Chilling Veracity

Year 765 Manuk Soulstone

Pulsating, she felt the drumming of the world everywhere around her. The sound throbs in her mind as if Erathea’s heart is pressing on her head. All she feels is the fear of being swallowed.

It wires her to fight the weight of her exhaustion in her eyelids. She springs to her seated position with eyes wide and head turning to take everything in. Her breathing is shallow and anything she glances at is a blurry mess of colors. There is nothing that felt familiar to her, setting her in a panic.

Where am I? Her quaking fingers clench around the raggedy blanket that is on her. She thought of ripping it off and running as fast as she can out of this unfamiliar place. The world feels like it is going to swallow her.

“Lass!” One hand touches her shoulder while the other rests on the square of her back, whatever they are trying to do earns them a quick grab by the loose collar of this individual. In her stupor, she can not recognize the touch to anyone in her memory. And she hates getting touched.

“Calm down, Rhea.” The voice is calm, a kind of forces serenity, but at least that gets her to snap out of her panic attack. Sabol slowly phases into shape in her vision. His tan features marked by one scar that is deep and dark from around the earhole to the side of his cheek like a half crescent moon. Then his straight brown hair is tuck beneath a blue and white jeweled studded headband.

His thin lips are set into an upward curve as an attempt to keep her calm, brown almond-shaped eyes wide due to her lashing out unconsciously. His hands are far up to appease her frantic primal side of hers, the one that is trying to coax her fire within her.

The…surgeon? Rhea slowly uncurls her fingers that are around his shirt collar, absorbing more of where she is. First and foremost, she is in a swaying hammock, that’s why she had this strange feeling of hovering. The ship always sways with the ocean to make this feeling worse for her right now.

Thankfully, her heart slows enough to rationalize out every insane anxiety. She scans around, seeing the other empty cots and hammocks. There is a medical table that looks to have recently been wiped down, the surface is still wet from his cleaning. There is a cabinet full of an assortment of medicine bottles and surgery tools. All things that aren’t needed for someone like her.

“Why…am I here?” Rhea blinks, registering late that she no longer had her blouse on. The only thing covering her chest is the banded leather. Upon further inspection she saw wraps of white bandages which looped around the joint of her left shoulder and the dip of her armpit. What the…?

“You don’t remember?” Rhea shakes her head. That is when Sabol pulls a chair up to sit by her hammock. Both of his calloused hands rest on his lap, he is in tune to her responses now. “Not even when the captain held you so tenderly through the surgery?”

“You must be lying. Now where are my weapons?” Rhea huffs, her fingertips tracing the lines of her bandages. The temptation to scratch it off makes her skin pimple. There is no wound, no pain, even the bandages were clean from blood.

“Lies aren’t required in my profession. The captain has your bow and arrows.” Sabol cracks a smile. Somewhere in their interaction these kind features are curling in amusement. “You’ve been shot. We had to get the bullet out and feed you medicine. Not too long after, you choked up this black bile, scaring my soul out of my body. Then you slept through about Manuk’s rise and fall.”

That long!? “Of course. Medicine will do that to me because I am-“ Rhea sucks in her breath to stop her sentence mid-stride, stuck in silence instead because she can’t think of any proper comeback.

“I saw your healed wound. You’re a mage.” Sabol rips her hidden words right out of her, laying them in the thick air. Rhea glares at the surgeon, expecting the worst immediately. A mage in this society might be the lowest rung of people, the normal masses views them blasphemous to wield mana so freely. It is the mortal kind’s job to be subservient to Manuk and never the other way around, lest they be swallowed by Erathea.

So, despite her natural recklessness, she chooses her words very carefully. “And what does that mean to you, sea medic ?”

“Haha. My thoughts don’t matter. The captain is a different story.” Sabol leans in, tilting his one-ear head. “Curious where he would learn the truth from? From the rumors or you?”

What a creep-!?

“Are you threatening me?” Her heart drums hard in her chest. She can’t help thinking of the worst possibilities. Is her next reality going to be exiled out to the Angoran Sea or executed?

