The Darkness Steals The Light - The Elim Chronicles

Tides of Change

"Heb?" Jain clunks his wooden spoon down into the stew. "Why in The One's name are we going to Heb? It's as dry as a camel's cunt."

Danan snorts a laugh.

"Eloquent as always. We're waiting for you, Jain. We dropped anchor before sunrise." He places a firm hand on Jain's shoulder and fixes him with a steely, uncompromising stare. "Do not fail yourself again." The mage turns and then strides out of the ship's cabin.

The door squeaks to a slow close as Danan perches on the cot's edge next to Jain.

"I don't know if I can do it." Jain hangs his head in shame as his nervous legs bounce up and down. "Danan, I cannot fall again, but even now, I still long for the touch of the night."

"Trust in The One and trust in me. I will not let you go astray." Danan wraps an arm around Jain. "I am sorry for you."

"You pity me?" Jain's scoffing words come out sharper than he intended.

"Yes." Danan fixes Jain with a sorrowful stare. "But I pity more the lives you have ruined." Danan kicks at his meager bedding laid out on the floor of the ship's cabin, then wrinkles his nose with a loud sniff.

"I stink?" Jain sniffs himself. He shakes his head at his shit and piss-stained rags, barely covering his groin.

"The ship's seats of ease smell better." Danan shakes his head, holding his nose with a snorting laugh.

"Fuck, that's bad," Jain says back, snorting a laugh.

"We have endured enough together, but even I cannot tolerate your stench anymore." Danan points to a barrel of water in the cabin's corner. "It's not much, but it's enough to wash. Fresh water is scarce." He stands and steps towards the cabin door.

Jain peers up at Danan, who stares back at him with a long, weary sigh.

"Jain, don't fuck this up." The cabin door squeaks closed behind Danan as he leaves.

˜ ˜ ˜

The Red Flower bobs on a clear blue-topaz ocean, and loving tides lap at its shallow hull as silent gulls glide overhead.

Lord Varesh stands, vigilant, on the quarterdeck, looking out over the bay to the rolling red desert.

The mountainous red conical dunes climb up to a clear blue sky, then slope down to the bright blue bay of the sea. In a great swirling depression between the dunes sits the bluest of blue lagoons. Beyond the lagoon, mature mangroves thrive in the shallow tidal waters.

On the main deck, small drums knock and beat, while strings pull and nimble fingers pluck and weave. The shanty song of sailors fills the air, harmonizing with the tapping and dancing of their feet.

"Way, hey. We're home. Tonight, we will not sleep alone. Fresh as the sea breeze. A pirate's mind is not on greed. Between those legs is the taste of home. They call her salt beef. Way, hey. The taste of her salty sea. Tonight, we'll dine on salt beef."

Jain's shaking legs climb from the hatch and onto the main deck.

The musicians' fingers wane, and the jolly chorus fades. Two dozen able seamen and boys fall into a silent standstill, their unified stare fixed on Jain with mixed expressions of curiosity, hostility, or nonchalant disregard.

Jain raises his proud head, his sea legs wobbling as he steadies himself. A chorus of chuckles bursts from the crew. To Jain's surprise, Danan stands amongst them, mop in hand. "We all earn our place on The Red Flower." He says it with a shrug.

"The pretty boy has joined us," the Quartermaster says, giving Jain a whacking slap on the back.

Jain does his best to pick up his slack jaw. The quartermaster is as black as coal and ripped with chiseled muscle as hard as black basalt. He stands before Jain, towering over him, beaming the brightest, whitest smile he has ever seen.