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Weather the Storm 1x1

“I am sorry!” Ayla blurted out as she saw the vanishing effects bringing the man to bear his weight more heavily. She knew the effects of her healing could be intoxicating and sometimes addicting to humans. She could tell her understood the gift she was squirreling away from her earlier life. Beyond the potential to do great good, she housed a potential to earn great fortune, when financial gain took precedence over social niceties.

“I mentioned I was trained in medicines and healing,” she explained. “I am skilled with herbs but also know a little of the ancient ways. I seek to find my kin afar.”

Day one was very early to be admitting her crimes openly to the crew, even the higher ranking members, but Ayla feared that a charade now would result in greater punishment later. Perhaps she could convince these men she was indispensable, even enough that they would protect her voyage in the face of fine ransoms. If nothing else, she could minimize the affront felt by those who had never done her harm.

From Quartermaster to sea she began glancing nervously. She eyed the shoreline, attempting to estimate its distance from the ship. Not even sure if she could swim, the elf weighed her options for survival aboard deck, adrift in the waves, or returned to captivity. None of them really seemed to shine best for her.

Clearing her throat, she asked nervously, “I do not know what this Blood Agreement is. I have heard it mentioned though I do not understand what it truly means.” Hugging her arms around her waist in a self-soothing manner, she continued.

“Please forgive my ignorance but my education was limited, and the scope never included knowledge of the world beyond my responsibilities.”

Her heart raced and she struggled to keep her voice steady. What if he informed the captain he was harboring a runaway? What if the Blackthornes sent missive searching for her? Again she looked to shore, eyes glistening with a drowning hope. She’d come too far already to give up now. She would find a way through even if it meant abandoning the safest route and taking to the wilds herself. It would be better she leave the ship and all its passengers out of difficulties.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Equally surprised by the Quartermaster’s arrival, Ayla snapped her attention to the direction from which he came. Reactively, she clasped her hands over her mouth. She had not realized the volume she had reached with her song and was startled to have found an audience.

She stood and stepped parallel to the man some few feet away. His initial question confused her a little, but his reiteration and clarifying gesticulations painted a clear picture.

“No treasure, sir.” Ayla considered the second half. She couldn’t say that the Blackthornes had been entirely vicious, even if they weren’t exactly kind. She gnawed her lip in thought.

She proffered her hands and turned to face him. With a tentative step closer to him, she stretched her arms out before her so he could see the lines across her palms. Channeling focus as she had learned from her mother and grandmother, she furrowed her brows at her fingertips which trembled under the observation of this crew member who discerned her secret early, despite her headscarf carefully positioned to conceal her ears.

A faint energy trickled from her heart, spreading down her arms and pooling in her cupped palms. The most noticeable change would be the waft of salty cool air warming and shifting. Rather than ocean, the aura of a forest after rainfall began to consume the space. Swirling scents of pine and sage emanated from the elf’s shaking hands, highlighted by notes of cedar and fresh-crushed juniper.

Slowly exhaling, eyes closed, Ayla gently brushed the tips of her fingers against the thumb of their respective limb. As if she were rubbing away the sand or dust from her skin after digging in the dirt, she brought her hands together before her waist and folded them together. Ashamed to have her secret discovered already, and feeling as though she were bound to be held for collection, the healer gazed sadly at her toes.

“A different treasure,” she admitted, pinching her eyes closed as if bracing for a blow across the cheek, or at least across her hope.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Dude. The number of battles I have had with AI in generating character art. My lizardperson DOES NOT NEED A FLESHY PINK BOSOM. I swear. And trying to get an elven face that doesn’t look like a Kardashian. Ugh. The struggle is real.

Weather the Storm 1x1

In experiencing her first full day of separation from a gilded cage, Ayla meandered the accessible portions of the ship in a silent ecstasy. She gazed lovingly at the drifting coastline, watched the watery horizon with enraptured awe, and laughed low at the aquatic life that played about the wake, all the while keeping to the fringes of social collectives.