“No… Just a warning. As someone who used to be at the receiving end of bad rumors and did nothing, I can’t sit here and let you be subjected to it anymore.” Sabol gets up from his chair and inspects the clean tools, no longer focus on her.

“Why…?” Rhea relaxes the strain in her shoulders, sensing that the threat is gone. It is just strange to ever witness someone going from sounding like they are threatening to caring in seconds. Unless she is just that bad at reading between the layers of Sabol’s tone. He isn’t the most colorful of individuals, always carrying an even voice as if he didn’t know how to yell.

“Let me tell you a little about myself. Captain Connor didn’t favor me much when he was younger. He did believe the rumors and blame me for it. He is quite the loyal pup to the captain before him. I don’t blame him at all; Captain Roland held a standard that was beyond any mortal kind. When I stuck around him it tarnished his reputation for a while.” Sabol starts to wipe the clean tools more, carrying on the story without a hint of discomfort. It is as if the man accepts his strife a long time ago. He is so peaceful, it calms even Rhea’s dancing heart.

Just like…papa.

“May I ask what the rumors were about?” Rhea wants to learn more about this Captain Roland character. Maybe if she can find out more about him, she might better understand Captain Connor.

“They weren’t too dissimilar to yours, Rhea. Just change the names.” Sabol smiles with his eyes, the warmth of them breaking her final walls. She starts to trust him; her naivety might bite her at the end, but at least it isn’t without fighting.

“Like the new ones of me being a mage?” Rhea cocks her head, squinting at the sea surgeon. Nothing can be piece together in her brain.

“Huh?” Sabol’s brows hitch up, wrinkling the skin on his forehead. “Not…the mage rumors.”

“Then what-“ Rhea halts, the memories of all the rumors of her and Captain Connor having more than a business relationship floods her. She sputters, “You and the other captain?!”

“I’m not sure if I should take offense. I was a handsome man.” Sabol chuckles, dropping the tools back inside a drawer. Busying himself with organizing the medical shelf, this man doesn’t know how to stay still.

“That is not why-! I never met anyone who chose a partner of the same-“ Rhea can’t find the right words, she had it stuck in her throat but felt it is inappropriate for her to say. Her father mentioned lightly how same-sex partners are not openly accepted in Moarin society, often their preference stays a secret to their graves.

This man is open about it, spouting just as even temper as earlier when he voices some of his past to her. “I have a question. Does being married to a man change how I perform in my profession?”

Married? Rhea shakes her head urgently; she won’t dare speak now about the matter. The last thing she wants to do is perceive as offensive.

Sabol turns his head and cracks another kind grin, “That’s good. Beneath that rough exterior, the captain is an understanding young man. He had to be if he allowed me to marry Karlel. It’s best to tell him before the rumors get to him though. By then he might keep you shut out. And there’s no telling how quickly he loses his grudge. Take it from me.”

Rhea forcefully nods, finding his warnings justified. Sabol is a strange man, but he means well. He helps Rhea in ways she thought she didn’t need. It is still hard to see past that spiny and cold side of the captain. What does he do to earn the crew’s loyalty?

“Captain Connor has done something for each of us on this crew. Whether he intends to do it out of self-interest or not doesn’t matter when he does put the effort to at least recognize our interests. But don’t tell him that I told you. He has an image to uphold.” Sabol sheds some light as to why he is loyal to the captain without a second beat. This man deviates to the table just wipe down the table surface again.

That’s when the door flings open and the one at fault is a young lad with dirty blond hair. His emerald gems of eyes glisten with the tears he fights down. For a teenage boy, crying isn’t something they will do openly, trading his sadness for rage. Ranko is no different and follows the same unspoken rule. Ruffin did the same.

“What the Anukrin hell RHEA!?” Ruffin, the captain’s cabin boy, marches right over and hugs Rhea by the head while using the lone chair to give him a lift. His hug confuses her since his words are burning with so much anger and her head is being gently crushed. “HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID!? Captain made it sound like you were just at the Trail’s entrance!?”

