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All right, I’ve added 541 words to this part of my story, making it my prompt post. :x I hope that’s all right. In the end, didn’t I write over 500 words for the prompt? They’re just not all together, really.
To read the original, it is at my FictionPress account, here, under the title The Secret Road. (Why is it in bold? *head scratch*)
BTW, I like the new look of the comm. :D
Title: The Secret Road
Fandom: Original/Exalted
Prompt: 108 Dead at the Wheel
Warnings: none?
Rating: G
Summary: Sari and crew have just survived through a massive storm, now they make repairs and look for their missing sister ship.
Nearly an hour later Fierce Sea appeared in the doorway, sweat pouring from his brow. “Sail ho,” he said, breathlessly. He leaned on the doorframe, holding a hand to a stitch in his side.
The men neatly pulled in the ores and latched the portholes as Sari left the room, sweat pouring off her own brow. Really, they had to get more air in that chamber. Red Crest had appeared at her side and walked with her up the ladder above decks. Still a bit away, the Regicide limped in the water.
Afterwards, Sari sent her men to the sails, returning to the job that had to be completed with utmost haste. She pulled the spyglass to her eye and found the other ship through the small plane of glass. They had come close enough that she could make out the man at the helm and she smiled as she discovered it to be Serik himself.
Not that she had doubted him, after all, she herself had stood at her wheel during the horrific storm.
She lowered the glass and turned to inspect the men of her crew. They were tired, but she couldn’t let them rest just yet. There was too much to be done. Besides, they could rest when they docked, and hopefully that would be soon.
She went to her cabin and pulled out the rolled up map of the region. As she passed the cabinet, she took from it a decanter, but left the glass goblet. At her desk, which was little more than a wide table nailed down in the center of the room, she pushed off the things that had remained during the storm and unrolled the aged parchment. She put the decanter of port on one corner, a figurine at another, a broken spear head at another, and her fist at the last. If her measurements were correct, and she was as sure as the sun they were, they would reach an island soon enough. She tapped the island, smirking as she remembered their last visit to the island, nearly a year ago. The crew had had fun, and would, no doubt have fun again.
Leaving the map where it was, she pulled the stopper on the port and took a swift gulp before returning topside. At the helm, she passed off the port to Gene and saluted him. He grinned his thanks and drank deeply, knowing she wasn‘t about to let him to his bed. She easily climbed the ratlines and joined her crew in repairing cut ties. She wiped at her brow as the heat of the day returned and left the air heavy and oppressing. She spotted Fierce Sea as he dropped his knife and nearly followed it in an attempt to catch it. Hissing, she sent him to his hammock and took over the job she’d set him, knitting a torn line and watching the other ship, steadily coming closer with each rock of the bow.
It looked bad, but nothing too difficult to sail with, she though with a frown. But then again, Serik didn’t have essence to call upon to help him. How much more difficult would it be for the human? The ship limped toward them and presented them with its sorry face.
None of the sails were up, and the flying jib boom was snapped in half, dangling with the tip dipping in the ocean with each rise and fall of the ship. Crew scuttled about, but there was an air of despair over the ship.
When the other ship sighted the Green Tear a cheer went up and they all rushed to their starboard side and welcomed them. Her own crew leaned on the rail, responding candidly and surveying the destruction.
Ropes were brought out to tie the two ships together and Sari put up a silent prayer that the waters would stay calm and not rip them apart. She set her men to helping the Regicide’s crew as she turned smiling eyes to Serik from her own ship. She yelled, “You look dead at the wheel, mate.”
Serik returned her smile with a tired one of his own. His eyes were surrounded by heavy black and blue bags and his cheeks seemed hollowed out. His clothing was soaked still and his hair more of a wild nest than ever. “How is it you can have so much energy after that storm? It lasted for ages.”
She laughed, leaning on a ratline still, hooked by the elbow, “What can I say, I have the sea in my blood.”
“Well, in any event, it is glad I am that the storm didn’t take you with it.”
“As if it could. You didn’t fare so well.”
He looked up at the mast where the foretopsail yard had cracked and the white wood of the interior nearly glowed in the sunlight. “No, we didn’t. Luckily, we have supplies and experienced hands. We’ll get back up in no time.”
Sari nodded, eyeing the clear blue water off the side of the ship. “Hopefully we won’t draw any attention, just laying here.” Then her eyes went to the horizon and she grinned. “But that may not be such a bad thing.” She nodded her chin at him, “Well, I’ll not waylay you any longer.”
