Page 38 of Found at Sea
13
Fletcher
The men gradually trickled off, one by one, until it was only me, Alek, and Horace on deck. I got the impression Horace didn’t like to sleep, for he was always up there. Or maybe he just preferred the fresh air when he did, which I understood. Some nights I debated on bringing my hammock up on main deck and sleeping under the stars.
Even though I’d been nervous at first, I had enjoyed telling stories to the crew that evening. I might even do what Alek had suggested a while ago and play my lute for them sometime.
The best part of that evening, though, had been when Captain Flynn joined us. He always kept to himself, so to see him join the discussion had been a little unbelievable, but amazing.
I hadn’t forgotten our kiss—as if I could ever forget it—and being in his presence still caused lust to flare to life. Even if hewasinfuriating and complicated; wanting me one moment and becoming distant the next.
“You know a lot of stories,” Alek stated, staring out over the side of the ship. It was too dark now to see anything other than the dark movement of the water and the places the moon’s light touched it.
“I didn’t talk to many people in Helmfirth,” I said, standing beside him. “There were a few I talked to, but I mainly stayed in the background and just observed. Many didn’t notice me, and the ones who did didn’t care. Working in the tavern, I heard many stories told by drunken sailors and merchants. I wrote down the ones I liked. It’s how I passed the time.”
Alek nodded but remained quiet.
The side profile of his face was lit by the lamp beside us and enhanced even more by the moon above us. His lips were perfectly plump and his lashes were long. I’d always thought him to be beautiful, more so than most men. But the desire I carried for the captain was nowhere to be found in my greatest friend.
He looked so far away as he stared, and I suspected he had more he wanted to say. I chose to stay silent and let him approach whatever topic it was on his own terms.
The farther south we sailed, the less of a chill there was at night. I liked it. I could comfortably be on deck without the cold creeping into my bones.
“Fletch?”
“Yes?”
Alek finally moved his eyes to me. “You know so many myths and stories of the sea, but are you well-versed on ones based on land? Legends that take place in dark caves and faraway villages, speaking of magic and betrayal.”
I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“I know a few but not many,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”
“A long time ago, magic wielders—called mages—and humans lived in peace,” Alek said in a tone that matched the faraway look in his eyes. “And then it all changed when one mage took it upon himself to use his magic for evil. His name was Haman and he created an uprising. That was the birth of the dark mage, magical beings with no moral compass and who killed innocents without mercy. They took their talents and twisted them into something sinister, all because they felt they were superior to humans.”
With my curiosity piqued, I did the impossible and didn’t say anything as he talked. So many questions buzzed in my head, but I didn’t voice them. Not yet.
A vague memory sprang to life, as if I’d heard about mages somewhere before.
“A war was waged and so many lives were lost on both sides,” he continued. “When the humans won by killing Haman, magic was banned from all the realms. It mattered not if there were mages that had refused to join Haman and who had even helped the humans win the war; all magic and those who used it were seen as evil. Many innocent mages were murdered just for existing. The ones who weren’t killed went into hiding.”
“This is only a story, though, right?” I asked.
Alek studied me with a somewhat pained expression. Something told me that it hadn’t just been a story to him, that he was leading up to something more.
“What’re ya lads doin’ out here?” Horace grumbled. “Dawn comes early and ya need to get some shut eye.”
Alek looked away from me before walking toward the stairs that led below deck. I followed after him, wanting to press him for more answers but not knowing if it was the right time to do so.
Before he went toward his bunk, he turned to me.
“Goodnight, Fletch.”
“See you bright and early,” I said with a smile, one I didn’t really feel.
He nodded and left my side.
I continued on my way to my room, mulling over everything that had just transpired. In all the time I’d known Alek, he hadn’t been one to tell many stories. He loved to listen to me tell them and comment on them, but he’d rarely instigated them. So what made him do so that night?
