AiDEE-c0
evil flower blossoming cutely
The Bronze tail of Oonai
...a collaborative story. Barca-Marcus
"You better have thought this through."
"Asha, please. You need to trust me a little bit more."
". . ."
...a collaborative story. Barca-Marcus
"You better have thought this through."
"Asha, please. You need to trust me a little bit more."
". . ."
Preface first, the port of Maros.
Eighth hour of the morning,
Early months of the Summer.
Golden rays of morning sun intermingled together with a fresh, salty breeze. The screeching of seagulls sporadically resounded above the heads of those crowding in the throngs, within the walls of Maros. The alabaster port city shone its albedo back at the heavens, buildings of windows without glass, carefully constructed of geometric marble shapes. It was a naval hub, the biggest of its kind around the Middle sea, with a fleet to boot. Ships of pristine, first-class make, lined up by the numerous docks and piers of the metropolis. One such vessel, of civilian type, solemnly floated upon the soft, foamy waves. It awaited its un-anchoring, due together with noon. Kóptaneias, Sunbreaker, loaded and ready to sail the warm waters of the south. It had endured plenty a journey. Certainly, it could endure one more, whereas its patrons... well, no part was certain on that front. Especially when it came to Malāh, a nearly destitute merchant of salt, bearing dreams of striking wealth through trade around the Bronze tail, just like his distant ancestors. Anxiously, he had been pacing around the wharfs every morn, which showed. The winds had whipped his face dry, occasional splashlets of seawater leaving tiny morsels of salt scattered upon his dark hair, wrinkled outfit and swarthy skin. There was a tinge of nervousity to feel with his every uttered sentence. After all, this would be his first long-distance travel.
Asha, a warrior, whose life had become an ushered-of folktale, stood by his side. Her posture was straight and stern, her golden-brown mane dancing a wild, wind-led figure. While generally tied back into braided bun, it was left undone for the city-dwelling happenstance. Her eye, the one that worked and wasn't decorated by a long scar, carefully scanned the surroundings. Every movement and sound resembled a possible danger. Metropoleis, of all the nests of life, were the most prone to criminals disguised beggar. There had been no accidents so far, but the threat always lingered. For this reason, a heavy sword of iron rested at her side. Meanwhile, Malāh stared at the sky. He saw something in the clouds and its feathered occupants. Their freedom, relieved of the worry of morality, surely such a careless life must be one of utmost luxury, so that the poets keep on emblazoning it. Then again, who's to say it isn't rather excruciatingly dull? To survive, rather than live.
But those ponderings were irrelevant. Soon, take-off would finally happen. Sometimes, he wondered why he was so worried. The ship wouldn't leave without him. It was on his payroll, thus a place onboard was assured, regardless of punctuality. Besides, it was such an ancient vessel, surely blessed by the gods to not have had an accident throughout all its life. Maybe it wasn't the journey, but the destination that...
"Hey. You awake in there?"
The man's mind jumped back into the present as the harsh, commanding voice of his companion made itself manifest.
"Ah, apologies, Asha. I was lost in thought... again," he shot back weakly. He was nervous and tired, an undesirable combination of traits. "We are to meet with the captain and the other passengers today, correct?"
The soldier nodded back to him, neutrally expressed. Malāh sighed and spoke again. "Asha, you don't suppose I'll make a fool of myself on the first day, right? I've been all over the place recently, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you as well, in front of all those people..." The conversation briefly engulfed itself in silence, making the distant splashing of waves audible.
"Don't worry about it, Mal. You'll do just fine."
Scene first, the Marina Pterýgio.
Encroaching noon,
Early months of the Summer.
It wouldn't take too long for the captain to arrive by this point. Hopefully, all the others would assemble before he came. Yet again, Malāh began gazing off into the distance. Through a window opposite to himself, the royal blue of the ocean stared back at him. The fish faced a similar dilemma to the birds, however so much more bound. Did they ever think about that? Did they ever think at all? Did they believe in the gods that bound them in the first place? Did any of it matter? Spacing out was a curious use of time...
"At it again?" Asha whispered, not so silently. "...Yes. Seems little I can do to help it."
"You're unwell. Rest more," the woman exclaimed. Given her demeanor, it was hard to decipher whether as a plea, or a bizarre kind of threat.
"Thank you. I'll see to it, soon. I promise." While generally simple and straight-forward, the man was glad for her guidance when it came. Often, it made things better grounded, at the least. The warrior let out a collected sigh, as both of them waited for events to come and go. The Sun shone a brilliant yellow from the center of the sky. All around, the atmosphere was pleasant and soothing, in spite of the smell. Secretly, Malāh prayed this was not a calm before a very, very rancid storm.
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