The boldness of her escape had not yet washed into a comfortable ease. She observed chatting passengers and working crew from a distance, soaking in the environment like a child at a menagerie. For the day, Ayla allowed all her apprehensions to fade away with the dock that receded from view in adequate time. Though she knew there would be repercussions to come, she felt secure that such events were days, if not weeks away yet.

At meal, the elf was amazed to find the touch of femininity among the crew. It had been an unexpected encounter to find a woman at work upon The Silver Wing. That wonder quickly became a self-scolding as Ayla chided herself for being so narrow-minded. It warmed her spirit to see a lady out living an independent life of adventure upon the ocean. She imagined that Sabrina would posses a myriad of stories that would involve a subtle change of feeling from that of the rest of the male crew. Making a note to work up courage to invest in conversation, Ayla humbly thanked the cook for her presence and presents of nourishment before taking her sustenance to the open sky.

As much of the day as possible was spent out on the deck. Nibbling her bread and jerky while overlooking the vast sea proved a pleasant manner in which to enjoy a meal. Ayla found she ate slower though, still unadjusted to the constant movement beneath her feet. While not driven ill from the drifting and bobbing as some were, it was nevertheless an experience that required time to establish comfort with.

A portion of her meat was stored away in her pack as she found herself unable to complete the ration at the time it was given. Ayla was accustomed to meager meals and therefore opted to pace herself. She found a place upon the sun-soaked bow where she was fairly sure she would remain out of the way and seated herself on the warm wooden boards. Meditatively, she tilted her face to the sky.

Finding peace and rhythm in the cradle-rocking of the vessel, she began to sing quietly to the bow sprit as it pierced a path onward.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Finding herself accepted openly for the first time in her life, Ayla basked in the partners she acquired for her little ballet. She held hands with the children and spun the girls with their hands aloft, promenaded around the little boys who tried to lead a waltz with her, and laughed among their small-voiced giggles.

In the brief lull between celebratory song and reviewing the rules, Ayla watched the slowly passing coast with enamored eyes. The dance had warmed her limbs, and the sun was minimizing any amount of chill the early morning had introduced to the day. In the respite of time between events, the elf stepped aside from the crowd and adjusted her attire.

Her hands disappeared into the depths of her hood where deft fingers pulled the braid at the sides, causing the hair around the nape of her neck to loosen and sag. She worked by feel, tucking her ears into the tumbles of hair that draped now around her shoulders before catching in the plait. She shifted her scarf from her throat and wrapped it round her head, tucked under the collection of tresses and crossing over her crown like a bandana. With a quick knot, she bound the material into a snug headband that covered the place where her ears were wont to sneak from beneath her hair. Without knowing her ears were what she aimed to conceal, she effectively created a style that kept her locks were confined from whipping about her face on the windswept deck.

Feeling that she had adjusted her disguise appropriately and without presenting herself in a manner that would raise suspicion, she joined the crowd in listening to the expanded expectations from the First Mate and Quartermaster. There was that mention of the Blood Agreement again. Her stomach flipped over itself and she pursed her lips anxiously. When was that going to turn against her?

Intrigued by the prospect of learning about manning such a vessel, Ayla considered the offer of learning from the crew. For the time being, she presumed her utter ignorance of travel on the waters would be more hindrance than help to anyone and she decided she was better off remaining out of the way and tending to the materials she had for remedies if and when her services were required.

The idea of hearing stories from other passengers thrilled the elf in a manner that surprised even her. She knew of a life, yes, but her view had been very sheltered and singularly focused. It occurred to her that she truly had no knowledge of the way an average human family conducted its affairs.

Wrapt in the reverie of learning more about the race which had taught her she was little better than a beast, Ayla was shocked to hear her alias called from the bridge by a familiar voice. She cast her attention immediately up and presented an abashed sincerity towards the captain.

