Anastasia, Cynwaer, Sjan-dehk, Thea
Thea felt a flicker of confusion at Cynwaerâs brusque attitude, but quickly brushed it off. She wrapped her arm around Anastasia's waist, supporting herself with a giggle.
âAnnie, you're right, sailor boys are the best!â she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement.
She turned her attention to the captains, her eyes bright with curiosity.
âYes, please! Tell us about your wildest adventure at sea. I love a good story!â she said, her enthusiasm matching her friend's. She leaned against the bar, ready to immerse herself in whatever thrilling tales the captains had to share.
She then briefly leaned into Annie and whispered, louder than she intended,
âDid I do something wrong? Why does the red haired one seem so angry with me?â âHeâs probably just very attracted to you and doesnât know what to do with the energy.â Anastasia whispered back.
Cynwaer smirked. If Thea was trying to be subtle, she had failed spectacularly. Not even the din of the tavern could keep her attempted whisper from his ears. Letting out a sardonic chuckle, he shook his head and took a long sip from his mug.
âOh, daeân yer worry yer pretây wee âead, little lass. âTis nae yer person I âave trouble wiâ,â he said without looking at her. It wasnât entirely a lie; at least three-fifths of it was the truth. In fact, between Thea and Annie, Cynwaer had to say that the former was more palatable. She was, at least, sharper than her butterknife of a friend, if she could so quickly gather that Cynwaer wanted them gone.
A shame she was a noble girl.
ââTis yer entire sort Iâm daeân like,â he said after another sip. This time, he shot a piercing glare at Thea, his green eyes narrowed and filled with disdain.
âWhether yer jusâ a pair oâ bored lasses, or yer treatinâ this like some adventure instead oâ taâ lives oâ folks who cannae âave betâer, I daeân care.â He paused and drew in a deep breath. A fire was starting to grow in his chest, and he extinguished it before continuing. Riling himself up now would be a mistake.
âIf yer quick enough tae get that I want taâ twos oâ yer gone, then daeâ us awâ a favour anâ get taâ feckââ âCaptain Sjan-dehk,â Sjan-dehk suddenly interrupted. He leaned over the counter and looked at Annie with a friendly smile, at the same time pushing his empty mug away.
âCaptain Wasun, that is not how we say. Captain Sjan-dehk is better.â Cynwaer twisted around in his seat, a mixture of exasperation and annoyance colouring his rugged features. Sjan-dehk merely cocked his head and raised a brow.
âThey are noâŚThey are not trouble, Captain. The two of them, I do not mind if they join.â âCaptain Sjandehk!â Anastasia repeated excitedly and smiled,
â That sounds even better!ââWell, I dae,â Cynwaer grumbled.
âAnâ word oâ advice tae yer, Capân. Lasses like âem are always trouble, nae feckinâ exceptions. Either theyâre taâ trouble, or they bring it tae yer.âSjan-dehkâs eyes narrowed momentarily, in an act so quick that even he didnât realise it himself until after the fact. That Cynwaer was so aggrieved by the mere presence of these two girls was very curious. Suspicious, almost. Was this merely an aspect of Caesonian society that he failed to understand, as had so often been the case? Or was there indeed something off about the two girls? Or even off about Cynwaer, for that matter? The questions that swam through Sjan-dehkâs mind were endless, and most annoying of all, there wasnât much he could do to answer them. It wasnât as if he could just start questioning his current company just like that. Not without looking suspicious himself, in any case.
And so, he did what he had learned to do rather well over these past few days. He pushed such thoughts aside, and resigned himself to merely waiting and seeing.
Thankfully, Annie had asked a question he could answer.
âIt isâŚNot good, yes? To ask a sailor about storms,â he replied slowly with a grin.
âIt is likeâŚLike asking you about your most bad and most painful day. That thing, not good to talk about, yes?ââAye, the Capân âereâs nae wrong,â Cynwaer added. There wasnât much of a bite in his words as compared with before; he sounded matter-of-fact, as if this was common knowledge.
âStormsâre terrible things, anâ frae âow yer askinâ, I daeân think yer eâer experienced one, lass-in-pink.â âOops⌠Sorry!ââBut,â Sjan-dehk continued.
