Chapter 2: The Rescuing

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Edward slowly lolled in and out of sleep, time and existance eluding him. He felt as if he had smoked all the pot on the planet. There was a ringing in his eaes, or was it static? He couldn't decide. He slowly regained consciousness, and realized, no... It couldnt be, Edward started to notice that the static, was not static, but a natural white noise. He couldnt accept what he thought it was, surely it cant be... Edward thought to himself. But the more he listened to the noise the more obvious what it was. Rain. Rain was beating rhythmically on the body bag that he was in, wondering, was this a dream? It couldnt be. Edward closed his eyes and pretended to be dead as he heard voices close to him say, "Check the boy." Edward kept his face as relaxed as possible, careful not to make a sound. The man opened the bag, light flooding it. "Hes good." The man fumbled for the zipper, but before he could get it, the other man called him over, and said "look at the spectre before you." What had he meant by that? Who cares, Edward opened his eyes to see what he could see. All he could see at the moment was the dark gray of the clouds. "We havent much time." One of the men said. Edward looked as hard as he could before the hurried footsteps got back to the bag. Just before the man had gotten back to the bag, Edward saw the sharp tip of an evergreen, aswell as the wing portion, of a totem pole. Edward closed his eyes quickly. The man checked edward once more then closed the bag. As he zipped the bag up ot was if a sprll was put over him. He slowly fell back into his astral slumber.

