Embers and The Fiend

Chapter Twelve

Jolena did not know how long she was residing inside her father's white marble trunk. Her muscles ached and her bladder begged to be emptied, but Jolena stayed still and dared not defile herself within the constricted space as loud strange noises were heard around her. Blanketed by her father's clothing, she held his dagger-swords tightly within her hands as the voices became louder and louder around her.

Sweat began to drip down her face and her breathing began to quicken as snarls and growls echoed in her ears. Trying in earnest not to cry, Jolena remembered her mother's words. She had to survive and live in order to continue her father's legacy. Whether it cost her an arm, an eye, or a leg, Jolena vowed not to die and she would keep her vow though her nerves didn't agree with her. As she lay still within the dark trunk, Jolena talked herself into being strong and vigilant until she felt the warm touch of sunlight underneath her coverings and all her confidence disappeared.

The trunk was open.

In that instant, Jolena's instincts to run overcame her desire to fight with honor. Quickly rising up from the trunk, her muscles and limbs screamed in agony as she stumbled from out of her confinement in front of a mass number of strange men. Their clothes were peculiar as were their faces as they looked upon her. Stumbling to get on her feet, Jolena squinted from all the bright blinding light that surrounded her as the strong scent of salt water invaded her nose. As she continued to stumble over her gown and her slippers, Jolena clutched her father's dagger-swords in her hands as she moved toward the edge of the strange vessel.

Jolena was nowhere near home, surrounded by bright sapphire waters, no view of land was in sight. She was lost and away from her home, away from her mother, away from Triste. Falling down to her knees, Jolena screamed. Her frustration, her despair, her sadness was heard from her wail as she failed to stop tears from escaping her eyes. Her heart felt suffocated with pain as if sharp needles were piercing her slowly and ached terribly making it harder and harder for her to breathe.

As she sat, the massive crowd separated allowing a chamoisee colored man to walk towards Jolena. He slowly knelt down towards her allowing enough space between them so as not to make Jolena uncomfortable. As she sat crying, he stared at her only briefly before thumping her head with his calloused fingers. Jolena gasped in shock as she looked at the man in front of her. How could he do that to her? Could she not be left alone to mourn her misfortune?

"How did you get on this ship?" her Attacker asked in her tongue.

Jolena frowned at him, not saying a word until he thumped her forehead once more, stroking her ire and resulting her to strike his face with the dagger-sword in her hand. The man chuckled as he easily avoided her attack, grabbed her wrist tightly, slightly twisting her arm in the process.

"How did you get on this ship?" he repeated as he continued to slowly twist her arm. "Acting foolish will only get you hurt."

"Tell me your name," Jolena commanded as she frowned deeply from the slight sensation of pain and discomfort from her arm.

"I am Akhenaten Yong, Shaman and Quartermaster of this ship," the man said smirking. "Now tell me how you got on this ship."

"I will only speak to the Emperor of this ship," Jolena said hotly as she turned her head away from him. "And without audience."

Akhenaten chuckled as he shook his head at Jolena's behavior. She was proud, demanding, and aggressive. She would get along with the 'Emperor' of the ship just fine. Letting go of her hand and rising from his knelt position, Akhenaten stretched, allowing Jolena full view of his bare muscular torso and his brown bear skin that draped low over his dark blue trousers, both barely clung to his hips causing Jolena to blush at his indecent attire.