get knocked off course.
We will definitely end up in monster territory, maybe even the sixty-sixth.” That was Gwenyth.
“There’s no choice.” Zander yelled, louder this time, trying to make his voice carry over the wave which was trying to smash Oaty to bits.
“Do it!
We’ll capsize otherwise.
It’s getting worse!” Callie this time.
Zander was already struggling with the helm, letting out loud grunts (of effort or frustration, Venedir could not tell) now and then.
Callie was helping guide Zander with the force and direction of steering.
Venedir staggered closer in a bid to help, barely keeping his footing despite holding on for support with both hands.
By the time he got to the control panel, they seemed out of the worst of it.
The ship was starting to ride on the waves a little bit, being pushed in the direction they were flowing toward.
Water was still flooding the deck but that did not seem to be a matter of concern for anyone there so Venedir deemed it trivial as well.
No one applauded or cheered when they finally were in the clear, the waves hardly a couple feet tall then.
Venedir himself was physically and mentally exhausted, and could barely speak, despite having done nothing.
But he did muster his willpower, going to each of his driftfellows, checking them for injuries and asking them whether they’d hurt themselves anywhere.
Apart from a few cuts and minor bruises, everyone seemed pretty okay, considering.
Now that the ship was stable enough – Zander even trying to steer back towards Fluviale now – , Venedir could get medical supplies and as much comfort food – all ready to eat – as he could carry.
He handed out the food first and then tended to the cuts first to prevent infection, then went about individually tending to all bruises.
Sylviane was the last one he had to check up on.
She looked the worst out of the lot, her bruises comparable with Venedir’s himself.
All surface level and nothing near vital organs.
He told her so and gently squeezed her arm, minding that there be no bruises in a healthy radius of his contact.
“You’re lucky.” He said gently to lighten her mood and made a sneaky move of handing her an extra chocolate and smiling at her.
She smiled back weakly.
It made Venedir feel the saddest he’d been in a long time.
His eyes felt blurry.
Deja vu.
“I feel lucky.” Her voice was hoarse, but the humor was unmistakable.
He chuckled wetly and gave her a gentle hug.
“You’ll be just fine.” He said and then pulled back, starting to tend to her bruises.
“Do you want me to get you anything else?”
“Check in on Xara, will you please?
She should be downstairs in my room.
I told her not to come out since it becomes difficult for her to control her state if she is feeling more emotionally volatile.”
“Of course.
Right after I’m done with you, Sylvie.”
“Thanks, Venny.” Her eyes shined with warmth, like Wairodon in summer.
It took him a fair few minutes to be done with Sylvie, by which time even Zander had left the panel and sat on the floor with the others – after a triple checking of his course setting and putting in place several alarms in case of the slightest volcanic or tidal activity, especially from Youvlon.
Venedir left his drift then, ensuring the door to the control room was closed firmly – to prevent water leakage into the space – after he exited.
Most water on the deck had spilled overboard, though it was still slippery.
Venedir carefully made his way back down, where the water had not reached, luckily.
Sylviane’s room – the second on the left – had its door closed.
Venedir knocked gently.
“It’s me.” He punched himself mentally.
“Uh..
Venedir, that is.
Are you okay?” The door opened after a few seconds, only half an inch.
Xara was sitting in a pile of blankets, having pulled all of them around her.
She seemed to be kind of like a turtle, but just the shell, all vulnerable parts hidden.
“Are you okay?” He asked again, moving to sit down on the chair, turning it towards Xara.
She morphed into a fox then and nodded.
Venedir didn’t register that for a moment.
It was hypnotic, not only her appearance but how she transformed herself.
“Okay, great.” He managed to say after a few seconds of awkward silence.
He then placed his hands on the arms of the chair, ready to push himself upright when Xara’s left paw extended towards him, elongating until it reached his shoulder.
It pressed insistently.
“You…” Venedir thought he comprehended her meaning but it felt… strange.
“want me to stay?” Even as he said it, he felt stupid.
He was a goof, the cook, the lunk.
He could not comfort with his presence.
Tender?
What a joke.
– Zessar’s voice echoed.
Then the fox nodded.
* * *
Venedir’s eyes opened to Sylviane, who was reading a book on her bed.
Venedir’s body ached as he moved to straighten himself.
“Hey, you’re up.” She said, shutting her book without a sound.
“Yes.
How late is it?” He asked as he noticed the light streaming in through her window.
Wairo had been around for a couple of hours, seemingly.
“Thirteen.”
“Oh shit.
I missed making you all breakfast.”
“Relax.
We’re not babies, you know.” She said dryly.
He looked at her, recounting her bruises.
“How are you now?”
“I’m better, though it still hurts to move about.
That’s why I’m just resting.” She said and smiled.
“And Xara?” He asked, not seeing the shapeshifter.
“On deck.
The weather’s nice, or so she tells me.” Sylviane said fondly.
