《The Rising Sun》 Chapter 1: The Skyward Sun The cries of the living echoed in the void which wasn''t a void, sounding out into the unknown beyond the Pillar of Man. The sandy floor stretching into the distance with great branches of light breaking off from the base of the Pillar, slowly bending and shifting, like hands grasping for the void just beyond them. The branches varied in length. Some were just nubs, little fingers sticking off the tree. Some, unlike the rest of the tree, were dark and enervate, though at times they seemed to glow a little, only to fade quickly. Some branches reached around the Pillar, seeming hugging with a loving embrace the base from which its sprouted. Other branches of an evanescent glow grew wide and far, only to die off past a certain distance, fading and withering, but regenerating the branch as a whole. They all ended at a certain point, just where the sky went black, where there was no view beyond. Wisps float off the branches like dandelion seeds in the wind, floating in an unseen and unfelt wind into the beyond, like a titanic beast was filling its lungs. And in this beyond there were voices still, coalescing. Motes of light colliding, spinning together like great planets in an eternal dance. Wisps floating, elegant and inextricably pulled towards one another, like to like. All calling out for something more, all becoming more. A branch once more reaches for the horizon, glowing and desperate, and a nascent hand of brilliant light reaches back. Four new pillars appear in the endless sands, four new and ancient gods are born, and for the first time human and divine make contact beyond a brush. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew wasn¡¯t entirely certain that he enjoyed being gang pressed. The whole affair seemed rather unnecessarily violent. He just so happened to be heading to market that day, the early morning sun gleaming off the red brick buildings. The twisting streets leading him down to the Exe river, with the sky clear and the air crisp, a giddy joy was the natural byproduct. Though he was self-conscious of his gangly arms and legs the morning was enough to inspire skipping, and skip he did. What else was he to do on such a beautiful morning. Oh and what a beautiful morning it would be. He leaned back on what could be generously called a bunk, which in reality was a few pieces of wood with his assigned bedroll thrown over it and his leather pack as a makeshift pillow. The creaking of the ship around him didn¡¯t help with his general level of comfort, but as long as he took care not to fall off his bunk it lulled him to sleep if nothing else. Mess had just been called, but he had greater things on his mind than hardtack. He regretted walking to the docks that afternoon. The pull of watching the sunset had been too tempting. From the dock, when activity had died down, there was no better time to watch and think. He had wasted the day a bit, lounging around, talking with the shopkeepers, reading his books by the river. It was only after the sun was almost to the horizon that he realized how fast the time had flown. If only it had been the end. If only he had gone home instead of walking to watch the sunset at the docks. Instead a group of men had approached while he was sat at the edge, asking questions and making noise. He had intended to just wait for them to leave so he could spend the sunset in peace, but his reticence to act, to stand up for himself was exactly what landed him in this position. He should have just run, or fought, or anything, anything at all would have been better. Instead here he was, on a ship bound for Europe, leaving his family behind. The hull of the ship seemed nearly identical in its makeup as he walked the length of the ship towards stairs up to the deck. Sailors and soldiers in garb befitting of their station passed him by as he idled his way through the halls, the thoughts of home filling his mind. The last few days had taken him from a comfortable future, where a good life full of books and learning and happiness was within reach, to a life of drudgery and toil and danger which might not last all too long. The crepuscular red light of sunset filled the sky as he stared from the bottom of the stairwell, a sliver of the cloud filled heaven above gracing his senses with a salty breeze. ¡°Ahhhh¡±, a sigh of relief escaped him. The cool air from above pulled the tension of his muscles away as he stepped up the stairs, the sound of sloshing water on the side of the hull growing ever louder. Seagulls called out as they circled in the sky, laughing as they dove and swam in the air, searching for the fish just below the surface of the placid water. Sailors with the slight sway of seasoned seamen swaggered about their tasks, the setting sun casting the few on deck in a gradient of orange. The deck rolled as Andrew walked to the edge, the lull adding a smoothness to his step that was usually absent. He laid his arms over the railing, taking in the sight of the sun transforming the sky into a spectacle of reds and yellows