SINGED
Chapter 3

I woke in darkness, but it was not as complete as the caves from which I had crawled. Nothing above ground is that dark. Traces of light filtered in between uneven planks and the scent of pitch, pine resin and human sweat filled my nose.

“He wakes,” said a not-unfriendly voice.

I could see the shapes of bodies pressed about me and I struggled to rise. I was aware of a sharp headache and a throbbing at the base of my skull.

“Help him up, lads,” the voice said. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I was lifted to my feet, where nausea assailed me, and leaned, gasping, against a rough wooden post. The world swayed about me, but I realized, as I watched the others shift in unison, that the rocking was real.

“Where am I?” I said.

“Welcome, you have joined the crew of the H.M.S Mist Drake. It could be worse. At least you weren’t sold to slavers. What be your name?”

“Brand,” I replied.

It was the first time I had uttered or even considered my name but there was no question for me. Great Wurms always know their birth name, so I have heard.

“Well Brand, your name will be added to the Book, and you will receive a seaman’s wage and rations when they are available, at the Captain’s discretion. As I said, it could be worse, but we have already set sail and are not expected to return to Lindor for two harvests. There, you have the long and the short of it.”

My eyes quickly adjusted to the light and I could make out the speaker. He was a seasoned old sailor with shoulder length, steel gray hair tied back with a greasy leather lanyard and a beard trimmed short. He was bare to the waist, as was most of the crew huddled ’round, and his hardened chest and lean muscular arms were baked golden brown. He regarded me with sea green eyes, simple gold hoops dangling from each ear.

I stared at him, not knowing how to respond and he smiled sadly, nodding.

“Aye, it’s a bit to take in,” he said. “I’m Sal.”

Then a bell rang, and men surged up the stairs at the end of the hull. The hatches were thrown open and brilliant morning sunlight poured in. I was swept along and up into the light of day, feeling reborn as I emerged. This was the sunlight I recalled from the borrowed human memories, overpowering, wonderful and warm. I felt tears come to my eyes.

The vessel sailed on a perfect sea, whitecaps caressing the hull as she glided through them. The water was every shade of blue, converging and separating in myriad layers, rays of light descending in glittering shafts into the depths, where shining schools of silver darter fish wheeled through them. A sea hawk called shrill and clear, alighting on one of the mast arms.

I followed the others towards the aft, where Sal called roll. I was entered, as promised, into the Book, with a rank of Able Seaman, and was required to bear witness to and acknowledge all the rights and responsibilities associated with my new position.

Soon I was swabbing the decks, of all things, soaking up every ray of sun with which I could get in contact. I learned the bells of the watches, how to hoist sails, haul in rigging, weigh anchor and was in real danger of forgetting myself entirely as I succumbed to yet another life in as many days.

I love the sea. I have water drake heritage somewhere back in the shadowy depths of my ancestry, before great wurms were Great Wurms. Were we ever blissfully ignorant of our monstrous nature?

I became aware, as my simple labors allowed me to relax and reflect, what a burden self-awareness was. Sentience caused normal emotions that would have otherwise run their course in a shorter, healthier time frame, to live on beyond their usefulness, becoming a sickness. Would I still obsess over the nagging resentment of my transient sister had Great Wurms remained like our lesser brethren? If my memory had not grown so long, surely my vindictive thoughts would have faded naturally and I would have been happier for the loss.

Doing this mindless work upon the blessed waves, under the divine light of the sun, was the happiest I had ever been. True, I was young to this world still. Perhaps I could change. Adaptability came naturally to my kind, if I would allow it.

I grew to love the bells, and my bronze backed brothers who toiled with me. Sometimes we would sing, and the sound of our voices would rise and fall like the swelling of the waves. On the night watch, I stared out over the waters that had become an impenetrable black abyss. The light of the two moons bled into the waves, the greater moon leaving a brilliant brushstroke across the dark undulations, the lesser, a stain. The stars twinkled brightly, their reflections dancing on the ship’s wake.

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