Bright Realm

Year 765 Manuk Soulstone

“AYE! Ruffin...just to be safe please get food for me.” Rhea whispers to her young companion.

“That won’t solve anything. But okay.” Ruffin moves to get in line doing exactly what she begs him to do.

Rhea saunters towards the table Cid and Trevor sat at, and across from them incase they didn’t really want her to be near them. ” Chathalic-rues .”

“What does that mean again, Rhea?” Cid tilts his head, benignly curious, spooning up a few bites from his notably bigger bowl. It must be nice to be related to the cook, because Trevor didn’t have a big bowl like him.

“It means blessed day in my tongue.”

“Ah! Makes sense.”

“Sure, it does...” Trevor’s dry sarcasm rubs her the wrong way. Already she is imagining how to best set his soup ablaze.

“Rhea. We wus talkin’ about a group sparrin’ match later tonight-”

“Cid. You big oaf...stop telling everyone.” Trevor pokes the big bicep of this sailor with the handle end of his wooden knife. It bends instead of hurting the half-giant.

“Eh? Rhea’s new, new people are fun to spar with.”

“Why can you not tell people?” Rhea asks, peering at them suspiciously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” A retort came from Trevor, meaning to cut her off from the inner circle of the conversation. It might have worked if it isn’t another voice that intrudes their conversation.

“Tis because the lads aren’t supposed to be sparrin’ per capt’s orders.” The voice interjects, a man floats in from behind her with his own bowl of soup, sitting next to her. It is Jerold.

The food steam wafts into her nostrils, making her mouth water. Forgetting about the conversation briefly.

“But Jerold...ye gonna be there, right?” Cid stops chewing a meat chunk from the bowl just to pout. Trevor sighs, now focusing on his meal. It looks like he is giving up on his attempt to keep the secret just between them.

“Aye. To make sure no one gets hurt...and perhaps chance some bets. Lass-” Jerold points a wooden spoon at her. “Should go too. It’ll be a good way to get to know the crew. It’ll be in the deepest belly of the Maiden”

“I see-” Rhea blinks away the hypnotizing hunger, trying to remind herself that she will get her share soon. It’s already cruel to keep her away from food for this long. Even worse, they portion them. Who is the maniac that invented portions? “Would the captain be furious?”

“Not if ya keep quiet about it. This ain’t the first time. Just don’t tell the lad. He is the Capt’s trustee little sidekick-”

“Who are you calling sidekick?” Ruffin finally joins the lot, glaring at Jerold. His hands are full of two steaming bowls of stew.

Rhea did not wait to assist the boy, grabbing her bowl and spoon. Then spooning a mouthful of the stew, her priorities shift to just the food. Not even taking a second to taste it.

“Jeez Rhea. Breathe...” Ruffin comments, hesitating to sit next to her.

“Do ya eat enough lass?” Jerold asks, the concern painting his face.

“This lass is eatin’ like a champion!” Cid guffaws and Trevor roll his black irises.

Rhea is left with liquids to slurp up. Even when she did, her stomach pangs for more. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Not enough. I am so hungry.”

“Here...” Ruffin offers his bowl, looking more concerned than Jerold. “Vaph wants to make me fat anyway”

“Thank you!” Rhea will cry if she let herself, eating his share slower than her first bowl.

“Yer know. Pa wun’t deny yers food if yer need it, Rhea.” Cid chimes in, wiping away the tears from his laughing fit.

“I doubt it. She stole the rations...” Trevor finishes his meal, got up with the empty bowl. He looks ready to leave.

“I was not stealing. They were offered to me. I just took more than I sh-” Rhea saw the doubt creep along all four of their faces. Defeated, she chose not to defend herself. “Bah!”

At least, this meal tastes better than the dried bits of nuts, bread and fruit.

“Anyhow. I am done here.” Trevor saunters away, yawning all the way to where all the used bowls get thrown in: an empty barrel.

Cid is next to leave, actually waving them goodbye. “See yer later Rhea!”

“Mmhm!” Rhea nods, her mouth filled with food.

When Cid exits, Ruffin restarts his interrogation. “Okay. What are you doing later with Cid?”

Uh oh.

“Mmf!” Rhea swallows her food in haste, trying to produce something on the fly.

“Dun’t cha know, lad? The lass needs to squash the rumors going around.” Jerold sneers, poking at his stew but more interested in them than some food.

If you do not want it...I will eat it. She kept those words to herself, knowing that it will sound greedy. Her stomach is two thirds full. That’s better than when she hunts on her own.

“What rumors?” Ruffin asks him since she is stuck in her own world, the world where she eats Jerold’s soup.

“Well. Yar too many years naïve lad and deaf too. The crew are suspectin’ Rhea to be the capt’ sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? What the icy playground is that? Now Rhea broke her focus on Jerold’s bowl, her skin crawling by the unknown title. It didn’t sound right to her.

“Yuck. They are really bored!” Ruffin sticks his tongue out, the child’s side of him showing.

“What is a sweetheart?” Rhea pries after gulping down the last bite, feeling left out. Though some part of her wishes she hadn’t even asked. The oblivious side felt safer for her mind.

Jerold snickers behind his gloved hand. “Oh lass! I ferget ya lived in a jungle. It means being a couple.”

The fire of her embarrassment nearly scorches her brain, all she can do is vocally stumble. “Co-I mean-mister-bah-Captain and I-no! No! NO! Why~?”

Bleh! You ruined my appetite. The thought of the captain as a romantic partner stains her mind. It made her stomach churn, because everyone knows that the captain is the most difficult person in the whole Erathea. Is it even possible to find a person capable enough to withstand such an intense and strict individual? Manuk will take another eon to find the right soul. If there is one.

“Well lass. I dun’t help that ya always with him while bein’ the only lady. Then ya wear sum of his clothes. The only thing missin’ is a pair of matchin’ jewelry.” Jerold’s face twists in glee, he must be enjoying her ramblings.

“He is only being a mentor... What is this matching jewel?” Rhea asks again, not sure if she should. I should keep my mouth shut.

This is where Ruffin cuts in with a face colored in disgust. “Moarin culture of betrothal. The adults get all lovey-dovey and pick a set of jewelry to signify their commitment.”

“Lad is right. Me misses and meself have a white orbed gem on each of us.” Jerold prods the leaflet of hair that slips into some white orb of unknown origins.

Her father never mentioned anything about the Moarin culture and its reliance on jewelry. Her parents claimed they were married but she had no memory or proof that they had anything like that on them. Kraxxian practices of marriage, per her mother’s guidance, is a simple exchange between the most powerful of the clan. Usually exchanging the fur of their spirit beasts, celebrating for a week after.

The subject of marriage is not something she expects to talk about on a pirate ship. It annoys her that people were mistaking their partnership for being more than that.

“Bah! This is ridiculous!” Rhea stands up, taking the two empty bowls to discard them in the barrel. Losing any need to keep Jerold or Ruffin company.

“Wait!?” Ruffin yells after her. But she is already sprinting away. By then, no one could catch up with her.