1 Off the Boat

Alex woke up in a cold sweat with tears rolling down his face. He rolled out of his small cot and stumbled to the faucet breathing heavily. He must have had the same nightmare. Alex swore something was torturing him every night with the memories. He turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cool water and took a rag and wiped his face down being careful around the eye patch.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his chestnut brown hair complimented his green eye, but the eye patch on his left did little to make him look friendlier. He also looked horribly sleep deprived with bags hanging off his eyes, but who'd blame him. He touched a scar on the side of his chin remembering how he got it.

Alex stood quietly in front of the running faucet lost in thought when he heard someone knock on the door. "Coming!" Alex turned off the faucet and stepped over his bag. He cracked the door and covered his eyes as the sun momentarily blinded him. Sounds of sea birds and water filled the room giving his already rocking room a weird feel.

It was Captain Phillips, a taller man with a rough cut and a well trimmed beard. He was captain of the Yankee, a small passenger boat the army had commandeered to take soldiers back North. "Hey kid you got-," he looked down at Alex's body and stopped mid sentence. Alex, embarrassed, closed the door more to hide his body, "What do you need Captain?" He began again, "Breakfast is ready and we dock today. Get your stuff together and head on to the front."

Alex nodded and closed the door quickly. He looked in the mirror and studied his body shamefully. Scars covered the majority of his chest and stomach. The scene was similar to his back, but his back was worse than the front. He covered the scars with a white shirt and packed up his bag. He donned his military fatigues, a black overcoat with ribbons and medals, and made his way out of the cabin impatiently ready to leave the tight confines of the ship.

He covered his eyes as the sounds of the ocean and sun invaded his room again. Alex didn't particularly hate being on the open sea, but he also didn't like being stuck on it for more than a week. Two soldiers walked by talking, "You hear about that tournament? The war is just over and the king is wanting to get the city back to living normally again. Oh!" "I can't see the reasoning behind it. After sending all his subjects to war you'd think he was done with all the battling."

The two stopped abruptly before walking straight into Alex, "Oh, Mooring! I didn't" Alex held out his hand, "I didn't hear anything, carry on.I would suggest different subjects to talk about."The two nodded and moved around him whispering quietly to themselves probably thanking the heavens it wasn't another officer who had heard him. Alex didn't particularly care to talk about the king and more times than not he would see himself out of any conversations about him.

Alex sighed and walked to the front of the boat, he didn't feel like eating. At the front of the boat they had tables sat around the deck. Some soldiers had already arrived and some were sitting at the tables playing cards or talking while eating. He eyed an open table near the point of the ship and sat down laying his bag to his side wondering what he would do once he got back.

After a while lost in thought, as he usually is, a crowd of soldiers all gathered on the deck finished with eating. They were all jittery to get home after their long service and many of them were ready for a quiet life living on their pension. Some soldiers were happily talking to one another and others were sitting quietly in shaded places and out of the way. There was, however, another group.

Some soldiers were not as lucky as their other comrades and are coming home with scars. Some were missing arms or legs, others were horribly disfigured and wore layers of bandages on their faces and bodies. The Afronese kingdom in the last weeks of war went on a defensive and utilised the worst of magics, poison. Alex pitied the souls who came into contact with their poison gas, but they fared far better than most of their comrades.

The last parts of the war were brutal, but in retrospect, all of it was mad. Alex could remember the horrible things their enemies had done, but he could not deny the things his side had done as well. He sighed as he looked upon each soldier's face and each of them had a story equally gruesome or crazy. He leaned back in his chair watching the sea cliffs of his homeland role by and wondered to himself out loud.

"What were we fighting for?" "Quiet the controversial question, definitely not one answered lightly." Alex recognised the voice and stood up quickly raising his hand to his forehead. "General!" A very large man with a rough bear and bald head stood before him. "At ease, and it's just Flint now, i've resigned."