and oranges. The clouds capturing the light of sundown and the sea alight with roiling color. The dread of death came over him. He was pressed into sailors garb, given no choice in the matter. Why didn¡¯t I resist? he asked himself, Why couldn¡¯t I make a difference in my own fate? The question stubbornly persisted to pester him as his eyes roved the horizon, refusing to quiet down as he tried to regain his calm and let his mind work on it in the background. He suddenly laughed at himself, how foolish can I be, wanting to matter when I can¡¯t even act, like a child wanting a galleon when he can¡¯t stand on a rowboat.. The thought of his potential death faded into focus again, stark and bloody images of his skin being cut and bones broken, of sleepless nights and encroaching shadows. He shuddered. He didn¡¯t want to die, he didn¡¯t want to suffer, his life had been of comfort and vicarious living. Each book, each character. They all went on adventures, each one of them living their lives, exploring, finding purpose and friends and a life beyond the usual. King Arthur and his knights, Beowulf. Lords of old, great battles, and heroic men. His little life had none of these, no adventure, no purpose, no princesses in need of saving. In those moments of pressure, when the men had surrounded him with their clubs and announced to him what where he was about to go, that thought - I have no purpose - filled his mind, and for a brief second he hoped, a faint glimmer, that this was the opportunity to matter. The calming sight pulled to him once more, and as his gaze fixed itself upon the wonder before him. We couldn¡¯t help but feel just that, wonder. Here he sat, watching the sun of his ancestors, the sun which would be around long after he would. The sun sat low, dipping just into the sea. It gave light, it gave life, unwavering and beautiful as it ruled the heavens. If only he could touch the sun, perhaps he would shine bright enough for all to see, perhaps then he could matter, maybe it would all make sense. His chest started to squeeze, feeling as though it was floating upwards, his eyes staring deep into the sun. His limbs faded into the background of thought, his mind for a split second beyond himself. He watched the sun with an eternal view. Watching¡­watching¡­watching. His soul began to feel lighter and lighter in his chest, as though it longed to pull him into the heavens. It all made sense, he felt a connection, a connection to everything. This universe made sense, he knew his place within it. A feeling of immense happiness filled him, a drive to go beyond. He could feel it, a realm beyond mundane reality, a place of the infinite and known and unknowable. A realm beyond all that he had ever seen, a place that he had only glimpsed at between stories and nature that pulled deep at his soul, a willing to be beyond, to step beyond finite and to brush the divine, the infinite, the whole of which he was only a part. To become more than just an insignificant speck in the infinite span of the universe and to become more. A place that told him ¡°It is okay, It will be alright, You have your place in the universe.¡± He understood himself, his emotions, God, the world, he had become more than he was. He understood and accepted who he was. He grasped the beyond. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. You Will Be More. I have to be. I have to be more. And just as he had three days ago, he thought to himself, with grim sanguine determination, I will matter. The Divine grabbed back Fire filled his veins. His soul rapidly filling with weight that mere moments ago hadn¡¯t been present. His chest squeezed, as though it was trying to contain the pressure he felt now build up within. His stomach clenched, next his lower chest, as though something was squeezing his organs. His left leg gave out, collapsing under the weight that he could now feel on his shoulders. The sun blazed a violent bloody reddish orange. He clenched his hands on the railing, trying to keep himself upright as his right leg began to buckle. He slammed downward onto his knees, slamming his head onto the railing. He grabbed the railing again, desperately contracting his muscle to pull himself upward. His cheeks felt a warm warmth, running down from his eyes to his mouth. His head pulsed. Then pulsed again. The sun shown a royal deep red, the sky turning the color of blood, flares of orange flame emitting from its center. He hunched over, his grip on the railing slipping and elbows smacking against the wooden deck. His body now bore the weight upon his back, putting pressure on the legs that kept him from flattening out. He ground his hands into the wood, pushing up against the hidden weight, staring still at the sun through lidded eyes. Only a crumbing determination, a rage against the world for whatever cruel punishment this was for striving for more. I refuse to yield, I will not be nothing, this cannot be it, I refuse, I refuse. The last of his breath was pushed out of him as the weight doubled. No¡­no..please¡­no. I will mean something, I will.. I will not.. I cannot¡­I mean.. I just wanted to find meaning. The sun turned a brilliant white.sky turned white, everything turned white, the pressure disappeared. Andrew closed his eyes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A titanic eye of darkening yellow opened in the void, spreading color, hot yellow fading to warm orange, fading to brilliant red, fading into the darkness around it. Fading into an even darker nothingness beyond it, into the cold hallowed heart of the void. