The Warring Island of Hjalthor (5)

"Never give up, Garrick. Through all our shortcomings, the one thing you can't train is willpower. So fight on, no matter the challenge, just like I will with this illness. A pesky little cough doesn't stand a chance against a Goldwind." A deep but frail voice of a man speaks with familiarity, bouncing across the darkness of Garrick's mind.

"Liar," Garrick replies. "You left us alone, and then she left me alone. I wanted to give up and let myself die. Starving every day, sleeping in the filth of the streets, I just wanted to make it end, but even though you didn't stick to your own words, It resonated enough with me that I just couldn't keep from fighting on, one step at a time... I love you, dad. I know you fought until your last breath."

Garrick awakens to the gentle rocking of the ship as it traverses the waves, soothing an otherwise agitated soul. A surprising quiet fills the room, intriguing Garrick as he looks around, realising he isn't in the lower deck but in a room furnished with a desk, tables, and chairs, with the bed he sits on in the corner. Windows fills the back wall, looking out into the sea with no landmass in sight. Garrick knew it must be the captain's quarters, but he didn't understand why he was there.

Standing up was easy, but his arms felt weak, and try as he might, his hands shook as he attempted to make a fist. His last memory was impacting against the Valandras sea; the height he fell from and the speed made it feel like hitting solid ground, and face first at that. His arm wasn't a mangled mess anymore, but it wasn't in good shape either. Without his healing factor, he would've been dead a dozen times over, and it just made him all the more frustrated to realise how untrained he was. Living in a small bubble performing quests for the guild blinded him to the realities of the world and how far someone could truly progress when they apply the needed determination. Garrick wanted that life. To be strong and capable, even after becoming the Runecarved, it wasn't a guaranteed path to power; death was still real. Every step a battle, a battle he must win.

Garrick plants his feet on the cold wood and steps forward, his legs weak and struggling to move effectively with the ship's rocking, taking longer than usual to adjust. A journal falls off the desk as the vessel gets knocked by a big wave, spilling open and showing its contents. Garrick leans over with the audible noise of an old man and picks it up, peering at the open page as the jumbled letters move into a legible text.

Journal Entry Day #86

'I still don't understand this new place I'm in. I can pick up the occasional word, but It's still foreign. It's so similar in some aspects but miles apart in others, making it even more confusing to me. I wonder If I'll ever get back home to my crew in Nassau. I stay awake at night, thinking about the adventures I'm missing out on, wishing to find that place again and make my way home.'

"Dex's journal?" Garrick flicks the pages until he reaches the beginning, deciding to invade the privacy of Dex, reading something he has a good feeling he shouldn't.

Journal Entry Day #21

'I found a journal and figured writing would help me keep my sanity in this madness I've found myself in. I don't know how long I've been here, but I'd guess about three weeks. I remember battling the British. My ship was destroyed, my crew dead or drowning, and I was the latter. I sank into the water, the light fading away, my vision going dark. I didn't want to die, so I held my breath as long as I could, but eventually, my body forced me to breathe in, and when I did, my lungs filled with that salty water, and I passed out moments later. I woke up, though, somehow. I was on a ship, people towering over me, speaking a language I didn't know. I tried talking back, but It was a pointless endeavour. My mind struggles to recall. I might be remembering it all wrong, but I think it's right. Not being able to speak to anyone was the least of my issues, though. The monsters and mythical creatures we spoke of to our kids to make them behave were alive and kicking in this place. Terrified didn't even scratch the surface. I'll find a way home someday.'

"This must be the story the bartender was chatting about," Garrick, even more interested, flicks to the back page, which is blank, so he skims to the last page Dex wrote on.

Journal Entry Day #323

'I'm not going home anymore. I've come to love where I am, my crew. This place I was sent to is heaven, I'm sure of it, so I won't waste my time dwelling on getting back to earth. This journal will keep as a reminder of how far I've come. In whatever life I live, I am a pirate at heart.'

The last page is signed 'Dexter Bartholomew, captain of the Endless Coastline'.

"It's all gibberish to me now."

Garrick recoils with fright, dropping the journal on the table, so engrossed in his snooping, not hearing anyone enter. Garrick turns toward the voice and sees Dex leaning against the wall.

"I wrote that journal in my language, what feels like a lifetime ago. The place I came from, I'd be considered educated being able to read, let alone write, and now I can barely remember the words of it." Dex says with a tinge of sadness, his otherwise happy demeanour cracked by the memories of his past.

"Dexter Bartholomew, captain of the Endless Coastline," Garrick repeats while looking at Dex.

Dex's eyes light up, hearing the words he wrote down long ago. He rushes over to Garrick, places a hand on either side of his face, and kisses his head. " HA! HA! I knew you were special! One surprise after another with you, my boy. You're even healing quickly, too. Meetlemire said you would, but it sounded a little far-fetched, but I stand happily incorrect!" Dex shakes Garrick's head a little, unable to contain his excitement.