Venedir smiled a little.
“So she’s alright then.”
“You helped.
You’re a good Tender.”
Venedir grinned and raised his eyebrows.
“Not the best?”
“Don’t push it, Venny-boy.
Oh and that reminds me!”
“Yes?”
“I thought of a nickname for you.”
“Oh did you now?
Let’s hear it.”
“Wendy.”
Venedir’s faced scrunched up.
“Nope.
We can nip it in the bud right here.
It’s good that the others aren’t here for this conversation.”
“Actually, I think I’ll get their opinion on the matter as well.”
Venedir groaned.
“I just can’t catch a break.”
Sylviane laughed.
“I’ll put off sharing my discovery for a while.” Her laughter faded a little as she looked at him a little too intently.
“You still look in pretty bad shape, did you not tend to yourself after you were done with all of us?”
Venedir shook his head.
“Nothing to tend, really.
No cuts, no bleeding.”
“But you’re bruised, worse than me even.”
“It’s okay.
I am used to it.”
“Being injured?”
“Yes.”
Sylviane’s expression changed a little in their exchange over the last few seconds.
“Why?” She asked, her tone not light like before.
“I was a fighter in my first year of Faring education, and even before that, I was into the martial arts.
So I have experience of being thrown about and bruised.
This really was just a walk in the park.” He said with a smile.
Sylviane did not reciprocate.
“So that is why they wanted you as a Fighter.”
“Unfortunately, my reputation preceded me – despite how long it has been – thanks to my school mates and other people who have seen me fight.”
Her eyebrows raised.
“You are that good?”
“I like to think I still am, but I don’t fight anymore.”
“Why is that?”
Venedir shook his head and slowly pushed himself up from the chair.
“That’s a tale for another day, hopefully when I’m drunk out of my mind.
Speaking of which, we should get some alcohol at the village.” He said and then grinned at the look on her face.
“What?
You’ve never indulged in drinking?”
“I was underage until last winter.”
“That’s no excuse.”
Sylviane laughed.
“Well, let’s hope we don’t need your fighting skills today.
Zander’s taking us in a straight line to Fluviale.
He said it minimised perilous exposure” she said, making air quotes with her fingers.
“and that we’d touch land by dinnertime.”
Venedir sighed a little.
“Well, it’s been good avoiding fighting for so many years.
That’s the end of that, I guess.”
“Who knows?
Maybe Gwenyth can single-handedly take down any monsters that come our way.”
“Here’s hoping.
And Sylvie?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you make a side rail for my bed?
I really don’t want to fall off my bed again, especially in the manner I did last night.”
“Sure thing, Wendy.”
* * *
As it turned out, Gwenyth was not the most prepared to take down monsters.
She was still learning, she told him.
Venedir wanted to say that it wasn’t good enough but he didn’t.
Instead he asked her what they would do if they did encounter a monster on the way to Fluviale.
Gwenyth said she’d manage and call for help if needed.
To which Venedir got curious with respect to what sources of help they had, really.
She started with his name, which elicited a frustrated groan, leading her to immediately follow up with Xara.
That had taken Venedir aback, though he did not know why.
Of course.
She could become a weapon if needed.
Any weapon, actually.
That realisation relaxed him some.
While the other companions were away, Gwenyth seemed confident.
“Sylviane, Callie and Zander have a year of fighting under their belt too, you shouldn’t worry so.” Gwenyth said.
“Yes, but against the more dangerous ones, they will not be of help.
You need to get better, fast.
We could end up in a situation like this again in the future.
Xara may not be there either.
I should train you.”
“I knew you were good but monster-fighting good?”
“No, not exactly.
Not the tougher ones.”
“Ah well, don’t beat yourself up over it.” She said with a grin.
“I’m not, since I’m not the fighter.” Her grin faded a little.
“But don’t worry, we may just make you a monster slayer yet.
What do you feel about training till lunch?
Finley could help me with lunch and let you be my primary focus for this day.”
The remnants of her grin had turned upside down by the time he was done speaking.
“Till lunch?
That’s like….
seven to eight hours!”
“Is it too less?” Venedir asked and then shrieked, dodging the punch that was thrown towards his shoulder.
* * *
Gwenyth was actually better than she had presented herself to be in their conversation.
While Venedir felt that he would have to fight in this drift in more difficult situations, their situation wasn’t hopeless.
There was a chance that they would end up just fine.
Especially if Gwenyth kept her training up.
That didn’t feel like the most easily accomplished thing, however.
Gwenyth was lazy.
Venedir found himself yelling almost as much as Zessar.
If the Morveille had actually been here to train Gwenyth, he would have popped a vein from increased blood pressure by now.
Venedir had been a much more compliant trainee, to be sure.
Another good thing to come off this was that Venedir could get a pretty workout himself.
He had brought his weapons of choice with him onboard – a sword and hammer.