He woke up in a straw bed, covered in wolf hide. Edward wasnt covered in wolf hide, the bed was. He rose as fast as he could, without straining every muscle in his body. He dizzily looked around his environment, be noticed that he was in a wooden room, with creaky, distressed floorboards. It took edward a minute before he realized that he was rocking back and fourth, the white noise in his ears was not from his tinatis, but from the unmistakable splash of waves. He was on a ship. Still feeling utterly stoned, he started walking forward. He felt a tickle on his hand, but when he looked down, his head felt like a vibrating caraca. He reoriented himself and tried once again much slower this time, and saw he was wearing a large wolf hide hooded cloak, a long sleeve shirt, and lace up leather boots with a flanel interior. He was quite chilly and put the hood of his cloak on and continued out. He pushed open a large steel-studded oak door, to an open space with many canvas hammocks, he continued up a rackety ladder centered in the middle of the hammocks, and then opened up a wooden grate trapdoor to a crowded deck, full of men in moveable clothing, working the deck. They werent pirates nor did they look dirty whatsoever, but still seemed a bit rough on the edges. He put his hands in his pockets, and took a deep breath, this was too much to handle. He started to go back to the room he was in, wiping tears from his eyes, when he noticed that he still had his dark greens in his pocket, along with his lighter. He felt a wave of salvation, as he took it out, removed a fag, and put it in his mouth. He lit it and took a big hit, shaking as he exhaled. He might aswell smoke it up here, he didn't want to stuff up the lower deck. He took deep hits, to make him as light headed as possible, offsetting the heavy feeling of his head at the moment. He then heard, along with everybody else, a loud roar from the upper deck, screamimg "Wheres our geust!" He looked to see who was talking, and saw a sight quite hard to look at. Not because it was ugly, but rather the exact opposite. The man yelling was so clean and composed, it would embarrass uncle will. The man, was wearing a leather tricorn hat, and sporting a long, black beard which offset his ridiculously green eyes. A long overcoat made of square knit canvas, and what had to be an entire box of vintage 70s shoulder pads, and an undershirt with large ruffles at the neck, chest and hands, and pinstripe trousers, which were very loose at the knee. Both his boots and belt had a buckle of gold with intricate black metal inlays. He looked more like a nautical philosopher than a pirate. Edward felt as though he needed a vip pass just to look at this man. He surveyed the crowd, and looked to each man. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, somehow more bright green than it was before, and took a gander at the deck once more. Edward turned around, trying to escape back to the underside of the deck. He then heard a sharp "You!" And turned around. The man was looking him dead in the eye, not sure if it was anger or excitement on his face. He walked down the deck, waved his hand in the air, signaling to the crew to go underside, which they did. By the time he was close to edward the whole crew had evacuated to the lower deck. As he got closer, he walked slower, looking at edward as if he was a long lost son. He stick out his hand for a shake, saying, "How are ye boy?". "Good," edward said lost for words, shaking his mighty hand. Edward wasn't quite sure how to deal with this situation. The man noticed and said "Ye probably want answers dont ye?" He said in a thick irish accent. "Might be helpfull," edward said in a nervous laugh. "My name is Sir Francis Edward Plato Drake." He said, raising the right side of his lip in a grin. "My name is-" but before edward could finish his sentece, Francis said "Edward Mortemor" he said, suppressing a smile. Edward stood, curious as to how he knew his name. "Well you must be curious as to where we are going eh?" He said. "We are going to Nafen, derived from the Höf word nebelhöfn, meaning fog           "I know your name yes, and i know Will aswell." Said Francis. "How do you know him?" Edward said, confused still. "Well thats easy," he said, still looking like he was supressing a smile, "We are brothers," he didn't look like he could hold his smile much longer, "and your my nephew." (Fill with more conversation before the big reveal). At this, edward pleaded a moment, and pulled his pack of cigarettes out again and pulled one out, lighting it, taking a hit and finishing with a, "Are you?". Francis broke out into laughter, leaning on his knees and lunging for edward, hugging him tightly. "How are yeh sonny!" Cracking up and firmly patting edwards back. Edward had no idea what was going on, and didn't know how to handle it. Francis pulled away, edwards eyes wider than a jew caught eating bacon. Francis saw this and waved him off and leaned on the deck railing, smiling profusely. "You got a spare fag?" Asked francis. "Yeah, sure," said edward pulling his pack out once more, giving him one of the few left in the pack. He gave the cigarette to him, and offered him the lighter, but he rufused. He instead made his hand flat and gracefully made a loose fist, a flame jumping out, from inbetween his forefinger and thumb, lighting instantly and hotly. "Your a magician?" Edward asked, the only possible explaination to what he had seen. "Kinda, but what you saw there was no gimmick or slight of hand." Edward stood there, quite unsure how to respond. "Watch." Francis said, a light in his eye. He rolled up his sleeve and held a heavily ringed hand out. He slowly put his fingers together, and as they grew nearer, a light suddenly shone, floating just above his palm. His fingers got closer and closer, the light getting brighter and opaque. Flames then erupted from the now white light in his hand, he just as slowly withdrew his fingers and the flame burned out. Edward stood there in awe, his brain trying desperately to find an answer to what he just saw. Francis grinned and said, "You'll learn it soon enough." He said. "Soon enough." Edward finished his cigarette, dipped it into a puddle on the railing and put it into a small bag and pocketed it. "You might want to get some rest." Francis said. Edward didn't realise until now how much time had passed, it was at least 7:30, judging by the look of the sky. The sunset was beautiful. Not many kids in Arizona had the luxury of a sunset this spectacular. Although it might be pretty, you didn't get such deep purple and blues, like you do in the northern hemisphere. The clouds were coruscating all around the sun, just peeking out of the ocean. "Oh, and, here," Francis took a small wooden chest out of his jacket, and opened it to a large sandwich. "Thought you might be hungry." Giving him the sandwich. "Thank you so much," edward replied. It was his favorite sandwich, black forest ham, extremely sharp irish cheddar cheese, swiss cheese, and liverwurst, mayonnaise and brown mustard covering the 9 grain seed bread. Edward couldn't stand white bread. He ate it quite quickly, and despite its size still made him seem full. He looked back up to Francis and saw a can of unsweetened green tea with ginsing. "Your reading my fucking mind." Edward said appreciatively. Laughing at this, francis said, "Well, i don't mind you staying up if that's what you want to do, just dont stay up till 3." "Yeah sure." Edward stayed on the deck for a while, watching the sun go down, until it was dark enough that he couldn't see anything past 10 feet in front of him. He went back to the small room he had been in, and went back to sleep.

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