"Glad to be of help, Dex. And I heal quickly, but my arm is pretty useless still, can barely move it." Garrick achily moves it, trying to make a fist but struggling. "How long was I out for anyway? I feel pretty rough."

"About half a day tops. After that fight, I figured you deserved a comfortable bed to rest on. But, enough with that, the crew will be happy to see you; come greet your fellow men." Dex grins big and places an arm around Garrick's shoulder, guiding him outside with a helping push.

"Happy to see me, hey, careful!-" Garrick tries to resist but is still too weak to fight against the energetic spirit of the Maelstrom Voyage captain and is thrust through the doors into the top deck, the sun setting in the distance, casting a gliding orange hue across the blue expanse of the sea.

"Hey, you're awake! The crazy bastard is awake, guys!" A crew member shouts, gaining the attention of the rest that work nearby, as they, one by one, turn to look.

"Alive and kicking!" "Yeah, Limony's not a happy chappy!" "Bah, he went easy on the kid!" "Think he got taken by surprise!" The crew all start chiming in, loudly conversing, until Dex walks forward and addresses the crew.

"Listen up!" Dex's voice splits through the hubbub, cutting it dead as the crew listens attentively. "You all know the script now, but I'll repeat it for our new friends that have joined us. Watch the water at night because monsters WILL attack us, and we will be prepared for them. The Valandras Sea is a cruel place, but we are pirates, and we own this domain!" As Dex finishes his speech, the crew bursts into a roaring cheer. Despite the potential death that awaits them, they are in good spirits.

Garrick sits down on a crate, still trying to squeeze his fist.

"Who taught you might magic?" A squeaky voice chirps from above Garrick, and as he begins to look up, Limony lands in front of him, looking healthy, apart from a rosy red cheek, assumingly from Garrick's punch.

"Might magic? What's that?" Garrick replies with curiosity.

"You know, the 'strength activate' stuff! I mean, might mages don't speak the words, it doesn't do anything. Our magic comes from our guts!" Limony slaps his stomach.

"Aspect buffing? I read a book about it back in Volmyr. I'll be honest, Limony, I don't really know what a might mage is, and if aspect buffing is 'might' magic, then okay."

"Bah, you're quite the anomaly! Might magic is using our magic to enhance our physical attributes. The interesting thing about might magic is you either can do it or you can't! I've only met a handful of people who can do it in all my travels. You need confidence and a huge set of guts to use it."

"So you were using aspect buffing in the salt circle?"

"Well, that's an 'aspect' of it, haha! I'm a funny one.-"

"GARRICK!" A voice squeals from across the ship, healing the conversation, as Meetle sprints over, excited to see Garrick up and about. "I'm happy you're walking! I'm thinking of learning restoration magic since you seem injured more than healthy!" Meetle cheekily chuckles. Even Limony has a chuckle himself.

Garrick's face drops into a glare at Meetle. "Did I see you high-fiving Limony when he threw me out the circle?" Garrick leans in close, inches from Meetle's face.

"Ah-well-uh-I-I-" Meetle gulps and fumbles over his words.

Garrick chuckles while lightly punching Meetle's arm. "It was a good throw, deserving of a high-five."

"One guy with a missing arm and the other with a mangled one. Should I be worried?" That monotone, blunt voice, as identifiable as ever as Kyra, walks up from the lower deck.

"I'm sure we can arrange something," Garrick snarkily replies.

Meetle and Limony chuckle until Kyra slaps their heads.

"You two seem to be enjoying yourselves. I've been chatting to the crew and been told this sea gets pretty 'active' at night, so how about you get back to bed, Garrick, and sit this one out." Kyra ruffles his hair like he's a little kid.

"Finally got your sea legs? You're not throwing up after every second word, and I'm not sitting anything out. I'm used to being crippled, so point me to wherever my sword is, and I'll be fine." Garrick stands up with a pained groan. "Maybe not that used to it."

"It's downstairs. The crew had to ask me to move it! Otherwise, they'd drag it about and tear up the ship." Limony flexes his arms and kisses his biceps. "Light work, for me, though."

"That's enough midgets for me today. Seriously though, Garrick, if you want to fight, I won't stop you, but you struggle to swing that sword on a good day; you're pretty fucked right now." Kyra bluntly voices her 'way' of showing affection despite the typical tell-tale signs not being there.

"Yeah, you can rest tonight. We've got this covered!" Meetle smiles a toothy grin while nodding his head. Limony smiling and nodding beside him.

Garrick stares for a moment, then speaks up. "If the only thing keeping monsters away from my sleeping body is you two, then I'm a deadman."

Meetle and Limony's smiles turn into pouts while Kyra laughs.

"I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's not knowing when to give up." Garrick gives a slight smile and nods to Meetle.

"I can attest to that!" Limony chirps up while nodding with wide eyes.

"Let's see If the monsters that skulk in these waters can deal with us." Garrick places a fist out, fist-bumping Meetle and, eventually, Kyra, who rolls her eyes.