~ 42 ~

The Stretch of Sea Before You Are Free

The crew was startled but not surprised. The thuds of my footsteps carried through the ground. In the darkness, water lapped against the stone base of the pier. Before us, the land transitioned to three wooden bridges, vastly set apart, with a ship tucked to the left of each.

The humans walked onto the bridge, but when my foot raised over it, all looked at me. It was dark, but I could feel their gazes. Even the ones on the ship, not questioning me with their looks but curious to see if I would go through with it.

I retracted my foot.

Talk about weight problems.

Across the wooden post, various torches lit splotches of the bridge, with Sebal and royalty standing on the edge of one such light. He looked at them both before shrugging. “And here I thought we would be going for a swim.”

Then he coughed into a fist—holding it to the boat. “Now then. May I introduce you to the Shant-A-Lee! A boat best not spoken about by name. Never look inside its cargo.” His hand dropped to his side. “For it's a very dishonourable thing to do.”

Astria's eyes swept to her father. “Dad?”

Zinnine twisted to look at her. “Yes?”

Astria's lips pouted. “Who is this guy?”

“Someone you wouldn't think to trust,” Zinnine began, “but is one of the few in the world that would choose death over breaking a promise.” He nodded at Sebal. “Our kingdom had to deal with him and his crew some time ago. But, since then, we've cleared our waters and lands for them to do as they please.”

Astria's eyes narrowed.

“Tip of advice for you, daughter.” Zinnine leaned close to her ear. “There are friends to be made in hell. And they, when you are at your worst, that you will need the most.”

Sebal lifted the plank from beneath the lit torch, walking with a swing, pausing beneath the two. “The saying goes that a demon can teach what an angel cannot.” Then his head tilted, and his eyebrow quivered. “But, at the same time, an angel can teach what a demon cannot.”

His lips bunched together. “I suppose the lesson is: make friends everywhere. That is the way you'll learn the ways of the world.” He lowered the plank to the side of the boat, where men caught the other end. “You've already got a bandit and a dragon, so you're halfway there!”

He has a point there.

Sebal released the wood and dusted his hands. Placing them on his hips, he turned to us three. Looking at us expectantly, he gestured to the plank. “Well? Don't tell me I set all of this up for nothing! Your father is evoking a great favour for this trip.”

Astria looked at Zinnine. Her mouth opened to say one thing... but it left her. She looked aside for a moment, thinking about what she wanted to say. Then she stepped forward, throwing her arms around him.

Zinnine chuckled, indulging in the hug.

“Will...” Astria began. “...will everything be okay?”

“Questions like that,” Zinnine started, brushing her scalp, “aren't so easy to answer. I cannot speak for what is to come on your adventure—neither what is to appear on mine. But I know that you will face those troubles with the same courage and ingenuity that you faced previous woes with.”

Zinnine took a breath. “As for the Ancasters, well... it would appear that a few of their ships have left this place. With their plot laid in the open, we have greater grounds to lay battle. But, with you gone, I feel they'll be content to leave us alone for some time.”

He shook his head and exhaled. “So much trouble will be coming for your power... and I cannot be there to protect you. It is a failing of a father—as I have failed with the rest of my daughters.”

Astria clasped his hand before he could say another word. “Or you trust me enough to be okay.”

Zinnine smiled. “Let us go with that.”

Sebal and I looked at each other for a moment. We nodded at each other, without much of a reason but with an understanding buried beneath it. Once we returned to the father and daughter, they had parted, but their hands remained held.

Zinnine led Astria to the plank, where Sebal enthusiastically gestured toward the ship when Zinnine was forced to let Astria go. She carried the rest of the way by herself. Once she was crossed, Sebal did so next—lifting the plank next to him.

Men flocked to the corners of the ship, pulling ropes weighted with anchors. Zinnine stumbled back from the boat as the crew worked somewhat in darkness. He walked quickly from the bridge, standing next to my left leg.

I'd been more a statue than a dragon.

“My... power...”

His voice caught me.

“Would I... be able to give it to you at all—or her?”

I blinked down at him.

The power of a Red Dragon? It operates off spite. I don't have that kind of hatred in my heart, nor Astria. Fuck... I don't even think the old man has it in his heart to spite anyone or anything. He could have used that power on the Ancasters a long time ago.

Would it even work with Astria? No... her power, for the moment, takes New Dragons. What about me? Could I take the power of an Old Dragon? Doubtful... but unknown. Astria and I are two consuming agents of this world.

Fuck.

I'm thinking myself into circles.

“We'll be strong enough to make it,” I said without a choice of any other set of words. “Keep the power. You don't know what will come to these shores. We'll find greater strength while we're out there.”