âYou ask, so I answer. There was one.â Cynwaer let out a long sigh, but didnât stop him. He instead beckoned the barkeep over to refill their mugs.
Sjan-dehk nodded his thanks to the burly man behind the counter, waited until Cynwaer placed another two coins into manâs shovel-like hands, and sipped from his mug.
âStorms, they are like dance, yes? Between Mother-of-the-Waves, Storm-gull, and One-that-dwells-below. The Gull, it makes the wind strong. The One-that-dwells-below, they findâŚNo, they collect the ones that do not survive. And the Mother, she challenge us with her Sea. She makes sure we are strong.â He drank from his mug again, wetting his lips. Vivid memories flashed in his mind. The cacophony of lashing winds, crashing waves, and shattering hulls echoed in his ears. Dark skies and darker waters filled his mindâs eye. He could even taste blood and salt.
âSo there is one place. We, Jafins, we call it Yahk-peh Huun. It meansâŚIt means âWhere storms are bornâ, I think. It is violent place. Mother, Gull, and Dweller all play there. It is the Way, that all Jafins sail there once before they become Captain.â He shook his head slightly and wrapped his hand around the mug, but didnât lift it. Instead, he just stared at it.
âAnyway, not that story. This is when I sail there for second time.ââTempestesâ feckinâ tits, what possessed yer tae dae that?â Cynwaer asked.
âIt was war. Sada Kurau, we were being chased.âCynwaer nodded slowly.
âMust be a feckinâ grand story.âSjan-dehk looked at him, then at the two girls with an inscrutable look on his face.
âIt was war, it is never good story,â he said, voice suddenly dark.
âFour ships chase us. Strong ships. All have many guns. Sada Kurau is good, but against so many, she cannot win. But the sea, we knew it veryâŚWe knew it very good. So we lead them to Yahk-peh Huun. That time, there was a storm there. Our enemies, they followed. That time, skies were dark. Very dark. And rain very heavy. I could not see. My crew could not see. We sail like blind. And the sea, it was strong. The Mother, she tested all of us. Three times, she almost took us to sail to Unending Horizon.â He paused to take in a deep breath.
âSada Kurau, she lost people. Some fell into water. But we cannot save. It would kill us. So we must leave them. And our enemies, they did not know Yahk-peh Huun like us. So they suffer. Their ships, all destroyed. All sank. Their people, some survive. They beg us to save them. But how can we?âCynwaer could easily tell where Sjan-dehkâs story was leading. It was a story anyone who plied their trade on the waves knew all too well. To attempt a rescue during a storm â especially one as powerful as described by Sjan-dehk â was both insane and reckless. Callous as it was, there was no point in risking an entire ship to save one, or even a handful of people. A Captainâs first duty was to their ship and crew, and thus had to prioritise their safety. [color=DC143C]âYer cannae,â he said in a firm tone.
âYer cannae eâen feckinâ stop in a storm, aye, or yerâll be fecked by waves anâ shite.ââYes, it is that,â Sjan-dehk said and took a long drink from his mug.
âSo we do what we can. The ones that fall and float in water, we sent to the Dweller. By bullet, death is quick. That way, it is a kinder death.â He let out a long sigh and shook his head. In a quieter voice, he repeated,
âIt is a kinder death.âHe paused for a while, then looked at Annie. There wasnât any sadness on his face, just a slight hint of wistfulness. As if he had just recalled something that pained him, but also something that he had long since accepted as inevitable.
âThere. Your story. Now, take advice. Do not ask any other Captain same question. Okay?âAnastasia frowned and crossed her legs as she sat on the bar still.
âThatâs fucking depressing.â She bluntly commented once silence filled the air. She tapped her chin as her eyes fell on Sjandehk.
â Yeeaaaaah I will probably take that adviceâŚ. AnywaaaaaysâŚ.â She gazed between the two captains.
âYou cuties wanna do some shots with us? Totally on me.âThea felt a pang of sadness as she listened to Sjan-dehk's harrowing story, but her gaze remained fixed on Cynwaer. His earlier disdainful words echoed in her mind. What did he mean by "her kind"?