While Gwenyth wielded a two-handed axe, that weapon was not completely alien to him and he felt that he could still help along her training in that regard as well.
“It matters not the skillset that we start with, it’s our hard work and inner inclinations towards certain roles and activities that will decide who we become.” Venedir told Gwenyth as they sparred on the deck, with him just using his sword against her.
Zander and Callie were spectating.
“And what do you want to be, Venedir?” Gwenyth asked as she landed a particularly hard blow on his sword, jarring him a bit, giving up some ground as her weapon pressed down on his.
“It’s a bit up in the air, if I’m being honest.” He said through gritted teeth and pushed back, eventually managing to side step the direction of her blow and make her lose her balance in the slightest, which was enough for his sword to flash up to her neck.
Callie sighed audibly and Zander punched the air, then sticking his hand out promptly on which Callie put a few coins.
“What was the stake?” Venedir asked and stepped away from Gwenyth, grabbing his scabbard from Zander and sheathing his sword.
“You owe me a thousand push ups, madam.”
“Fine, I’m not going around calling you Sir and shit though.”
“Don’t expect you to.” Venedir said and flopped down beside Callie, holding the scabbard in his right hand.
“Watch it!
You’ll skewer me.”
“It can’t skewer you from within the scabbard, genius.” Venedir returned.
“I don’t trust its ability to keep it sheathed, Wendy.” She shot back and Venedir’s head whipped to say a curse or two but at that very moment, a large shadow fell on them.
Venedir looked up and before he could speak – “DRAGON!!!” Shouted Zander, scrambling to get up and sprinting to the control room.
Gwenyth came to Venedir’s side, seemingly ready to follow his lead.
But Venedir didn’t move a muscle, he couldn’t.
He just sat there, staring.
The dragon was mesmerising.
It was golden – body and wings -, like Wairo had been in his youth.
The dragons were said to have come with Wairo’s golden dust and they surely were more beautiful than stardust if the one above him was any indication.
This was a young creature, its wingspan hardly longer than the Oaty, his body length half that, maybe.
Alarms started blaring but by then the dragon had already flown away from the ship, diving into the water a few hundred metres behind.
“Do you think he’ll realise on his own?” Venedir asked dryly.
Callie smiled and shook her head.
Then her smile faded as she looked back at the dragon.
“The dolphins.” She said, loud enough to be heard over the blaring.
“What?” said Venedir.
“We passed a pod behind.
He must have been flying overhead when he sensed them and flew right down.”
“Yeah… he did appear quite so suddenly.” Gwenyth said and started walking toward the control room.
“I’ll get him to shut the bloody sirens.”
“You might have competition.” Venedir said as he saw Sylviane run toward the control room, not taking notice of them in her distressed state and manner of carrying herself.
Finley appeared soon after, sticking his head out from the trapdoor – quite akin to a jack-in-the-box -, breathing heavily as he noticed Venedir and Callie sitting pretty casually.
A confused expression flashed across his face and the poor fellow looked quite lost and pitiful.
“What happened?” He asked, seemingly trusting their opinion over the alarms – quite level-headed of the boy, to be sure.
“Zander’s lost it.” Callie responded tonelessly, her face plain and impassive.
Venedir bit back a laugh and made an internal note reminding himself to suggest a game or two of cards in the evening.
He could watch Lee make such expressions for an extended period of time.
“Oh… okay.” Finley said and disappeared into the ship, the trapdoor shutting as Venedir burst into laughter.
“Such slander about our esteemed navigator is intolerable, this is unbecoming of you, Farer Callie.” The accused grinned, her expression turning serious when she looked back at the dragon.
“Venedir?”
“Yeah?”
“If that dragon had attacked us, would we have made it out okay?”
“Oh definitely.
This was a smaller one, not as much of a threat, but he could have done a number on the ship before going down, if it really wanted to.” The alarms were finally off and Venedir didn’t have to speak so loud.
“Oh… maybe we should see about a ship concealer or something, while we’re at it.
Oh wait, there’s Sylviane, let’s ask her.” Callie said, catching Sylviane’s approach and Venedir turned as well.
“Sylvie, do we have a ship concealer in supplies?”
“Yes, we should.
Why- ohhhhh…” She smacked her head.
“Right, sorry.
Yeah I’ll get it set up right away!” She said and sprinted off.
“Some drift we are.” Callie said and sighed, looking at Gwenyth and Zander as they stepped out of the control room and came towards them.
Zander had the good sense to at least look sheepish.
“Are we still on course, Captain Zander?” Callie asked.
“Yes we are.” He said with a big smile and then looked at Venedir.
“What’s Finley making us for lunch, Wendy?” He said and before Venedir could protest the nickname, Zander winced as he was punched in the side by Gwenyth.
“Do I get any reduction in push-ups, Sir?”
“And that’s only after one day of training.” Venedir said to Callie and Zander proudly.
“Good job, Gwenyth.
You get an entire exemption.” he said with a grin.