“If there is interest, I would be happy to take part in the exchange of personal histories and entertainment.” She realized she needed to work on her presumed identity a little further. Did she know songs in the common tongue? At least now she knew what could occupy her time in the immediate future.

Weather the Storm 1x1

On the eastern slide of the foreward deck, Ayla basked in the spray as the ship lurched into life. At first, she faltered, gripping the railing a moment tighter to steady her feed as the rocking upon the waves became an active task rather than passive. She bit her lip to hold her excitement, watching the sails above swell with the breath of hope.

From sail to sea, she wondered at the beauty of a world she had never been privy to before. When her tune finished, she was startled to find she was no longer alone. She gave the captain sheepish smile and quietly explained, “A song my mother used to sing when I was young.”

The sudden call from captain to crew elicited a small squeak of breath from the elf. She beamed, overcome with the spreading harmony rippling through the crew and even to the man in charge. A wide, pure joy grin lit her eyes and flushed her cheeks. Though the song was new to her, she rocked gently to the thrumming rhythm in a small celebratory waltz.

Ayla turned small free-form circles in her improvised ballet, felt the wind increase as the shore withdrew. She sashayed gently along the edge of the rail, embracing the future with wide arms and uplifted palms. Expelling a hearty, audible sigh, she allowed herself a laugh and came to rest once again overlooking the water.

"Tenn' ambar, tenn' yássë, er i sáma" she whispered to the horizon, smiling.

Weather the Storm 1x1

The experience of a rocking-ship-sleep soothed Ayla in a way she had not predicted. She awoke feeling that her lungs filled further, her steps would be lighter, and her prospects brighter than ever. Having slept deeply and peacefully, the elf stirred some minutes before the dawn’s light began to kiss the watery horizon. They were not out of port yet, but Ayla miss this sunrise. Before leaving the cabin, she braided her hair to catch any flyaways that may have slipped out during her sleep.

The refugee collected her bundle, slung it over her shoulder and crept from the below deck to the frosty seaside morning. The faintest glints of starlight were beginning to wink away, and the glisten of the moonlight shone down from the blanket of a lighter blue. Ayla took to the side of the ship facing the eastern morning and waited.

In her same travel garb from the previous evening, she enhanced her attire only by winding a length of fabric around as a scarf. This added material sat outside of her cloak which freed her hands from constantly worrying her fingers at the hem of the hood. She felt secure in her layers, thin as they were against the biting chill of air so close to water. She had experienced far worse accommodations than this and none of those ever came with the brilliance of the impending dawn.

As additional passengers and the final crew boarded The Silver Wing, Ayla paid no heed to their bustling. All of her attentions were directed to the sun and the future. Her robes billowed around in the gentle breeze but the cold did not seem to penetrate her heart. Warmth radiated down from the brilliant yellow orb rising from its blue blanket and the elf drank in peace. With her eyes closed, she felt the heat from the sun kiss her cheeks and melt into her spirit.

Humming another ancient tune to herself in meditative bliss, Ayla channeled her focus into being in this moment. They would leave shortly and the best thing she could do to accommodate that was to stay out of the crew’s way. As eager as she was to find out when exactly they would depart, she knew better than to pester any of the staff settling into their roles. Instead, she cast occasional glances to the hive of activity across the ship until anxiety began to tighten her chest. Then she would look to the sun again and feel the kinship of nature her ever-ancient spirit knew beyond her lifetime experience and returned to calm again.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Before falling in with the other passengers for the grand tour, Ayla lingered long enough to hear Captain Church direct his Quartermaster to further outfit their medicinal supplies. While she kept her pleasant expressions, the elf could not help the riot of emotion in her chest as Bart sprinted off to speak with the guild. While traveling under an assumed name, she figured it would be a matter of days before the Blackthornes came looking at manifests. If she were lucky, it would take a few more days for them to realize her name was absent but that a book pertinent to her skillset was secured for this very vessel.