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A man stood over him, staring at his palm which wept blood, a circle of burned and broken flesh carved in. He didn¡¯t seem as though he was in pain. He just seemed¡­empty, as though he was a riverbed with but a drop within. His cherry red eyes slid off his palm down to Andrews face, a crooked frown marring his face. ¡°You burn manling, you shouldnt burn¡± spoke his sibilant voice. He leaned down, sinuously crouching with a casual grace - inspecting Andrew while he did so. His hand once again reached down, only to steam as it grew closer to Andrews arm. A look of shock filled his face, then replaced by a look that on anyone elses face he would have called a shiteating grin. He chuckled. ¡°Why are you here? I can¡¯t quite touch you yet, seem to be connected but somehow out of my reach. I need more time I suppose¡±. He leaned closer ¡°You''ll be a kind fellow and give me that, won¡¯t you, just a little time?¡±. His grin grew even wider as he leaned back, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you''ll be mine by the end.¡± His face faded into obscurity as he swiftly turned and walked into the darkness, the smooth rhythm of his steps gliding into the pitch of the night. Andrew woke up to the frantic words of multiple men and a single lantern held above his head. ¡°Hold on! Come to man¡±¡±Where did all the blood come from¡±¡±Is he okay¡±¡±Someone get the captain¡±. He couldn¡¯t make out the faces of the men, even now the world above him blurred and shifted. He could feel his eyelids pulling down. Silence, he just wanted silence. The world once again faded to numbness and the titanic eye opened again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The flogging began at noon. Somehow in the captains mind a man covered in blood and knocked out on the deck was showing ¡°improper decorum¡± while within a fleet that held royal blood. I doubt the Duke of Cumberland would hear about it anyway, Andrew thought to himself. For now he was in the brig, a cage within the heart of the Fourth Rate Ship of the Line, a beast which carried upwards of 350 men within her belly. Even if he wanted to escape, there would be little to no way for him to get out unseen. There was only a few days until they docked near Hannover anyways. He had heard some sailors speculating, apparently having heard from the servant who heard from the cook, that they would port in Cuxhaven, so there was hardly a point to worsening his sentence. Not that I have the courage to attempt it anyways. A few of the sailors had apparently found him wobbling in and out of consciousness on the deck and tried to wake him. He remembered that clearly, though he wasn¡¯t as much worried about that memory as he was the one before. Who was that? Why didn¡¯t he get help? Or do I just remember it wrong? Did it even happen?! He wasn¡¯t really even sure where to begin. Obviously something had happened, even now he felt as though a weight he hadn¡¯t had before was on his shoulders, and his chest felt¡­¡±deeper¡±, as though his heartbeat was the beat of a great drum, the resonance of its strikes deep and shaking. Blood had poured from his eyes, and when they found him they had worried he was already dead. To be honest, I don¡¯t feel any worse for wear, maybe they were just exaggerating. He shook his head a little. The memory felt to real. If I was hallucinating due to bloodloss, how am I so fine now? His cell door was opened, its croaking wood stirring him from his thoughts. Light entered the room with a soft golden yellow, illuminating the black that had before left him near sightless, its lantern following close behind. ¡°Up on your feet! The man who entered the room was large. Not as tall as himself, but wide at the shoulders and well muscled. His dark beard and hair were well kempt, the beard being moderately long and his hair being cut short. His is voice rang within the confinements of the room, ¡°Up. Your due for your flogging within a quarter hour, I need you on deck!