chapter sixteen

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN - the quaking of the world

Along the way, Deema had lost all sense of time. It could have been months or weeks, maybe even years she'd spent on the ship. She had a bigger crew now, and each day was becoming easier than the one before.

Her crew was quite fantastic. While most of them were men, when she went south, Deema had found a few women. Ophelia, Thalia, and a girl who called herself Bella. It was nice to have some women aboard, it was easier to talk to them. Her time on land had learned her that a friend was a valuable thing.

It was a windy day when Deema found herself leaned over the steering wheel, hair flowing around her in the strong sea wind. Most of the crew was eating dinner, but Deema wasn't hungry. She'd been thinking a lot again lately.

The first few weeks on the ship had been close to bliss. There had been so much work there was no time to think about what she'd left behind. About what she felt. Besides that, it was good to be on the ocean again after so long. After all, this was her home, and she wouldn't give it up for anything.

Once her crew started growing, she had more time, and the initial bliss had begun to wear off. Her mind had the habit of wandering back to Yara. She knew forgetting the woman would be impossible, but now she wished she could. It was torture. Deema was always wondering what Yara was doing, how she was, what she was thinking about. She'd hoped it would wear off, but it was beginning to get colder than it had been in a long time, and still, she couldn't shake the thoughts.

"You need to eat," Deema turned her head to see Ophelia with two bowls and a soft smile. She handed the captain one of them. One hand leaving the wheel to take the food. Ophelia lingered for a moment before stepping closer to the wheel. "Maybe you should go inside? I'm sure Ray wouldn't mind taking over. You've been out here in the cold all day."

She was a nice girl, truly. That was the only reason she was still on the ship. Ophelia wasn't the best crew member, she took care of the food, but that wasn't even very good. She was a friend though and had nowhere else to go. Deema knew what that was like. "It's fine," she said, digging into the soup. "I like it here."

Ophelia chuckled, leaning against the wooden barrier. "Trust me, everyone knows that," she looked over her shoulder, to the waves crashing against the ship. "Are you alright?" She decided to ask, head twisting back to focus on her captain.

"Of course," Deema took another bite before shifting the wheel just a bit. The wind was strong today, they'd reach land in not too long.

"I don't mean to overstep," the younger girl said, looking down into her own bowl of soup. "But are you sure? Are you thinking about her again?"

Shaking her head, Deema tried to laugh, but it came out unamused. Ophelia and the three first crewmates were the only ones that knew about Yara, but maybe she'd told the girl a bit too much. "Sometimes. I cared for her," when she said it, she knew it wasn't right. She still did. Visiting the Iron Islands had been playing in her mind for a while, but leaving again seemed much harder than never seeing her again.

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