03-30-2010, 02:48 AM
Sinking Memories.
In the night the sea raged. Out there in the open a ship baptized as St Catherine was sinking. The God of sea had turned a once valiant crew into a pack of beasts fighting for the final spot on a life boat. It was unsightly. Former friends gutting each other as if they were life long enemies. Among them was Taonga plunging a harpoon to pierce through his captain. As if gods themselves had not liked what they sow. A sudden wave swiped the ship, crashing that only life boat and drowning everyone boarding it into sea. Taonga gasped for air as he tried to cling onto a still floating rubble from the wreckage, desperately struggling to stay on the surface. He couldn't have cared less what happened to the others. From between the storming waves, he could see light twinkling in the horizon but it was up to fate, not his strengths, whether or not he could make it there. Nonetheless, the instinct to survive told Taonga to keep kicking water till the moment he passed out.
Dreaming. It was the day he met the Captain. Taonga, a lively 14 year old boy, itching to become part of a crew. It had been his dearest dream, ever since his father first told him about the life of sailing. There weren't many other candidate besides him and his three friends who he had practically dragged along, though they were still just as eager to join the adventure. Each of them got approved by the captain, naturally since he was a good man who wanted to let youngsters have the time of their lives. Although he had never met them before, the captain was so nice to the boys that he might as well have been their father. Not only the captain but the crew also accepted them right off the bat.
Taonga awoke back into the night. Cold sea had already stolen him the ability to feel anything from waist down. His mind was just as numb from both the cold and from regret of what he had done. Ahead in the horizon the lights of Meduli could as well have been the flames of hell to welcome a sinner like him in afterlife. The life boat was gone, everyone would have died regardless. Why couldn't we just die with honor...
Another shard of memories. They were from the last fall, a season best suited for hunting something much bigger than your average tuna. Taonga had boarded the ships life boat with five other crewmen one of which was one of the best spear fishermen in all the western seas. The ship was anchored to a reef notorious for its deadly shallows and large sea seprents inhabiting those waters. Being a reckless fool he was, Taonga, armed with but a harpoon, was first to dive in hopes of luring the serpent out. He couldn't remember what happened underwater that day. The next memory after jumping into water he had is of him lying on the floor of St. Catherine getting serpent teeth pulled out of his leg. Captain had managed to spear the snake in a nick of time before it could drag Taonga into the depths.
He regained consciousness as the waves washed him to the shore. Hands shaking from the cold, Taonga tried to slowly drag himself towards the distant lights. He could not care less nor remember that there were not only highwaymen but also terrorbirds to watch out, the only thing he wished for was that captain would once again come rescue him. Captain who had taught him to sail, fight and fish. Captain who had given him a home, friends and love. Captain who shared an experience of a life time. The captain who he had just killed for what? A place on a squeaky life boat destined to sink with its mother ship. Taonga had always thought of himself as a man of honor, different from barbarians residing in mainlands. Certainly not someone who would resort to killing people he held dearest when it was the only way to save ones own life but someone who would instead gladly throw it away if it was for a friend. With great effort, he reached the end of sandy beach, the frontier of dried grasslands spreading far, much further than Taonga could see in the darkness. Still panting, he collapsed on a largeish grassy tuft to rest for a moment before continuing the seemingly impossible quest towards the lights. “Just for a moment,” he thought as his mind faded back into slumber.
This time Taonga had no idea where he was. A large round table, apparently wooden, was standing alone in middle of an equally round even spherical space. There was no direct source of light but one could see around just fine to notice there wasn't anything worth seeing beside white walls and the table. Deciding the table was something interesting, Taonga went over to give it a closer look. Only when he was so near he could touch the table if he wanted, did he notice a man sitting behind it. Taonga was sitting there with him, leisurely sipping tea with his captain. As to not startle Taonga, the man began with a giddy tone,
“Tell me kid, has today been good to you?”
“Yeah, though it was one hell of a swim getting to dry land.”
“Pffft! One hell of a swim eh? You slept the whole time.”
“Did not!”