Zinnine considered me with his gaze.

“You speak with greater conviction,” Zinnine said with hands held behind his back. “Is that your attempt to console me?”

“Simply what has to be done.”

“So you understand it too.” Zinnine looked to the boat, the flurry of men passing each other, each set to a task. Sebal led Astria across the deck in exploration and explanation. “I'm leaving my daughter to a loyal thief and a friendly dragon. I know what it took to buy the thief's faith.”

He glanced back at me. “But not yours.”

“Do I really need a reason?”

“To guide and protect someone not of your kind without reward?” Zinnine explained. “Not many would do as such without a cause for it.”

I shrugged. “Something compels me to do it. Nothing more than a feeling—an urge.” I looked down at the old man. “I could lie to you. Say it's for this reason and that. A love for adventure, maybe. Or that something greater awaits me out there. Maybe there's truth to all of that. Perhaps it's all bundled in that compulsion that wants me to leave.”

And then I sighed. “But the truth is that I feel none of those things right now. Only an urge that's telling me to go. To stick around for a bit. To see where everything goes—if it all leads to something. I'll do my best in that regard. I'll try to make it so that, in the end, everything will be okay for everyone else.”

Zinnine glanced at me. “And of yourself?”

My head shook, and my lips bunched. “No good fate awaits me; my soul was cursed before I was even born. Either something's wrong with the world or something wrong with me. In either case, the result is the same. Life has given me enough hints that things aren't meant to go my way.”

Zinnine nodded. “I understand you. I... understand you.” He chuckled. “I suppose that curse extends beyond dragons. For I am too burdened by a terrible fate. All you can do is swallow all the bad and encourage the good you see around you. But, even in the latter, those like us rarely do as much as we feel we should.”

I looked down at him. “Hard to do anything good when you're constantly drinking poison.”

Zinnine laughed. “Ha! So I have chosen well.”

Two figures leaned out from the back of the boat, as around it, torches were lit, lighting the deck. Sebal and Astria shouted and waved at us. The thief was first to speak. “Dragon! Why am I tasking my men with all the heavy-lifting when you could have pulled those weights?”

“Because the water is cold and dark, and your men need exercise.”

“Let us give the poor saps a rest from their workout!” Sebal called and pointed downward. “Show them what they have to look toward on this trip! While we unfurl the sails, why don't you give this ship a little boost.”

Zinnine walked backward with hands behind his back, clearing the area for me to spread my feet, consuming the full area. Placing my claws delicately on the back of the boat, I listened for the creaking wood, testing its strength. Finding the right amount of force, I began the push like a toy boat in the bath.

Water streaked backward from the sides of the ship as its sails dropped. The winds caught its speeds and shot them north. Its touch left my talons as the boat left the pier. It sailed into the darkness, a burning light that dimmed in the distance. I lingered on the land, nearly debating not to travel with them.

Zinnine had made it to where his horse had been tied, unhitching and clambering atop the mount. The horse shuffled and neighed as it adjusted in place. The man looked at me one final time as he settled in.

“I suppose this is farewell,” Zinnine said with the voice of a king, returning to his role in every regard. I nodded to the man beyond that. “A couple of words before you go. In the southern part of the Mainland... there will be a surprise for you there. Something that'll give your heart a rest after all your trouble here.”

My eyebrow rose.

“Second... I reckon you'll start hearing about a sword.” Zinnine turned his horse around and looked at me from over his shoulder. “One of legends. Made by a dragon to slay dragons. A good portion of the people who land there do so to find it. My advice? Leave it to the fools.”

Then he nodded forward. “That's all.”

And then he left.

I stood there for a long while in the darkness. The flickering light of torches was beyond my touch. The moon and stars were dimmed by heavy clouds even in the sky. The only sounds were that of shifting water.

In the darkness, I lingered, unmoving and nonspeaking, not thinking or feeling, merely existing. It'd been the first moment I'd been alone for a while. It'd been this way for most of my life. But, in leaving the company of others, it hurt more to reenter this state.

And something scared me when the voices didn't reappear. The craziness that I thought I had. Suddenly, it was gone. And then I wondered if I genuinely had gone crazy. That is the silence of sanity was scarier than the various voices of insanity.

Or maybe being around others, around real people, has cured and normalized you somehow.

I shook my head of useless thoughts. Flaring out my wings, I flapped them a few times, letting them lift my body from the ground. Burning a fire within my chest to keep myself warm, I flew forward, ascending in the sky, content to fly over the ship.

High enough to watch and guard over the boat.

But not close enough to chat with anyone.

It lets me be alone without being alone.

A terrible state, for whatever reason, my body felt the need to be within.