EARTH
Madrik woke up. He didn't like waking up. And he certainly didn't like waking up in the middle of the desert, bleeding into the sand.
"Godsdammit," he grunted. "Not again."
He stood up, barely noticing the girl laying next to him in the puddle of blood, several wounds across her body. No, he was more concerned about the wounds on his body.
"Where are you?" he shouted. "Bloody hell, I am not having it. Not this time. Show yourself."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" asked Talyreina, attempting to get up herself. "My head hurts. What did we drink last night?"
"Look around you, Tally," he barked. "We're in the middle of the desert. How many times has a big night landed you in the middle of the bloody desert?"
"Alright, calm down," she said, scanning their surroundings. "I grew up in Rhytheport, remember. So to answer your question, I have woken up in the desert with a hangover more times than I can remember."
"And how many of those times had you also been ripped to shreds by some savage creature?"
Talyreina looked over her wounds and shrugged.
"Right, well this particular one is going to have you riding on the back of an invisible dog by noon."
She glared at him, uncomprehending.
"It's a long story," he added.
Madrik searched around for any sign of their former captors – the bastards that had left them out there. He checked his pocket, and found a note neatly rolled up.
"Sorry to do this to you," he read out aloud, "but you really were in the way. I hope you understand that you two are in fact the least important people in my grand designs. It's nothing personal – a concept I am sure you are familiar with in your line of work. I do hope you enjoy your time in the desert; especially given that you have remarkably better company on this occasion. Regardless, I'm sure you know the way back home by now, so I expect to be seeing you soon."
Madrik dropped the note onto the drifting dust.
"That slimy servant bastard. I will kill him. I will kill him, and his boss. Arynlock will die. Tailfin will die. They will all die."
"Okay," said Talyreina, "calm down."
"I am bloody calm!" he roared.
"What's that?" asked Talyreina.
"What's what?"
"That barking. Can't you hear it?"
"Godsdammit," he said, hanging his head, then turned to shout for help. "Abbikson! Lytette!"
"What?"
He turned around again. As if out of nowhere, there was someone standing right behind him. Someone with tattered clothing, and very little at that.
"Lytette? Are you real?"
"Madrik? What are you doing back here?"
Madrik smiled, hoping he wasn't talking to an illusion.
"I am just planning my revenge."
* * *
WIND
"Lytette?"
Abbikson spun around, searching for the demon-goddess.
"Lytette?" he called out louder.
"Where did she go?" asked Ryleine.
He knew the answer, but he didn't want to believe it. After so many years of waiting for him...
"She has gone to buy us enough time to escape."
"Escape?"
"The Three are close behind. She has gone to confront them, to make sure that we can get away, back to Helen's Bay."
"Well then... let's go."
"No," he said, eyes fixed on the desert. "You go. I cannot leave her here to fight for me. To die for me. You go without me. Go now."
"No, we—"
"Just go!"
Abbikson began jogging towards the desert even as the heat of the morning sun began to strengthen on his back. The soft dry sand made running difficult, but he had no choice, no other way to catch up with Lytette. He had barely made it a hundred yards before he heard her calling him.
"Abe! Come back here, you old fool."
He turned around to see Lytette standing at the edge of the village. He ran back to her, slightly confused.
"What are you doing... there?"
"I was waiting to see you leave safely before I went after The Three. And I was trying to avoid an awkward goodbye."
"I'm not leaving you to fight them off alone."
Lytette smiled, remaining silent for a long while as she held his gaze. He could feel the reluctance as she turned away.
"Any of you three able to sail a ship?"
Kyrnrie and Ryleine shook their heads conclusively. Irikhart was more optimistic about his qualifications.
"I've seen others sailing ships," he remarked casually, as if that was more than enough.
Lytette looked back at Abbikson as she shrugged, gesturing towards the unlikely crew. She had a pained expression on her face, worse than he'd ever seen.
"I could kiss you right now," she said. "But I wouldn't want to traumatise you before your voyage. You better board that ship before I change my mind!"
Abbikson hesitated while Irikhart, blind to the situation, interjected his own opinion.
"We're running out of time, Abe," said the god of fools. "Let's go."
"Abbikson," he said.
"What?"
"My name is Abbikson."
"That's what I said."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"Aargh, forget it," he said, shaking his head, as the moment passed. "Lytette... thank you."
He ran towards the ship; the god, the thief, and the huntress close behind. He climbed aboard and began shouting orders, preparing the ship for sailing. Fortunately, the guardians had kept it ready for a rapid departure so there was little for them to do, and they were able to cast off quickly, heading out to sea.