“Yeah yeah whatever you say kiddo. Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you: why did you kill me?”
Captain pointed at the harpoon sticking from his abdomen. Awkward silence ensued...
“Oh. Well, you see that was kinda an accident in a way. I didn't really... ”
“Mean to pierce me with a friggin fishin' harpoon? Yes you did my son. Yes you did kill me in cold blood. But lets not ponder on the events themselves. For me the reason is much more important.”
“I... You were trying to kill me. I just defended myself!”
“Hah! Nonsense! Me trying to kill you? You whom I consider as my own son. Come on I know you are a better liar than this. Give me another shot!”
“It was so confusing! Everyone yelling and killing. I didn't know what to think and might have accidentally slipped...”
“Quite good. Quite good. A bit of a cliché maybe but still a good excuse. I might even believe this one if I didn't know better. Don't you remember that look you had on when you struck that harpoon into me? I certainly do. Oh believe me I DO. You were smiling like a mad man who just got out of the prison. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it! Now tell me! Why did you kill me, hmm?”
“Shut up you're just a ghost! I'm sick of your accusations! What comes to the reason as to why, I haven't got the faintest idea myself but you seem to know so you tell me!”
Not the best choice of words.
Banished from his dreams, Taonga opened his eyes into the reality to see a face of a huergarian boy, several years younger than himself. “Come quickly master, he is alive!” screamed the small face. An old, apparently female, sidoian face suddenly popped from somewhere. She was fussing about how dangerous it is outside Meduli at this hour. “You never know who might be lurking around there,” she said as she brought some sort of warm soup for Taonga to drink. He tried to concentrate, to focus on where he was and what was going on. An oil lamp in the ceiling, lots of dusty, wooden furniture, a pottery oven and lots of broken clay vases on the floor. Oh yes. This was indeed reality. The young face opened his mouth to speak again, though this time with a more controlled pitch, “Are you alright? You're dumb as hell to be strolling outside in that weather. Anyway, I'm called Pooler. Who are you”
In the night the sea raged. Out there in the open a ship baptized as St Catherine was sinking. The God of sea had turned a once valiant crew into a pack of beasts fighting for the final spot on a life boat. It was unsightly. Former friends gutting each other as if they were life long enemies. Among them was Taonga plunging a harpoon to pierce through his captain. As if gods themselves had not liked what they sow. A sudden wave swiped the ship, crashing that only life boat and drowning everyone boarding it into sea. Taonga gasped for air as he tried to cling onto a still floating rubble from the wreckage, desperately struggling to stay on the surface. He couldn't have cared less what happened to the others. From between the storming waves, he could see light twinkling in the horizon but it was up to fate, not his strengths, whether or not he could make it there. Nonetheless, the instinct to survive told Taonga to keep kicking water till the moment he passed out.
Dreaming. It was the day he met the Captain. Taonga, a lively 14 year old boy, itching to become part of a crew. It had been his dearest dream, ever since his father first told him about the life of sailing. There weren't many other candidate besides him and his three friends who he had practically dragged along, though they were still just as eager to join the adventure. Each of them got approved by the captain, naturally since he was a good man who wanted to let youngsters have the time of their lives. Although he had never met them before, the captain was so nice to the boys that he might as well have been their father. Not only the captain but the crew also accepted them right off the bat.
Taonga awoke back into the night. Cold sea had already stolen him the ability to feel anything from waist down. His mind was just as numb from both the cold and from regret of what he had done. Ahead in the horizon the lights of Meduli could as well have been the flames of hell to welcome a sinner like him in afterlife. The life boat was gone, everyone would have died regardless. Why couldn't we just die with honor...
Another shard of memories. They were from the last fall, a season best suited for hunting something much bigger than your average tuna. Taonga had boarded the ships life boat with five other crewmen one of which was one of the best spear fishermen in all the western seas. The ship was anchored to a reef notorious for its deadly shallows and large sea seprents inhabiting those waters. Being a reckless fool he was, Taonga, armed with but a harpoon, was first to dive in hopes of luring the serpent out. He couldn't remember what happened underwater that day. The next memory after jumping into water he had is of him lying on the floor of St. Catherine getting serpent teeth pulled out of his leg. Captain had managed to spear the snake in a nick of time before it could drag Taonga into the depths.