¡±. Andrew scrambled to his feet quickly, pushing himself off the ground with ease. The man frowned, stopping just inside the door, as if cautious to enter further, ¡°lets go. The captain will be on deck soon¡±. The captain. Why would the captain be attending my punishment. Why is he glaring at me. The mans eyes had narrowed in the few seconds that had passed since Andrew had started shuffling towards the door as well as he could when his feet were in chains. Ultimately he passed through the door with little but a rough hand on his shoulder and a warning to ¡°do not try anything or I will break your hand¡±. The passage to the surface was uneventful other than the occasional stares he would get from passing sailors or soldiers below decks. It seemed more empty than it should be, and the humdrum of mens idle conversations was absent in a way that struck him as wrong. It shouldn¡¯t be so silent. No lower deck should be so quiet. Are they all on deck, it would make sense, where else would they be? The captain on deck to see me and now the majority of the crew¡­what happened? Noise rose from the depths of silence as Andrew and his escort approached the top deck. Each stairway opened up new aspects of the humming sound from above, each step allowing him to hear another tremor, another pitch, overlapping and rising and falling all at once. Voices resounded from above, like the cries of battle from avenging angels, echoing down from heaven. The weighted heat with the ship didn¡¯t lessen as they ascended, only intensifying as the clamor above rose. Sweat dripped down his cheek and sides, little pinpricks of icy fire running along his skin, burning with an intensity that he couldn¡¯t ignore, the fear of whatever awaited him above inevitably hammer away any attempt of calm or thought. His stomach clenched, tense. They had finally reached the penultimate deck. The cacophony of noise outside quickly intensifying, the baritone of voices shaking the deck, the treble of men cracking against the open air. The final hatch came into sight. His captor pushing him forward ¡°Don¡¯t stop moving¡±. Andrew didn¡¯t have to look back to see the look of hatred on the man¡¯s face, the cold fury in his voice said it all. He took another step What happened, what do they think I did. It suddenly occurred to him to ask. Idiot he told himself. You could have just asked. This isn¡¯t class with Edmund, you can just ask. Before he could ask the man behind him the hatch to the deck was opened. It croaked as it opened, its old wooden creak quickly drown out by the wave of noise. The place that was so recently one of peace was now one of terror. Andrew took the first step upstairs, the cragged face of the man who opened the hatch quickly receding from view. The sky was a clear blue, the wind quiet and soft, a perfect day otherwise. Even through the shroud of his gut-clenching fear did Andrew notice this. The stark white of sailors uniforms blazed in the burning sun, blindingly light. The cacophony of noise he had heard below now hit him with full force, voices on voices. The mass of men pressed down around him, noise and bodies and heat hanging above the ship like a physical force, the pressure weakening his limbs and his breath sticking in his throat. A yell cracked out over the crowd of man, ¡°Silence! Captain on Deck!¡± Chapter 2: The Burning Wounds The clack of steel on wood traveled across the deck as the Captain stepped under the open sky. Voices quieted to whispers. Those who hadn¡¯t heard the announcement, or who hadn¡¯t cared, were quickly hushed by the men standing next to them with elbows or hissed words, mostly both. In a matter of seconds the deck was silent. Andrews first glimpse of the man had been brief, his figure framed inbetween two shifting sailors as he walked through the crowd. He had dark hair, pushed back over his head in a clean but long style. Scuff lined his face and lines developed over hours of worrying creased beneath his eyes, contributing to their shadowing. His uniform of royal blue was crisp, the golden filigree lining the cuffs and buttons contrasting well against the white of the billowing shirt sticking out just above the beginning of his hands. The sea of men parted before him, his careful and purposeful strides clearing a path for himself and his retainers. There was a coldness to his features, either mien or demeanor sending a chill to Andrew¡¯s heart, the feeling of wrongness wafted about him, a stench heavy enough that the light breeze of the sea couldn¡¯t disperse it. His cold visage morphed into a frown as he stepped from the crowd and set his eyes upon him. Andrew could feel his gaze burrowing into him, searching for something he did not find. Resignation quickly followed. ¡°You, Andrew Bernard Thaddeus Landfield, are charged with attempted desertion and murder, what say you¡±. The boredom in his voice was palpable, as if he had just announced what the destination of their journey and not an accusation of murder. Tears tingled in Andrew''s eyes. A murder, he didn''t even know what to think. A murder happened on deck last night. When? how? It must have been the blood on me, they thought it was someone else¡¯s. But was that even real, do I even remember last night? I was out for almost all of it. I would never have murdered anyone, would I? I mean, I just got on this ship. I need to know more information before I can¡­ ¡°Nothing to say murderer¡± came a jeer from the crowd. As if juvenated into action more cried out ¡°Ya, probably thinking of how you could have gotten away with it, to bad Archie fought back isn¡¯t it, ya rat bastard¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t even fight an unarmed man¡± ¡°Murderer!