As the story concluded and Annie asked about doing shots, Thea took a deep breath and addressed Cynwaer directly.
"What exactly do you mean by 'my kind'?" she asked, her tone firm yet curious.
"I can only assume one of two things. Either you mean blonde women, which I find unlikely and silly, or you're referring to what you perceive us to beârich and spoiled."She straightened up, her heterochromic eyes locking onto his with determination. She had dealt with jealousy and hatred for her wealth all her life and she was tired of it.
"It's curious for you to judge me for something I had no control over, being born into a certain life. You wish for me to stick with 'my kind,' yet who does that help in the long run? If I were to only frequent bars for the rich, wouldn't that just put more money into the pockets of those who already have plenty?"Cynwaer couldnât stop the grin which spread across his lips as Thea spoke. Not that he had any desire to, in the first place; she was proving to be the most entertaining person he had seen or heard all evening, albeit unintentionally. And with each successive word, his grin grew wider and wider, until it was a veritable smirk, filled with equal amounts of amusement and mockery. There wasnât anything new in what the girl slung at him. Indeed, it would have been boring were it not for her fervour, and how she seemed to truly believe in her own speech.
He sipped from his mug as she spoke, and said nothing. Let the girl have her moment of glory; it would make his response all the sweeter. Peering over the uneven rim of the mug, his piercing, verdant eyes gazed into her own, mis-matched irises.
She gestured around the tavern.
"But coming here, spending my family's money in places like thisâdoesn't that benefit those who need it more than the rich? Isn't that a better use of my resources?" She leaned forward slightly, her voice softening but remaining resolute.
"I may not fully understand your world, but I'm trying to do something good. And if that makes me 'trouble,' then so be it.ââYer done, then?â Cynwaer asked and placed the mug on the counter. Before Thea could reply, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and said,
âAh, feck it, âcourse yerâre. Yerâd still be mouthinâ aff, otherwise.â Casually resting an elbow on the bar, he turned to look at Thea, and for a moment, he didnât say anything, and merely looked at her with that same, condescending grin on his face.
âTell yer what, lass, I wasânae gaeân tae say yer type was ârich anâ spoiledâ, but now âat yerâve gone anâ said it, I like taâ sound oâ it. Cheers fae that, Iâll be usinâ it frae here on out.âHe leaned back slightly.
âNow, where dae I begin? At taâ start, I sâpose. Iâm sorryââ he said it in a way that didnât sound like he was apologetic in the least
ââthat yerâre offended, but Iâll dae be fair tae yer and tell it tae yer straight. I donât really feckinâ care if yer feelinâ are âurt. Aye, mayhaps I was mean tae yer fae somethinâ thatâs nae yer fault, but yer know whatâs fecking worse? Gettinâ killed âcause yer unlucky enough tae be born wiâ taâ wrong blood, or âavinâ tae work yerselâ to taâ point oâ death, or beinâ treated like a feckinâ slave âcause some other fecker âad the fortune to be born taeâ a fortune. If yer donât believe me, then gae take a gander through yer own villages anâ see âow yer people live. Gae âave a look at what yer Kingâs lads dae, and maybe yerâll start tae understand why folks like me might nae like folks like yer.âAware that he was getting far too close to giving himself away, Cynwaer quickly stopped himself and took a long drink from his mug. It was difficult â close to impossible, even â for him to avoid going on a rant. Not when he had witnessed just about every possible injustice in Caesonia, due in no small part to his work with Kidelaut and Sioridann. And not when he had experienced such injustice himself.
âAnyway,â he continued and glanced sideways at Thea.
âYer got one thing wrang, lass, anâ aye, âtis me fault fae makinâ yer think what yer think, and sae I apologise fae it, but Iâve really nothingâ against yer type cominâ down âere. Anâ Iâll geeâs it tae yer, rather yer spend yer ma and daâs coin âere than up near taâ castle.â He let out a short chuckle, one that was almost derisive.
âBut donât gae thinkinâ yer daeân anyone a grand favour. Unless yer buyinâ out taâ âole feckinâ place each anâ eâery night, the coin yer spendâs just a drop in taâ ocean.âSjan-dehk had been listening to the exchange with a growing sense of discomfort. Part of it was because, between Cynwaerâs accent and the ambient cacophony, he understood just enough to be drawn into the conversation, but not enough to fully comprehend what was being said. It was as unhappy a balance as it could be.