“To be fair. She did look so unwell earlier.” Sabol shifts again to try to close the flapping door, only for two more individuals to barge in.

Cid and Jerold…

Jerold is already distraught, none of the words he spews can even register as being eligible. Jerold saunters over and kneels beside her swaying hammock.

“Little matey!?” Roars Cid as well, but he isn’t upset, he sports this huge toothy grin. “A proper warrior ye be takin’ that bullet fer the cap’n!”

Rhea can’t even answer him if she tries, and she is trying by poking Ruffin’s arm to get out of this hug. It didn’t work.

“Are you nuts!?” Both Ruffin and Jerold yelp at the same time in their unique dialect.

Then the berating ensues with the two of them saying their piece as to why Rhea shouldn’t be taking on any bullets. While Cid refrains from defending himself, the room is bustling with so much noise it felt like it might break down the wooden walls. Sabol stands back, with the same kind smile that lacks anger. It looks like he is stuck out of options while touching the doorknob.

Great.

“HEY, I AM NOT FRAGILE!” Rhea snaps; her voice still muffles by the death hug on her head. This boy had not even loosened his hold. “And let go!?”

“No or you’ll do something stupid again,” Ruffin challenges, grumbling. There is a new revelation of late. This boy is an oddly clingy one. Rhea just had to learn to accept his attempts at manhandling.

“Listen to the lass, lad. Besides, she might be hurtin’” Jerold warns, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Fine.” Ruffin releases her head and slumps on the chair with a pout so big she can see the pink on the inside of his mouth.

“I am not hurt!” Rhea pats the bandages on her shoulder, “These are just for show.”

“That doesn’t make sense lass.” Jerold squints at her, making his hook nose wrinkle. “I saw ya bleeding with a bullet hole meself.”

Cid and Ruffin also stare at her with equally pointy looks, making her wince from all the eyes.

Sabol is the only one that remains rather neutral. Though he threw her further into the vulipin pits. “She has something that she needs to share.”

Traitor.

“What’s doc sayin,’ little matey?” Cid presses on, looking more excited by the suspense.

“I…” Rhea gulps down the anxiety. It is already too late, by now the rumor of her wielding magic is probably spreading to the lowest rung. Soon they will know. Soon the captain will find out. This is why she starts with a request rather than answering them right away. “I have a favor to ask.”

Rhea stomaches the possibility of them reacting terribly towards her secret. It is only natural to be fearful of such things. So, even as they regard her with undivided and unbiased attention, she fears the worst.

Rhea imagines the scorn darkening those irises, all their smiles gone on their faces as the hatred finally rears itself. She grips at the blanket that drape over her legs hard. After all, it had only been a little over a week since she start sailing with them. What is to say that they remain so jovial around her?

“Ya can tell us lass.” Jerold reassures her, and for a moment she truly did believe that.

Her gaze flit from Jerold to Sabol, who is still peaceful. Can this mean she is overreacting?

Her father used to say that trust requires a lot of testing, the only way to really know is by trying.

Here goes…papa. “I need your help keeping the rumors of me at bay. At least…till I talk to Captain…” Rhea asks, keeping her voice flat, but it only made her sound shrill. She can’t hide what bothers her well.

“What rumors?” Cid questions honestly, scratching at the back of his neck. This half-giant doesn’t look the type to listen to any rumors, let alone a serious conversation.

“I heard of them! Some idiot kept saying she causes that mortar round to explode! But that just sounds like half-scorched talk. No sane person would ever claim such a thing.” Ruffin spouts, leaning back to get a better look at the half-giant.

“Don’t concern yaself wit’ such rumors, lass. Ya better rest up that wound before talkin’ t’ the capt’n.” Jerold obviously didn’t understand what she is trying to hint at either. Sabol only shakes his head, as a cue for her to keep going. That is how she will interpret Sabol’s body motion.

“Listen!” The attention that she thinks is lost turn back to her, making her heart race. If she waits any longer, she will suffocate underneath her pounding heart. “I am a mage!”