Eager to get out of public sight now, she followed the pair of boys as they gave a brief but effective introduction to deck below. Ayla mused over the duet as she followed them along. They were young, yes, but they were free. They clearly were at ease in their lives, thriving with whatever skills they had been able to acquire. She marveled at their energy and felt that their presence in service of the Captain spoke well of his management and methods. She could not sense a hidden fear or similar shackle beneath the boys’ presentation.

Reaching the room she would be sharing with other women, the elf smirked at the way in which the pair related news of the locking mechanism. It was matter-of-fact and direct. She doubted either of them had any inclination as to why the room of single women may prefer to barricade themselves in, and she was happy for the two in their innocence. She had grown up too quickly herself and knew from too young an age just how cruel the world could be.

Within the secure room, she sought a corner. Small as the shared space would be with all tenants onboard, Ayla was gleeful with the prospect of being on the inside of a door that locked in a manner of protection instead of confinement. She had never experienced privacy before and was always a little curious about the concept. Bathing and dressing routines were done without regard for the elves’ modesty and as such, Ayla had developed little sense of shyness. She engaged on this venture presuming her manners were as normal as the next.

With her corner chosen, furthest from the door, she settled with her back comfortably nestled in the joint of the walls. Legs crossed and bundle in her lap, she leaned her head against the walls and closed her eyes in dreamy meditation. Intentional breathing practices brought her racing heart back to a calm. She prepared to make herself indispensable to the crew. With her knowledge and trade skills, and what limited powers she had been able to manifest under her family tutelage, she would do everything within reason to give the Captain validation in keeping her aboard. Whenever the Blackthornes caught up with her, she hoped they would find her well entrenched in the hearts of all on the ship, even if only for her tea blends and soothing balms.

Weather the Storm 1x1

As she expected, Ayla could sense the positive effect her stated knowledge brought to the Captain’s expectations for the voyage. There was, after all, a very good reason her proprietor family had reached their status in society. The ancient methods combined with modern sciences produced profoundly positive effects in the realm of care and healing. On the backs of the elven skill did the humans thrive.

She smiled as he alluded to cures for nausea. She hefted her bundle and the vaguest clink echoed from within; she had few precious possessions, and her mortar and pestle were among them. She engaged a thoughtful expression before speaking to the air above them.

“I might prepare a blend of ginger root and peppermint leaf,” she mused. “Fennel seed as well. Perhaps a bit of chamomile and lavender for a soothing finish.” She glanced towards him and shrugged. “As a tea or otherwise. If concentrated, it may be administrable as a tincture.”

At his offer to offer her view from the nest, Ayla faltered. Immediately she look to the designated lookout and breathed out a low whistle.

“Really?” she murmured wonderingly. “Oh, that must be a beautiful vantage point. I would be honored.” A smile crept across her face, finally reaching her eyes. Though each of her expressions before had been genuine and warm, the light of joy had yet to reach the gold of her wide eyes. She caught herself drifting away on the daydream of the future and landed abruptly back into their discourse.

“Only if there is a moment of time to allow for it, of course. I dare not presume otherwise.”

Beneath the light of the mast, Ayla rocked on her toes, mimicking the gentle sway of the ship beneath their feet. Dreamy glances to the sky and horizon pulled her in and out of the here and now as the Captain finished his documentation. She liked his stance on listening and helping; it was rare for a human, let alone a man, to place any obligation on himself to use his ears and talents to the betterment of others. It was ever more elusive for a man of status to believe he had responsibilities beyond his own whims. She hoped he was genuine.

“Blood Agreement?” she marveled. The concept was foreign and she was unsure as to what potential snags this may create in her escape plan. She watched as he pressed his signet to the parchment and felt the nerves creep back into her belly.

“Normally the name lights up as well…”

She hoped the concern of her face seemed only for his sake of the results not being to his expectation. Since he seemed to brush pass the incident, Ayla resumed her easy smile, though perhaps it was a more difficult expression for her to muster than before.