Alex put his hand down and Flint sat down motioning him to do the same. "So, what's your plans for this evening? Surely someone of your stature will be going back home for a feast?" Alex answered quickly, "I don't wish to meet with my father anytime soon. I think I'll just find some lodging in the lower city." Flint nodded, understanding why he wouldn't. "...But there is something I have to do…"

Alex pulled out a set of dog tags wrapped around his throat, "I have a promise to keep." Flint didn't have to read the tags to know who they belonged to, "If you wan't, I would not mind attending to that with you." Alex shook his head, "No, I have to do this alone. Besides, I'm the reason-" The boat's horn came alive and a voice silenced the soldiers. "Good men this is your captain speaking, telling you that your long wait is now over. The Ollumonele will come into sight at any moment now, welcome home."

The crowd moved to one side of the boat and peered at the cliffs that marked their home's border. "The Ollumonele?" Flint frowned, "You haven't heard about it. It's a tower they began building near the middle of the war. Well I say tower, but it's more like a weapon. A defensive magic obelisk, it creates this barrier around the city similar to the wards placed on the castle. Quiet the achievement, so I hear."

"Look, Look," "There it is!" "Magnificent." As the ship sailed past a large cliff the city came into view. Exlaria, the City of Rulers. Nicknamed the White City of the North by its neighbors it has been standing for thousands of years and Alex believed it would continue to stand for a thousand more. The white marble structures gave the city an almost heavenly radiance and any citizen will tell you that heaven was not too strong a description.

It was a large city and hailed by many as a superpower. The castle, surrounded by its impenetrable walls, stood great and tall upon the highest peak in the city. To Alex, it looked down on the city like a guardian, a benevolent ruler to symbolise the ones who've sat in it's throne. In front of the city's walls was a grand tower of marble with a golden top. It wasn't a huge tower, but as the ship grew closer to the port he could begin to see the golden wards across its side that symbolized it's worth.

Golden lines and shapes marked multiple different wards. Some were of different protection runes that blocked fire, ice, lightning, water, and a number of other magics. It wasn't until the boat drew closer was he able to make out the topmost runes. These runes weren't meant for defence, but for attack. One was a giant rune for a simple spell called Fireball.

It was a truly impressive magic construct and one that will protect the city for a long time. Alex breathed a sigh of relief as he looked upon the structure, it was proof his kingdom wasn't as petty as Afronese and innovate to protect its people. Alex couldn't help but remember Afonese's capital, it was quite the different sight from the one in front of him.

As the sailors prepared to dock, Alex took note of the ships exiting the port. Along with fishing vessels heading for the open sea supply ships bound for the East also chugged alongside. Alex wondered if the aid provided by the king was enough to help rebuild the war torn kingdoms of the East. The land had been devastated by war long before the North joined and Alex wondered if they succeeded in bringing peace or not.

Flint smiled at him, "Well kid, if you're looking for a place to stay why don't you try my Inn?" Alex stopped, "You own an Inn?" Flint shrugged, "Well, it's my wife's Inn but I fancy myself the owner. It's north of the church square, can't miss it. It's called the Send Off. If you come, drinks are on the house." Alex had nowhere else to stay, "If your offering I can't refuse, I'll head over once I'm done."

Flint smiled and got up from his chair and began walking away when he stopped and turned around, "Oh, and Alex I want you to know something. You aren't stuck in the battlefield any more so try to start familiarizing yourself with city life again. No one out there is trying to gut you so you can rest assured that you're safe."

Alex nodded and the General walked through the crowd and disappeared. The ship had successfully docked to one of the large marble docks and the soldiers had begun piling off. With shaky legs the soldiers finally took their first steps on their homeland in many years. Alex grabbed his rucksack and followed them.

He felt a weight on his chest as he took his first steps onto the dock and he stopped to look back at the boat like he was expecting someone to follow. He hung his head and pulled out a bloody and yellow piece of paper. "I know I promised, but… Fifth avenue, right on fourth." Alex walked into the busy streets following the instructions of an old friend.