The ship was huge. Maybe as large as a castle. But it was also designed to take in tons of cargo and thousands of passengers, and so it consisted of several small and cramped spaces that made the ship seem a lot smaller than it actually was.
I had to share a cabin with Edmund that was smaller than the room I had in that rundown tavern. There was just enough space for the two beds on either side and a small desk in the middle.
It was dark and musty, and we could hear the incessant groan of the ship.
But it was hard to complain. It was the sa for other gentlefolk. And I heard commoners actually had to sleep on the floor in the lower decks, packed like potatoes in a sack.
The longer I was aboard, the more thankful I was I did not proceed with my first disguise.
After a miserable ti on the main deck, throwing up everything in his stomach and having his seemingly endless energy completely drained, I had to escort Edmund to our cabin. He imdiately shut down as soon as he touched the sheets.
He looked every bit like an overworked peasant who passed out after laboring under the sun the whole day, when all he really did was stand on the deck for a couple of hours.
With him out, I was left alone with my thoughts. I listened to the waves, to the loud groan of the wood, and the occasional shout from above or the nearby cabins. All of it was drowned out by the noise in my head.
I walked to the other side and sat on the opposite bed. I was calm, but my chest was beating fast. The realization about the weight of my decision was just settling in. Every mont I spent onboard ant a little further away from the place I once called ho.
Oddly enough, a part of my heart still ached for the manor. Nostalgia could be deceptive. Despite the many terrible experiences I had in that castle, I had a more vivid mory of the good tis.
Those lazy afternoons where I could lean on the windowsill and watch the beauty of the world outside. Imagine myself running through the green grass of the adows, taking a dip in that silvery stream in the distance, or playing the lyre under the nearby old oak tree, maybe with a pretty maiden by my side.
Or those cozy nights where I could listen to Sir Roland’s stories in front of the warm glow of the fire in the furnace. Imagine myself in his place, doing valiant and heroic deeds, being the glorious knight in the tales, while listening to his old voice.
Or those few tis where the whole family would be out and I’d be left alone with the house servants. Sir Roland would allow to sneak out of my room and play with the footn and the maids in the yard, or simply converse with them about the latest gossip in the kitchen.
Before I knew it, I was lying in bed, my head resting on the pillow. That subtle motion that made others throw up now slowly lulled to sleep. The excitent had kept awake for most of last night, and so my body did not mind the rest.
---
There was a repeat of the nightmare I had in the inn the other day. About being burned at the stake in the manor, although it was less clear and less frightening than the first ti.
I was nonetheless shaken when the first thing I saw upon waking was a single tongue of fla and a horrifying face beside it.
"By the gods!" My hands imdiately went to where I had leaned the sword against the bed fra before going to sleep, only to find it had probably slipped down to the floor.
Before I could do anything more, I recognized the face.
It was Edmund. The tongue of fla rested on one of his fingers. A better look showed it was not any bigger than that of a candle.
"You’re... you’re a fire mage?" I said, slowly easing down, a bit embarrassed. Edmund did not seem to notice my fright.
"Well, obviously, I am, yes..." Edmund replied, glancing at the fla and then at .
"Why am I learning that just now?" I sighed as I sat up in bed and bent down to pick up the sword from the floor.
"There was no need for it until now," he yawned. It would seem he had also just woken up.
"How about earlier? With that lady El—uhmm, Elsa..." I said, rembering the earlier incident, and not fondly.
"Elena," he corrected. He then extinguished the fla only to reignite it with an almost inaudible and fast recital of the chant. "This is the only spell I know, my lord. To be more accurate, the only spell I can learn."
I resisted the urge to let out a huff of derision. But it only made sense. Most knights turn to the sword to compensate for their lacking magical ability. And he wasn’t even one. It was not unheard of for offsprings of low stock to have the magical affinity but not the ability to learn spells.
"And are you suggesting I fight water with fire? Not to ntion, dare harm a lady when I am a nobody?" he said.
I shook my head as I stood up. "Why do you know soone that high up in the ladder anyway?"
He hesitated to answer, scratching his head, but relented with a sigh. "I once worked for Baron Greylock... as a man-at-arms."
"That sounds like a decent post..." I curled my nose. My father’s n-at-arms were so well-paid, even foreign rcenaries knocked on our gates for a chance.
"Yes... but I have higher dreams," he sighed.
This ti I chuckled audibly. He was both ambitious and talkative... not a good combination in anyone’s court. "And is boarding a ship to nowhere part of your pursuit for prestige, Master Edmund?"
Edmund was pissed by the mockery, and I thought he would end the conversation there, but he replied.
"But we’re not going ’nowhere,’ Lord Devon... we’re going to a new world, where land is being generously given away," he said, a smile creeping to his lips. "There, even a no-na like could dream to be sobody and not be called a fool."
"A new world, huh..." I muttered. I signed up just so I could get away, but maybe there was sothing really exciting I could look forward to.
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