¡± ¡°Coward!¡± The man in the front row edged closer. Anger was etched onto his face ¡°Murderer! You sick fuck, I hope you rot¡± Andrew turned his head. It was hard to look at people with such hate in their eyes. But some sick home forced his eyes to rove the crowd. No one was lacking such looks. They all hated him. They all wanted him dead. It was only the cold mien of Captain Addison that held the men back. The harsh naval discipline they now witnessed they themselves in turn feared. They now cheered just as much for their perceived justice as they did for the show of seeing a man suffer under the law they lived under in such fear. His eyes set on the captain, who was just watching, a slight frown on his face. Suddenly it deepened and the captains voice cut above the rest, the question apparent in his raised eyebrow. ¡°Do you have anything to say¡±?. The crowd quieted down, impatiently awaiting an answer. Andrew focused and took a deep breath, clearing his thoughts ¡°I.. I did not kill whoever died, but I need to know more information if I am going to defend myself." The resigned look again. ¡°How about you just tell us what you did last night then ensign.¡± ¡°Okay, starting when?¡± ¡°Start after the twelfth hour.¡± A cool breeze rustled Andrews shirt, carrying away with it the sweat that had been running down his brow. The mast creaked as the ships sail opened wider with a great ¡°phfwompf¡±. A slight jolt ran through the ship as they accelerated. ¡°At noon I was manning the sails as I had been taught. Those working with me can attest. Both Ander and Callum were on deck at the time!¡± A murmur ran through the crowd. An old voice yelled from the crowd. ¡°Aye, a clocked him at th'' time. He wis oan deck.¡± The men turned to face him, a bubble in the crowd forming. Callum, with his wrinkled face, worn from days of service, continued to speak. ¡°He wis daein'' his jab, ill as he micht be at it. Bit jimmy¡¯n th'' sails he wis.¡± The Captain spoke once again, turning to his gaze to Callum. ¡°And you were the Boatswain at the time?¡± ¡°Aye sur¡± ¡°And at any time did he leave his post¡± ¡°Na sur, he left his post at th'' proper time, aroond four, ony ither time ''n'' he wid hae bin punished.¡± The Captain turned his eyes back to Andrew. ¡°And what did you do after your duty ended.¡± ¡°Well sir, I am an avid reader. My father owns a bookstore, and I grew up reading. So as soon as I was finished with work I went to my bunk and pulled out the book my father gave me as I left: a copy of King James Bible.¡± ¡°Oh, a man of faith?¡± ¡°..Yes, but also to become a man of learning I had hoped.¡± His mouth morphed into a crooked grin and he chuckled. ¡°Ah, a man of faith and learning. So tell me of man of faith, can anyone second your claim?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone specifically Captain Addison. I was engaged with my reading at the time, but I know for certain that multiple people came in and out of the bunk room.¡± Captain Addison turned around, his eyes peering into the crowd. ¡°Did anyone see him elsewhere at this time?¡± Silence reigned as men turned to their neighbors, searching for someone in the crowd to speak up. ¡°And did anyone sight him during this time in the bunks?¡± He waited. The shuffling of clothe and feet pounding in his ear as the midday wind itself seemed to still in waiting. The silence inched down his throat hot tar until he felt it would break him. ¡°Aye sir. I saw him down at his bunk. Practically curled over himself as he buried his face in his book¡± spoke a burly man from the crowd. Relief flooded him even as he felt his face redden in embarrassment. ¡°And at what time was this exactly?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know the time exactly but it was just an hour or two before sunset sir. My mates saw him to.¡± The men beside him muttered their affirmation, nodding their heads, voices barely carrying to Andrew. Captain Addison turned back to Andrew, ¡°And what time did you leave your bunk.¡± ¡°Just as mess was called sir. I heard the ringing of the bell and couldn¡¯t find it in myself to eat. Instead I walked up onto the deck sir.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go to mess?¡± ¡°I had a difficult day sir. The enormity of my position hit me in full. My family is back in England and here I am on a ship to Europe. Why?¡± He sighed ¡°Lots of things on my mind sir, not just missing home. The noise of mess wouldn''t have helped me. ¡± ¡°So you forewent a meal because you needed to think?¡± ¡°Yessir.¡± The Captain grinned. ¡° No sailor would miss a meal unless they absolutely had to. You do realize how suspicious you not being there is, don¡¯t you?¡± He hadn¡¯t. ¡°Well sir. It was absolutely necessary to me.¡± The Captain looked at him, brows furrowing. ¡°Then why did you come on deck?¡± ¡°The sunset sir.¡± ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°It helps me think sir. That and the fresh air. I thought it would be good for me. Clear the head and humors.