The other part was that as much as he didnât like how Cynwaer was treating Thea â and as little as he understood â he couldnât quite disagree with the parts he did understand. For all his vitriol and unnecessary aggression, the other Captain did make sense; if Thea was trying to frame her coming to this tavern as an act of kindness, then she was wrong. Of course, that was if that was truly her intent, and Sjan-dehk wasnât about to place too much trust in his ability to comprehend what was going on.
And so, he simply said,
âYes, but many drops make ocean, no?âCynwaer threw Sjan-dehk a look over his shoulder, then shook his head.
âAye, but thatâs only if âtis a drop oâ watâer weâre talkinâ about.â He turned back to Thea.
âLass, yerâre a customer, thatâs all yer are. Donât get me wrang, thereâs nothinâ wrang wiâ that. Iâm sure our pal taâ barmanâs mer than âappy tae take yer ma and daâs coin, but letâs nae lie tae ourselâs, aye? Yer jusâ âere fae taâ same reasons as anyone else. Yer âere tae âave a drink, and maybe a change oâ scenery, anâ Iâll naeâ say anythinâ about that fae now.âThen, after emptying his mug in a long swig, Cynwaer finished with,
âAnâ come now, if yer really want tae âelp the common folk, thereâs easier ways than âavinâ a drink at this hour. Iâm sure a lass like yerâve got coin, status, maybe eâen influence tae spare. Nae shorâage oâ poor folk needinâ a donation tae get food in their bellies, or fisherfolk needinâ tae repair their boats, or peopleââThat was about as far as Sjan-dehk allowed Cynwaer to go. He stood up and physically inserted himself into the conversation by standing between the red-haired Captain and Thea.
âI think you say enough already, yes?â He said to Cynwaer, and although his tone was calm, the displeased look in his eyes made it clear that he wasnât seeking an answer to that question.
âThis thing you talk about, you areâŚYou feel strong for, yes? That is good. But sheââ he gestured to Thea
ââis a young girl. Your feelings, they are not directed correctly, yes?âCynwaerâs lips turned into a frown, and he shook his head.
âTrust me pal, I want tae believe yer, but Iâve seen enough tae know I cannae.â He let out a sigh and hung his head for a moment, his eyes closed in thought. Then, he looked around Sjan-dehk at Thea.
âBut Iâm man enough tae be able tae know when Iâm barkinâ up taâ wrang tree. âTis yer ma or da I should be rantinâ tae. Nae a young lass, eâen if sheâs a mouthy one. Anâ besides, Iâm nae lookinâ fae a fight.â He smirked, this time a mischievous one rather than one meant to annoy.
âCome find me a night or two frae now, if yer spoilinâ fae one. Iâll let yer âave it well and proper, then.âSjan-dehk smiled at him, then at Thea.
âGood. Now we can do important thing,â he said, looking at Annie.
âSorry. You wanted something to drink, yes? Rude of us toâŚTo not pay you attention, I apologise for that. You order what you want. I can pay for it.âAnastasia had been watching the exchange, her gaze fixated. Despite her outward behavior, she had been well aware deep down that their presence hadnât been welcome. Frankly she just hadnât really cared. Out of Cynricâs vision, she made a puppet with her hand, opening and closing to indicate blabbing. She gave Thea a comforting wink.
â Redhead sailor boy, her point was that it only benefits the tavern to have her business, silly. Doesnât matter if she came here with that intention or not, just matters you should thank your lucky stars sexy ladies with loaded pockets are here instead of bitching about it.â She then took out her coin purse and gazed at Sjandehk,
â No worries babe, I can buy us all drinks. Super sweet of you though. â Anastasia then whistled to beckon the bartender.
Sjan-dehk looked at Annie for a moment, blinked once, then shrugged. If the girl wanted to pay for their drinks so badly, then who was he to stop her? Of course, Sjan-dehk knew that were his father present, the old man would have probably disapproved, vocally and physically. But as far as Sjan-dehk was concerned, he had already paid his dues to courtesy by offering. That the girl turned him down had nothing to do with him.
