A Game Of Swans

Chpt 13 - Ripples of The Past

It had been decided that our trip to the Cocos 'Keeling' Islands would take us about 7 weeks, which was a time frame that all of us were anxious about. Nevertheless, there was nothing that could be done about it, so complaining was a waste of effort and time.

Our course was set, and we were on our way. The Islands were located in the Indian Ocean, west of the Greater Sunda Islands, and about 15 degrees south-west of Singapore - they were, apparently, quite easy to miss, so we were all taking navigation quite seriously. For me, this meant that Carrie was a huge asset as she was likely one of the best navigators I had ever come across.

It had been three weeks since we'd left Funchal, and I was not sorry to see it go. No matter how beautiful it might have been, that old priest from the church had ruined it for me.

On top of that, he had also ruined my sleep. Ever since we'd left, I had been having the same nightmare over and over again every couple of nights, a nightmare that I'd thought I'd put behind me and left in the past.

Apparently not.

The lack of sleep was starting to show and it had made me snappy and tetchy with everyone, to the point where Carrie was the only person in the crew who talked to me because the others were likely scared that they might say something that I didn't like and push me over the edge. To be fair to them, though, I had accidentally pulled out my pistol on one member because they startled me while I was lost in thought. The poor guy still hadn't recovered from that.

It was so noticeable that Francis, Antonio, and Arthur noticed it on our second meeting two weeks in, although I had left before they could question me about it. I did the same again on our third meeting three weeks in to our journey, which had happened yesterday.

I couldn't tell if I wanted to be alone or not. I thought I did, but then I would feel inescapably lonely, left with my memories. But then when I was around others, I felt suffocated, like they would all ask me questions that I didn't want to answer. Or I'd feel Arthur's stare as he tried to figure out what was wrong from afar.

I stood on the forecastle deck of The Reaper, looking vacantly out at the ocean in front of me. It was the first time in the past three weeks that my mind wasn't consumed with thoughts or memories. It was blissfully blank, and I wanted it to last for as long as possible while I tried to figure out how to re-repress all of the emotions and memories that had been dragged up in our visit to Funchal. This blankness, however, meant that I was very acutely aware of how exhausted I was.

Closing my eyes, I drew my focus to the feeling of the breeze on my skin and the sun on my face. My coat was in my Quarters, so I was left wearing a thin, white cotton shirt and a black waistcoat with my pocketwatch in it. Not having my coat on allowed me to feel the wind and the warmth of the sun better. I focused on taking deep breaths, trying ever so hard to maintain that nothingness in my mind. I was, in truth, in desperate need of long nap.

"Mind if I join you?"

I jumped at the voice, my eyes opening as my head snapped around, a scowl on my face at being interrupted. I was mildly surprised to see Arthur stand a few paces behind me, and my scowl softened of its own volition upon seeing him.

"Arthur," I sighed heavily. I managed a tired smile. "You really must stop sneaking up on me, Eyebrows. I'll be no good to you if I die of cardiac arrest."

He didn't smile back. His eyebrows were furrowed and he watched me with concern. He didn't even flinch or twitch when I called him eyebrows, which was the major cue that told me that he was in a serious mood.

I met his eyes for a moment, before I felt that familiar feeling of being overwhelmed, and then I turned away and looked at the sea again.

Arthur moved to stand next to me, his arm brushing against mine.