¡± ¡°Hrmmph. Who all was on deck at the time?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really recall sir. To be honest I was more focused on my own thoughts than my surroundings. The Captain looked at him perplexed ¡°Do you ever pay attention to your surroundings?¡± Andrew cringed, looking away ¡°My mother always said that was a bad habit of mine, sir, I apologize.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. He just shook his head ¡°Alright¡± He turned to the man next to him ¡°Who all was on duty a the beginning of mess last night?¡± A few hands raised from the crowd. ¡°Step forward, if you saw him on deck at after the mess bell had been wrung.¡± Three men stepped forward. ¡°So you all remember him specifically.¡± The man on the left, who stood at rigid attention, spoke up, his blond hair bobbing up and down with his head. His voice was high and light, mellifluous, almost like a woman''s. ¡°I saw him on deck sir. He came up just before sunset, and walked towards the railing. I stopped paying attention to him after that sir, just assumed he was there to watch¡±. His large eyes were shimmered as he spoke, looking like little windows into the sky amidst his face. ¡°Did you notice anything on him or off about him?¡± ¡°No sir, nothing that caught my eye.¡± The Captain brought his hand to his face, stroking a nonexistent beard. ¡°He didn¡¯t have blood on him? Or look suspicious?¡± ¡°No sir, the only thing I noticed about him was the far off look he had about him. Like I could have jumped and shouted and he wouldn¡¯t have noticed me.¡± A snicker ran through the crowd as a comment met the open air. ¡°Anyone would notice you if you cried out damsel.¡± The man reddened, quickly standing straighter as if coming to attention for the second time. He stared at the captain, refusing to turn his head towards where the remark had been spoken, and started to open his mouth before quickly shutting it. His eyes hardened, the once skylike lightness turning into steely diamond. ¡°Quiet, shut your mouths! This is a trial that determines a man¡¯s future. Treat it with the dignity I know you lack or I will have your back in bloody strips within the hour¡± the Captain barked. The gleam in his eye and the sudden rictus frown on his face gave the threat a weight only backed by his presence. ¡°If another man makes a comment like that you will suffer alongside the man who sits before you. You have been warned.¡± The crowd quieted. The Captain¡¯s eyes returned to him. ¡°Did you watch the entire sunset?¡± ¡°I¡­well yes¡± I can¡¯t tell the truth can I. They won¡¯t believe me. Andrew¡¯s voice wobbled ¡°I was there the entire time¡± Addison¡¯s eyes narrowed, but the nodding of the three men who had stepped forward seemed to still his opening mouth. He leaned back, crossing his arms and eying Andrew with an appraising look. ¡°And what happened after it set?¡± ¡°Uh¡­well, I don¡¯t remember. I was looking at the sunset when suddenly I was overwhelmed with pain and knocked out.¡± ¡°Knocked out?¡± ¡°Yes sir. The next thing I remember was stirring to wake when some sailors found me on the deck. I¡­¡± Captain Addison cut him off. ¡°You remember nothing until your discovery¡± ¡°No sir. The last thing I remember was watching the sunset.¡± Noises of outrage sounded from the crowd. The mass shifting like a wave. The captain leaned forward. ¡°Nothing?¡± Andrew didn''t know what else to say, he was never good at lying under pressure. He needed time to think without the encroaching crowd around him. The silent stare from the captain seemed to last an eternity. ¡°Do you know what knocked you out?¡± ¡°The last thing I felt sir was a burning heat and pressure on my chest. The sky changed colors and I fell to the deck. After that nothing. I didn''t notice anyone behind me and I didn''t feel like I was hit. More like a boulder had been dropped on me. I wasn''t crushed but I couldn''t hold it either, just slowly ground down until I was flattened to the deck¡± His lips grew thinner as his frown stretched. ¡°Is it possible you were attacked?¡± ¡°I..It could be.¡± ¡°And when did you get on this ship?¡± ¡°Only a few days ago sir, just before the ship left port.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Because I didn¡¯t resist. ¡°I was pressed sir, decided a life of adventure was better than getting beaten¡± Addison sighed, ¡°Idiot.¡± ¡°What sir?¡± ¡°You''ll regret that. Did you know anyone on the ship before you arrived?¡± ¡°No sir. I knew no one. To be honest I have hardly gotten to know anyone either, I haven¡¯t exactly been sociable.¡± ¡°Did anyone know you?¡± He asked as peered around into the crowd. After a moment of silence and shaking heads he took a step forward, and then another, each step bringing him closer to Andrew until he was but a foot away. ¡°Have you ever killed someone?