He regained consciousness as the waves washed him to the shore. Hands shaking from the cold, Taonga tried to slowly drag himself towards the distant lights. He could not care less nor remember that there were not only highwaymen but also terrorbirds to watch out, the only thing he wished for was that captain would once again come rescue him. Captain who had taught him to sail, fight and fish. Captain who had given him a home, friends and love. Captain who shared an experience of a life time. The captain who he had just killed for what? A place on a squeaky life boat destined to sink with its mother ship. Taonga had always thought of himself as a man of honor, different from barbarians residing in mainlands. Certainly not someone who would resort to killing people he held dearest when it was the only way to save ones own life but someone who would instead gladly throw it away if it was for a friend. With great effort, he reached the end of sandy beach, the frontier of dried grasslands spreading far, much further than Taonga could see in the darkness. Still panting, he collapsed on a largeish grassy tuft to rest for a moment before continuing the seemingly impossible quest towards the lights. “Just for a moment,” he thought as his mind faded back into slumber.
This time Taonga had no idea where he was. A large round table, apparently wooden, was standing alone in middle of an equally round even spherical space. There was no direct source of light but one could see around just fine to notice there wasn't anything worth seeing beside white walls and the table. Deciding the table was something interesting, Taonga went over to give it a closer look. Only when he was so near he could touch the table if he wanted, did he notice a man sitting behind it. Taonga was sitting there with him, leisurely sipping tea with his captain. As to not startle Taonga, the man began with a giddy tone,
“Tell me kid, has today been good to you?”
“Yeah, though it was one hell of a swim getting to dry land.”
“Pffft! One hell of a swim eh? You slept the whole time.”
“Did not!”
“Yeah yeah whatever you say kiddo. Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you: why did you kill me?”
Captain pointed at the harpoon sticking from his abdomen. Awkward silence ensued...
“Oh. Well, you see that was kinda an accident in a way. I didn't really... ”
“Mean to pierce me with a friggin fishin' harpoon? Yes you did my son. Yes you did kill me in cold blood. But lets not ponder on the events themselves. For me the reason is much more important.”
“I... You were trying to kill me. I just defended myself!”
“Hah! Nonsense! Me trying to kill you? You whom I consider as my own son. Come on I know you are a better liar than this. Give me another shot!”
“It was so confusing! Everyone yelling and killing. I didn't know what to think and might have accidentally slipped...”
“Quite good. Quite good. A bit of a cliché maybe but still a good excuse. I might even believe this one if I didn't know better. Don't you remember that look you had on when you struck that harpoon into me? I certainly do. Oh believe me I DO. You were smiling like a mad man who just got out of the prison. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it! Now tell me! Why did you kill me, hmm?”
“Shut up you're just a ghost! I'm sick of your accusations! What comes to the reason as to why, I haven't got the faintest idea myself but you seem to know so you tell me!”
Not the best choice of words.
Banished from his dreams, Taonga opened his eyes into the reality to see a face of a huergarian boy, several years younger than himself. “Come quickly master, he is alive!” screamed the small face. An old, apparently female, sidoian face suddenly popped from somewhere. She was fussing about how dangerous it is outside Meduli at this hour. “You never know who might be lurking around there,” she said as she brought some sort of warm soup for Taonga to drink. He tried to concentrate, to focus on where he was and what was going on. An oil lamp in the ceiling, lots of dusty, wooden furniture, a pottery oven and lots of broken clay vases on the floor. Oh yes. This was indeed reality. The young face opened his mouth to speak again, though this time with a more controlled pitch, “Are you alright? You're dumb as hell to be strolling outside in that weather. Anyway, I'm called Pooler. Who are you”
Quote:
Afterrant: Deiced to go with something little more confusing than what I had originally planned. I made sure to leave lots of open threads in it so that it can easily be tied to whatever needed. Also introduced my to be alt (Pooler) in the end.