“I am most obliged, Captain Church. Please do let me know if I can be of service. I know my skills come few and far between. I will not be a burden to you or your crew. I have faith that your direction will come with all proper propriety of your station and shall do my utmost to fulfill the needs of your vessel.”

Following his direction of finishing preparations, Ayla moved towards the center of the deck where some crew and passengers alike were milling about before finding their arrangements for the evening. She presumed that the Quartermaster would be giving directions to those on board and did not want to miss out on any information she may need to be accountable for in the future.

Weather the Storm 1x1

The serenity of the evening bathed Ayla in calming caresses. She began to sway ever so gently along with the breeze that battered her abundance of linens, humming a faint tune she had learned from her own mother as a small child. For a moment, a leeching dread pried at the corners of her mind, reminding her that her family would pay a price for her abduction whenever her absence became clear. The melody from her infant lullabies chased away the darkness; her family had blessed her flight and they had arranged an explanation that would buy her some days reprieve before the house could label her awol.

Ayla smiled as she heard a heavy footfall behind her. It was considerate of the approaching individual to make their advance known, even though she would have sensed the tremor in the floorboards without the added effort on his part. Though she had heard the announcement of the Captain’s arrival on deck, it had registered to her as nothing more than the call of a gull or the crash of a wave, all part of the song of the ocean.

Taking in one last swig of air, she turned, expecting to resume discourse with the Quartermaster. Even Ayla couldn’t entirely confide the momentary surprise of meeting Captain Church’s gaze instead of his man. She blinked rapidly to conceal the slight shock and keyed into the questions coming forth.

“I am most appreciative for any small corner of your vessel.”

“Hazel Brooks,” she gave as her name. She knew her given name would wind up flagged in days to come, and this alias had been chosen for this venture specifically.

“One way, please.” She made sure to reply with the utmost politeness and respect for the position this man held. She did think it was strange that the captain would trouble himself with passenger lists on such a direct level.

With regards to her effects, she chuckled slightly and tilted her head to the bundle at her feet. She nudged it with the toe of her sandled foot. “I travel light,” she admitted. “A few garments and supplies for my trade.”

“I have experience with medicines and healing. Should anyone fall ill, I would happily do my part in providing care.”

As her replies were received and noted, Ayla observed that the final inquiries did not seem to be recorded in the same way. Nevertheless, she held fast to her respect and continued the tête-à-tête serenely.

“I suppose I am a little nervous. I have never been on a ship before. This will be my first time on the waters. It is both exciting and terrifying.” The truth in her lies bubbled to the surface and she found the exuberance roiling forth in a sudden torrent. “I cannot wait to see the sun rise over an endless sea. Oh! And to feel the winds where no trees nor buildings stand, that really must be an experience. I hope they do not grow angry, though.”

She caught herself rambling and pressed the tips of her fingers against her lips. Clearing her throat, she utilized a brief shake of the head to recenter herself in the conversation with a man of far too much status to bother with her childlike wonder of open waters.

“I look to resettle and build a new life. This land, I find, offers little for me.”

Having abashedly focused to the ground after her unexpected outburst, Ayla found the strength to raise her eyes. Given her heritage, she found little difficulty with her sight at this distance to the gentleman, even in the ever darkening ambiance. She realized he was not having the same ease.

“Oh dear, I did not realize how quickly the light diminished. Please, let us venture toward a light for your notes. It can be terribly detrimental for you to be reading and writing under such poor conditions. My deepest apologies, Captain.”

She turned to head closer to a more lighted part of the deck after obtaining her belongings from the ground. By way of small talk, she ventured, “I would think a man of your position far too busy to concern himself with adding to the passenger manifest.” Sheepishly, she held her parcel like a priceless artifact swaddled in protective canvas. “I was sure your Quartermaster would take my information when he was available. Perhaps I should have sought him out to save you the trouble. My apologies to you both.”