¡± Andrews heart fell out of his chest. ¡°Of course not sir. I wouldn¡¯t, I couldn¡¯t, sir I have hardly the heart to kill a rat sir. Please you must believe me. I don¡¯t like hurting people sir, it has never been my way. I prefer to solve my problems with diplomacy sir, I have never really gotten in a fight, much less have¡­ I couldn¡¯t kill a man. Even if I wanted to I couldn¡¯t, I just¡­¡± ¡°So you are a coward.¡± ¡°I am no coward sir, I just don¡¯t want any conflict.¡± ¡°Then this is the wrong adventure for you. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong profession. It will get you killed.¡± Andrew''s head hung, he knew he was right, this wasn¡¯t the place for him. ¡°I..I know sir, I just¡± Tears prickled his eyes¡± ¡­I just couldn¡¯t sit and be nothing all my life¡± The captain crouched down slowly, settling onto his heels. ¡°Alright, you didn¡¯t kill him. No motive, no means, and you couldn''t kill a man in cold blood, I can see that. You will be whipped, 39 lashes. As a man of faith you should know what that means.¡± Andrew¡¯s head jerked up ¡°What. No I..I didn¡¯t do anything¡±. The Captains cold eyes met his, ¡°Unfortunately these men don¡¯t believe that, and I don¡¯t need two murders aboard.¡± Andrew shut his mouth, a strangled ¡°ughh¡± leaving his mouth as his brain struggled to organize in a comprehensible fashion what he just heard. I am going to die. I am going to die. I haven¡¯t done a single thing and they are going to kill me. He shuddered. I am going to die and there is nothing I can do about it. His heart was ice in his chest even as sweat poured off of him. Fuck this, fuck these people and this fucking boat. I try to make one decision for myself and leave home and within a week it will all end. ¡°If you do as your told and suffer under the lash you will make it to shore. Be gld. Don¡¯t speak anymore, sit silent and walk resolute to your fate, you are not sentenced to death.¡± The Captain stood quickly, turning as he rose and murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Andrew to make out. ¡°Just bloody close to it¡±. 39 lashes. 40 to kill a man they say. 40 for degradation. What a mercy. Only 39, only 39, I just need to sit and handle 39 lashes. I won¡¯t die, come on, I won¡¯t die. I can make it through, I can live, I will live. Two men roughly grabbed his arms and pulled him up, his shirt tearing as it bore the brunt of his weight. ¡°Tie him to the mast¡± the captain said from a few meters away.¡°39 lashes for thoughts of desertion and disgrace of his royal majesty¡¯s navy¡± What fucking disgrace, I was knocked out while on deck, and thoughts of desertion, that isnt a crime! This isn¡¯t a bloody trial, this is a judge and execution, there is nothing fair about this. His body thudded against the sturdy wood. Focus. Focus on your breathing. In and out. This isn¡¯t fair, you knew the navy wasn¡¯t going to be fair. Just focus and accept it. A tiny portion of his mind, suppressed and weak, whispered out Fight. You don¡¯t deserve this, fight and make it right. He couldn¡¯t, he bloody couldn¡¯t, he knew that, his family knew that, the world knew that. He was never a fighter. And only fighters got stories. I am weak, it will make no difference. I can¡¯t do anything, what good will fighting do me now. His arms were drawn together and tied. His face ground against the smooth grain of the mast, the pain flaring in his cheek on of pressure and not splinters. Little mercies above, I am going to die. Fight, It whispered again, the same voice, desperate and angry, old and weak. I can¡¯t. I will just make this worse. I just need to accept it. The sound of a whip cracked against the deck, its noise breaking his thoughts. ¡°We will begin now. I will count and whip, there will be no lenience or clemency. Let this be a lesson, do not disgrace the crown again.¡± Tears started to well in Andrews eyes as his shirt was torn off. Oh God, please do not let this happen to me. I have done nothing wrong, I have not disrespected the crown, I haven¡¯t deserted. Please Lord, please stop this. Please Lord, I will go back home, I will content myself with a life of peace, Please, I will be happy, I will praise you, just let me get back home, just let me go home. I just want to see my family again. Fight the voice murmured. Rage. The first blow struck like a blow from heaven, the lancing pain blinding him for a moment. Andrew grit his teeth. Please give me the strength to get through this Lord, what do you want me to do? The second blow struck, the whistle a deathly premonition of the coming pain. ¡°Thwack¡±. The meaty sound of his flesh being parted drove the breath from his lungs as it did the thoughts from his head. It was all he could do to - Please please please, stop this stop this stop this The third blow drove deeper than the other two, cutting through muscle to bone. He could feel it catch before it tore back out. Fight it. The voice said again. You can fight the pain. The fourth blow forced a cry from his lips ¡°Please stop, please stop, I..