Spirits: The Gatherers

Chapter 3: afloat

Alone, in the middle of the dark sea, drifts Owen and Trent on a sailboat. They were both wrapped in blankets from their backpacks and laying asleep on the deck of the boat. Owen opens his eyes slowly as he groans into a stretch. He yawns and gazes out into the open sea. The waters were calm and rocking the little boat gently, cradling it in its arms. He looked up to the sail, which is retracted. The wind was calm on his face and the scent of saltwater filled the air. Owen sat up and dug through his bag and pulled out a pencil and a sketchpad.

He opened the sketchpad and started to draw. With every stroke of his pencil, he felt relaxed. The worries of the world around him seemed to stop. He seemed to shut out the rest of the world and just focused on his drawing.

"A-are you drawing," Trent said awake from his sleep.

Owen got startled and closed the sketchbook. He stuffed it back in the backpack and zipped it closed.

"I didn't know you draw. How did u get a sketchbook all the way out here?" Trent said.

"I always carry it with me...it relaxes me...," Owen says.

"Well, no wonder you are so closed to everyone," Trent said.

"Closed...?" Owen asked.

"Man, you are really shy. Can I even call you my rival?" Trent laughed to himself.

Owen sighed and stared down at the bottom of the boat. Trent then slowed his laughing and sat next to him.

"Look...I think that it is amazing to have a hobby like that. All I had to do was just make fighting my hobby...," Trent said.

"Fighting?" Owen said as he looked at Trent.

"Yeah...my parents would always want me to train. I had to get my family's stupid contract spirit, after all...," Trent said.

"Is...that why you...," Owen said trailing off.

"...asked you to kill me...?" Trent said finishing his sentence. " Yes... I didn't want to take on this responsibility, because it felt like I threw my whole life away... what hobbies I wanted to have, what things I wanna do, and what people I want to stay with...it feels like I did this...only to please my parents..."

Owen sat and gazed out on the open water. He looked down at the waves crashing on the boat. It gently rocked the boat back and forth like a mother lulling her child to sleep.

"I...I didn't know...," Owen said.

Trent sighed.

"No...I should have reacted the way I did...I can never control myself...," Trent said.

The silence continued until the saw something on the horizon.

"What is that?" Owen asked.

"What if it's another ship," Trent said raising the sail.

"Maybe they know the way!" Owen said.

"I doubt they would tell us. Most people that sail these waters are pirates. If we have nothing to give them, they will surely kill us," Trent explained.

The wind caught the sail, but it wasn't enough to push them very fast. The ship in the distance began to draw closer to them. They could see at the top of the highest sail, a black flag.

"Pirates?" Owen asked.

"I am sure of it. Let's hope they didn't see us," Trent said.

The ship sailed closer. The waves it pushed out rocked the little sailboat as it came to a halt. The sailboat almost tipped over. A voice could be heard from the ship's deck.