Abbikson looked back towards the land, searching for Lytette. She stood on the shore at the edge of the abandoned town, waving her goodbyes. A dust storm rose from nowhere, swallowing her in the darkness before striking the sails with immense force, pushing the ship out of the bay at incredible speed.
Even as the dust swirled in the rigging, Abbikson could hear her voice on the wind.
"Goodbye, Lytette," he murmured back.
* * *
WATER
Gerylde stood on the shore, staring at the various planks loosely fastened together. They formed a strangely familiar pattern.
"Four green coins, Mr Tailfin. Nothing less."
"But that's twice the price I paid last time, and this boat barely floats!"
The merchant was a skilled negotiator. Gerylde was thankful he wasn't the one who needed to barter with him, or pay for the product.
"Supply and demand, my good sir," explained the shipwright. "I have low supply, and you are being very demanding."
"Shouldn't I get a loyalty discount? This is my second purchase in only a few weeks."
"I certainly value return customers, Mr Tailfin. I tell you what. I will knock a quarter off your third purchase. How does that sound?"
"I will knock three quarters of your leg off if you don't start being reasonable!"
Gerylde blocked out the aggressive negotiations behind him as he studied the vessel. He had never been on a boat, of course, but he had heard of them. He may have lived in the forest for all his life, but even as a hermit he had met others that spoke of the sea. He had met someone many years ago that had lost his daughter in a storm – tragic really.
"Alright, all aboard," said Tailfin. "Let's get seaborne before I lose my temper and dismember this merchant thief."
Gerylde wasted no time in avoiding the conflict. He clambered aboard, and loosely held onto the rigging as he rushed towards the stern, confident on deck despite the waves rocking the boat.
"This should be a quick trip," said Tailfin. "The Whalebreaker current will more or less take us straight there. Gerylde, why don't you... okay, you take the tiller."
Gerylde was already holding onto it, swinging out the rudder to steer into the current.
"And you," he said, pointing to The Scribe, "well, I guess you can write this all down."
The Scribe nodded casually as he withdrew a sheet of parchment, and Tailfin came to sit next to Gerylde.
"You seem to know what you're doing, old man."
"It's easy enough, I think," said the hermit. "Just need to get a feel for it."
Tailfin watched him with a curious expression, then gazed off to the storm clouds.
"Think you can handle that?"
The lightning flashed, and it was quickly followed by a deep rumbling that shook the boat, the rigging creaking as the woodwork struggled in the growing swells. Gerylde searched the boat for any weak points, anything he should know when navigating through the wild seas.
"Where are we going, exactly?" he shouted over the hiss of heavy rain on the ocean.
"Helen's Bay!" said Tailfin. "We need to get to Arynlock, assuming she is still alive."
"Arynlock?"
"Yes, she needs the coins to find the mainland," he yelled. "Do you remember the mainland?"
The vessel crashed over a massive wave, water spraying over the deck and covering the already drenched sailors.
"The mainland?"
It sounded familiar to Gerylde. Very familiar. He looked at his hand as it clenched the tiller, naturally guiding the ship through the storm. His eyes were pulled away by the appearance of an apparition on the foredeck – a woman, standing freely, staring back at him. He recognised her from somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, but he couldn't find a name for her face.
"What is it, old man?" shouted Tailfin over of the clamour of the storm.
He barely heard the voice beside him, his concentration fixed on the woman on deck. The boat crashed over the next swell and dropped deep into the trough just as the following wave collided, sending a surge of water rushing over the deck. The woman was washed overboard right before his eyes.
"No!" he shouted, rushing to the side of the ship, searching the churning seas.
"What are you doing?" called Tailfin.
"Can you see her? Where is she?"
"Who? Who are looking for?"
"Her... my... my daughter."
"There is no one there, old man. She wasn't with us!"
Tailfin clung onto Gerylde's arm, his eyes imploring him to return to the tiller.
"She wasn't with us," he repeated. "She wasn't on the boat."
Gerylde glanced at the waves again, searching for something. What was he looking for?
"Please, come back. You need to steer the boat!"
Tailfin was clinging to the rigging with one arm as he struggled to keep his balance, trying to pull Gerylde away with the other. Reluctantly, he followed Tailfin back to the stern and took hold of the tiller. He felt a little confused as he held it.
"But," he protested, "I don't know how to sail."
The Sevens' Tale continues in Seven Sevens part 2 >>>