Thea let him go off, keeping as neutral of an expression as she could as she did so. She wasnât quite surprised he was reacting in such a way, had actually even wondered if sheâd get a similar reaction. She couldnât entirely blame him, she wasnât blind to the injustices around her, but she also knew that she herself had little influence in helping fix it. If she were in better standing with her mother and others with higher authority than her, perhaps she could use that to help in a more effective way, but the truth was that she wasnât. So here she was, trying to do what she viewed she could.
With all his words, however, she actually accomplished something sheâd actually been after. She wanted to determine more of this manâs character, as his reactions were much more harsh than the other manâs. So when Sjan-dehk stepped in, she simply continued watching Cynwaer for a moment. Just the slightest hint of an accomplished smile crossed her face just before she turned away from the redheaded man and turned to address Annie instead. [color=o35e7b]âOh Annie, Iâm so sorry! I havenât given you the attention you deserve! Shots sound like a lovely plan!â[/color] She said to her friend, back to her bubbly self once more.
Anastasia smiled and pulled her friend into a hug.
âAww my Thea baby!â Cynwaer caught the look on Theaâs face, but said nothing about it. Instead, he let out a resigned sigh, shook his head, and went back to nursing his mug. There wasnât any use in continuing this little spat any further; quite clearly, the girl merely wanted a rise out of him, and he wasnât going to give her any more of that than he already had. And besides, there wasnât any use in talking to her about these things. Either she didnât care, she didnât understand, or she wasnât in a position to do something about it. Cynwaer would just be wasting his breath.
Better for him to leave such things to Kidelaut. That former knight knew how nobles worked and how nobles thought, and knew how to speak their language. Or Sioridann; the question mark of a person could convince anyone to do anything. The peasantry, disenfranchised workers, the oppressed commonfolk, Cynwaer always did work better with those groups.
Just then, the barkeep returned, thick arms crossed over a chest that was just as broad, and his lips turned in a slight frown. He looked down at Annie. If he recognised her for who she was, he didnât show it. It didnât seem like he would have cared, even if he did. âFirst things first, girl. Donât whistle. Iâm not your damn dog.â Though his voice was level, its gruffness accentuated the hints of displeasure in his tone. âSecondly, what dâyou want? We donât have any of the fancy stuff, so donât even ask. Your choices are mead, shine, or whiskey. Some of itâs legit. Some of itâs brewed out back.â
âWord oâ advice, lass,â Cynwaer piped up, leaning over the bar to look at Annie. There wasnât a trace of his earlier belligerence or annoyance on his face.
âUnless yer tired oâ âavinâ a brain thatâs able taâ string mer than twa thoughts together, daeân touch taâ âome-brewed shite. âTis feckinâ like lantern oil on some days, anâ Iâm pretây sure itâs actually lantern oil on others. Yer could light âalf oâ Sorian wiâ that shite, aye.â Anastasia first smirked at the barkeep,
âShine sounds good, puppy.â Her gaze shifted to Cynwaer and she raised a brow,
âThink I canât handle my booze? âŚSounds like a challenge to me.â The barkeepâs eyes narrowed, and he drew in a deep breath. âListen here, girl,â he began, voice a low growl. âI told you once already, donât treat me like your fucking dog. If you canât follow that one simple rule, then you and your friend should fuck right off before I do it forââ
âAwârighâ, easy, easy,â Cynwaer quickly interrupted. The barkeepâs threat wasnât an empty one; it had taken a handful of painful lessons for Cynwaer to find that out firsthand, and as amusing as it would have been to see a pair of noblegirls tossed out by the mountain of a man, he wasnât in the mood for what would almost certainly be a huge commotion.
âJust geeâs taâ lass what sheâs after, aye? Iâll eâen pay fer âer.â He cast a sidelong glance at Annie and smirked.
âAnâ besides, if yer still servinâ that sort oâ shite, then sheâll be payinâ fae âer wrangs in nae time at awâ.âThe barkeep huffed through his nose, but reached under the bar for a pair of glasses. He placed them on the counter, then turned around to pluck a mottled and clearly overused bottle from the rickety shelf clinging to the wall. âI sâpose youâre right, Cyn,â he groused and popped the cork off the bottle with a finger. Right away, the burning scent of strong drink filled the air.