To read the original, it is at my FictionPress account, here, under the title The Secret Road. (Why is it in bold? *head scratch*)
BTW, I like the new look of the comm. :D
Title: The Secret Road
Fandom: Original/Exalted
Prompt: 108 Dead at the Wheel
Warnings: none?
Rating: G
Summary: Sari and crew have just survived through a massive storm, now they make repairs and look for their missing sister ship.
Nearly an hour later Fierce Sea appeared in the doorway, sweat pouring from his brow. “Sail ho,” he said, breathlessly. He leaned on the doorframe, holding a hand to a stitch in his side.
The men neatly pulled in the ores and latched the portholes as Sari left the room, sweat pouring off her own brow. Really, they had to get more air in that chamber. Red Crest had appeared at her side and walked with her up the ladder above decks. Still a bit away, the Regicide limped in the water.
Afterwards, Sari sent her men to the sails, returning to the job that had to be completed with utmost haste. She pulled the spyglass to her eye and found the other ship through the small plane of glass. They had come close enough that she could make out the man at the helm and she smiled as she discovered it to be Serik himself.
Not that she had doubted him, after all, she herself had stood at her wheel during the horrific storm.
She lowered the glass and turned to inspect the men of her crew. They were tired, but she couldn’t let them rest just yet. There was too much to be done. Besides, they could rest when they docked, and hopefully that would be soon.
She went to her cabin and pulled out the rolled up map of the region. As she passed the cabinet, she took from it a decanter, but left the glass goblet. At her desk, which was little more than a wide table nailed down in the center of the room, she pushed off the things that had remained during the storm and unrolled the aged parchment. She put the decanter of port on one corner, a figurine at another, a broken spear head at another, and her fist at the last. If her measurements were correct, and she was as sure as the sun they were, they would reach an island soon enough. She tapped the island, smirking as she remembered their last visit to the island, nearly a year ago. The crew had had fun, and would, no doubt have fun again.
Leaving the map where it was, she pulled the stopper on the port and took a swift gulp before returning topside. At the helm, she passed off the port to Gene and saluted him. He grinned his thanks and drank deeply, knowing she wasn‘t about to let him to his bed. She easily climbed the ratlines and joined her crew in repairing cut ties. She wiped at her brow as the heat of the day returned and left the air heavy and oppressing. She spotted Fierce Sea as he dropped his knife and nearly followed it in an attempt to catch it. Hissing, she sent him to his hammock and took over the job she’d set him, knitting a torn line and watching the other ship, steadily coming closer with each rock of the bow.
It looked bad, but nothing too difficult to sail with, she though with a frown. But then again, Serik didn’t have essence to call upon to help him. How much more difficult would it be for the human? The ship limped toward them and presented them with its sorry face.
None of the sails were up, and the flying jib boom was snapped in half, dangling with the tip dipping in the ocean with each rise and fall of the ship. Crew scuttled about, but there was an air of despair over the ship.
When the other ship sighted the Green Tear a cheer went up and they all rushed to their starboard side and welcomed them. Her own crew leaned on the rail, responding candidly and surveying the destruction.
Ropes were brought out to tie the two ships together and Sari put up a silent prayer that the waters would stay calm and not rip them apart. She set her men to helping the Regicide’s crew as she turned smiling eyes to Serik from her own ship. She yelled, “You look dead at the wheel, mate.”
Serik returned her smile with a tired one of his own. His eyes were surrounded by heavy black and blue bags and his cheeks seemed hollowed out. His clothing was soaked still and his hair more of a wild nest than ever. “How is it you can have so much energy after that storm? It lasted for ages.”
She laughed, leaning on a ratline still, hooked by the elbow, “What can I say, I have the sea in my blood.”
“Well, in any event, it is glad I am that the storm didn’t take you with it.”
“As if it could. You didn’t fare so well.”
He looked up at the mast where the foretopsail yard had cracked and the white wood of the interior nearly glowed in the sunlight. “No, we didn’t. Luckily, we have supplies and experienced hands. We’ll get back up in no time.”
Sari nodded, eyeing the clear blue water off the side of the ship. “Hopefully we won’t draw any attention, just laying here.” Then her eyes went to the horizon and she grinned. “But that may not be such a bad thing.” She nodded her chin at him, “Well, I’ll not waylay you any longer.”