Unveiled Shadows: Tales of a Lich

Chapter 22 - (Valbrand)

The scorching sun hammered down with unrelenting ferocity, its blinding rays intensified by the stagnant air that seemed to suffocate all in its path. The wooden deck beneath Valbrand's feet felt like a branding iron, searing his soles with an agony of heat. Even the sea appeared to writhe and shimmer with an intense, golden light, as if it too were trapped in a living nightmare under the merciless sun. To Valbrand, the entire scene was a sweltering, suffocating hellhole.

"By the gods" he groaned aloud, his words lost in the oppressive heat like a prayer to a distant deity. "Why would anyone want to live here? Only the gods themselves know the madness that drives such a choice."

"Is the giant feeling a little too toasty again?" Francis asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he flashed a mocking smile that made Valbrand's ears perk up in annoyance. The sun beat down on them, making the wooden deck beneath their feet feel like an oven, and Valbrand's skin prickled with sweat.

After several weeks of listening, he could now decipher a few key words - 'giant,' 'rum,' 'sails,' 'sea,' 'boat,' and the occasional expletive like 'fuck.' He chuckled to himself, remembering how Francis and their shipmates would cackle with glee as they taught him the curse word.

"You can curse with it, love with it, hate with it, and fight with it!" Francis had exclaimed, his laughter booming out like a cannon's report as he doubled over in mirth. Tears streamed down his face as he howled and hooted, Valbrand having never seen anyone laugh so uncontrollably before. The sound of Francis's laughter was infectious, making Valbrand's own lips curve upward in a gentle smile.

The smell of saltwater and tar wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of rum as it was passed around the group. Valbrand's ears picked up on the murmur of voices, the clinking of mugs, and the creaking of the ship's wooden hull. It was a cacophony of sounds that would have been overwhelming just weeks ago, but now felt like home.

Valbrand let out a low rumble, more growl than laugh, and Francis raised an eyebrow. "What's got you so grumpy, giant?" he asked, his tone playful but with a hint of concern beneath the surface.

Valbrand's frustration boiled over as he snapped, "How many times must I say I don't understand your jests?" His tone was razor-sharp, slicing through the scorching air like a whip, his words laced with a growing sense of exasperation. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of bizarre dream.

Francis, seemingly impervious to Valbrand's growing annoyance and his sharp retort, chuckled and responded with a mischievous grin, "I do love hearing you talk; it's as if some great frozen beast is grumbling!" His words were laced with a playful malice, the tone light-hearted but calculated to needle Valbrand further.

Valbrand's face burned with embarrassment. Why did Francis have to be so infuriatingly cheerful? He felt like he was trapped in a never-ending cycle of misunderstandings and awkwardness. And yet...and yet...a part of him couldn't help but be charmed by Francis's irrepressible energy. It was as if the man was trying to infect Valbrand with his own enthusiasm, even when it was completely misplaced.

Valbrand's leather armor and worn clothes had been stripped from him, leaving him in the cold, hard light of reality. Francis had seen fit to bestow upon him an oversized white shirt, cobbled together from old sailcloth and rough-spun linen, which barely contained Valbrand's broad frame.

As he reluctantly donned the garish attire, his mind racing with suspicion, he couldn't help but notice the coarse texture of the fabric against his skin. The sailcloth was stiff and scratchy, like the bark of an ancient tree. He winced as the rough edges chafed against his chest, making him feel like a prisoner in his own skin.

"Uncomfortable and awkward," he thought to himself, his thoughts consumed by suspicion. It was almost as if Francis intended for these ill-fitting clothes to keep him from making a hasty exit a subtle reminder of his captivity.