Sjan-dehk wrinkled his nose.
âWhat is that? Whale oil?âCynwaer grinned.
âNae that fancy, pal. âTis taâ drink oâ the masses.â He took the bottle from the barkeep and poured a generous amount in both glasses.
âThere yer gae, lass,â he said to Annie and nodded to Thea.
âOne fer yer, anâ another fae yer pal oâer there. Daeân force yerselâs, Iâll tell yer that now.âAs the hours passed and the drinks flowed, the atmosphere in the bar grew more lively. Anastasia, now visibly drunk, swayed slightly as she clung to Thea. Her voice grew louder and more uninhibited with each passing moment.
âYou know what we need to do?â she slurred, leaning heavily on Thea for support.
âWe need to find the mafia! I need my revenge!! Theyâre out there, and we can totally take them down! Whoâs with me?â Her proclamation drew a few amused glances and chuckles from the other patrons, but Anastasia seemed utterly serious, her eyes gleaming with inebriated determination. It was then a lovely little tune cut through the air, drawing the attention of many nearby.
âadieu to you my Dinah a thousan' times adieu
We`re goin' away from the 'oly Groun' and the girls tha' we love true
We will sail the Sout' sea over and then return for sure
To see again the girls we love and the 'oly Ground once more.â
Anastasia had no idea just what song was being sung, but she decided to sway with Thea with a pleased smile as she listened.
Amusement had long since given way to concern as Cynwaer watched Annie empty glass after glass after glass of the barkeepâs brew. By the fact that she was still conscious, it was clear that she could hold her brew better than the average man. By the way she rambled about looking for and fighting a mafia, however, it was clear that her mind was on its way out. He reached for her glass.
âAwârighâ, I think yerâve âad enough fae one nightââThe song that interrupted him also distracted enough that, for a moment, he forgot what he was doing, and he simply listened. He recognised it as an old sailorâs song; one that was unknown to a younger crowd, but very familiar to a seasoned man of the sea such as he. There were a few scattered attempts to carry on after the unseen songstress stopped, but either the singers were too soft or the lyrics too garbled for anyone to join in.
And so, Cynwaer took it upon himself to get the job done right. He drew in a deep breath.
âA fine lass yer be,
Yer taâ lass I dae adore,
Anâ still live in âope tae see,
Taâ âoly ground once mer.â
He paused and looked around the tavern.
âCome now lads, yer know what tae dae, aye?â âA fine girl you are!â came a roared chorus.
Cynwaer chuckled, shook his head and turned back to the bar. Behind him, the crowd carried on with the song with vim and verve.
âTell yer what, pal,â he said to Sjan-dehk.
âI miss these sort oâ songs, aye. Most lads these days prefer taâ sort wiâ awâ that bawdy shite and what âave yer, but these ones?â He let out a long sigh and patted his chest. For a moment, a wistful look came over his face, but he quickly pushed it away with a rueful chuckle.
âThey get yer righâ in taâ...â He trailed off and shook his head.
âWell, I think yer get what I mean, aye?âSjan-dehk nodded. He supposed it was the same everywhere; a sailor only ever sang about one of three things. The ship, the sea, or a woman. Sometimes it was about two of the three, or all of the three at once, but it was rare to find a shanty that sang of some other thing. He couldnât say he didnât understand, however. Anyone who sailed the open sea became intimately familiar with both their ship and the waves, and thoughts of home, well, those always lingered in any sailorâs mind, whether they wanted them to or not.
âIt is nice song,â he remarked.
âAye, âtis sae,â Cynwaer replied.
âYer âave any good ones tae share?âThere were plenty of songs which Sjan-dehk knew. There were eulogies to the dead, prayers to the Mother, or even ones bemoaning a lover who had absconded with another whilst the singer was out at sea. Whether Sjan-dehk cared to share them, however, was a whole other matter. He didnât think of himself as a capable singer, and even here, in a place where most would likely not understand a single word he sang, he was still reluctant.
âYou would not understand them,â he said.
âLet us enjoy what we have, yes?â