¡± The jeering of the men met him as he opened his eyes and his voice was drown in a world of sound. The fifth blow was strong again, the crack carrying above the roar of the watching men and their hateful eyes. The sixth left him helpless, adrift in a world of pain, the warmth of blood on his back and pain of deep, long cuts all that held him to the world. Fight The seventh struck, arching from his shoulder blade to his hip, biting deep into his soft flesh. Andrew saw white. Stand and fight you fool, stand and fight the voice whispered stronger. His inner strength pleading him to struggle onward. The eight left Andrew staring into the brilliant sky, his mind reeling within the chaos. From that chaos came a voice, deep and whole. Fight. Your path does not end here. The ninth lash drove Andrew deeper into the chaos, his mind unable to focus on anything but the pain. Rage. This is not justice. The tenth lash crippled his halfformed response, his shaking legs crumbling beneath him. He could hardly feel his knees hit the deck with a muffled ¡°thwumf¡±. Stand o child of mine, stand child of sun and star. The whip cracked again. I.. I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t do this. The twelfth blow sundered the air. Stand and Live. The thirteenth strike slashed across his back, sending his thoughts whirling again. Only one thought remained. The fourteenth blow left Andrew feeling the tears on his face. His one thought remained. I will mean something. Sun of Star, Behold the Infinite Beauty of you forefather, BURN. The sky turned a bloody sunset as the fifthteenth blow struck. Crimson and gold clashing and blurring together in the sky above. I refuse to die here, I refuse to die never having been more. This will not be the end. I will live. The sixthteenth carved his back in twain but he could hardly feel it. I will fight. The seventeenth blow struck, cutting again at the thoughts he had built up, but this time the pain glanced against a fortress of will. I will fight. His voice echoed in his mind as the eighteenth strike fruitlessly bashed against his mind. I will fight. The nineteenth I will not quit. The twentieth I will not cower. The twenty-first I will not surrender. The twenty-second I will live. The twenty-third I will be more. The twenty-fourth I will fight. His mind started to fade, black encircling his vision as liquid fire rained from the sky. Yes, We will fight. As his mind collapsed into darkness, deep within him a voice roared, screaming defiance into the void. He did what he could to roar with it. Chapter 3: The Light of Shore The sun pulsed in the abyss, overbearing against the void of distant stars even as it opened to reveal a great eye. The stars creasing and morphing to form a corona of light around the growing intensity of its golden orange iris. They Will Flee Before the Burning of the Righteous Sun. Wield the Sword. It was not a question, nor an order, but like a demand. It was a request, a request that rattled his bones in his asking and stretched his mind to understand. What was this thing? A more dangerous question crossed his mind. Why am I here? What is this place. Answer Andrew gave the only answer he could while looking into the radiant scar in the darkest of nights. ¡°Yes¡± No air escaped his lungs, but his answer was heard all the same. Good A ray of light slashed across the darkened abyss, splitting the black canvas as it traveled the distance between the Star and himself in an instant. Andrew BURNED ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For the third time in what seemed a day I thought to myself about just how far out of my depths I was. My consciousness slipped back into its normal resting place within the my body, just behind the eyes. These same eyes burned with a cold heat as I tried to opened them, a weight seemed to settle and pull them closed even as I fought to pry their coverings apart. A light greeted me, the lantern swaying in and out from behind the head of the man sitting above me, a look of concern on his face. ¡°Uhh, hello¡± I mumbled, still half caught in the dreary clutches of sleep and warm blankets. The mans gentle frown, slightly covered by his greying mustache, seemed to deepen from what I could tell from my half lidded vision. Shadows played at the edges of my vision, hypnotic and tempting, drawing me back to the realm of sleep. ¡°Wake up. The Captain told me to notify him when you woke. So stay awake while I am gone, you will be fine¡±. With that he stood and I squinted as the light that he had been blocking hit my eyes as he took a step to the right. The newly brightened room pulling me awake and making me want to be even less so. My body ached as I sat up. The only thing I could compare it to was when I ran from the Sydney Boys through the entire city back home. I was only tired and sore though, not in pain, so better than the times I hadn''t made it home. The man eyed me one more time before he turned to leave, opening the door and quickly shuffling into the hallway. It was only 10 minutes as well as I could tell before the Captain walked in bedecked in all the finery one might expect from a man of his station. I sat up as the door was quickly pushed aside. Captain Addison didn¡¯t look all to happy as he entered, his face darkened with a scowl. He looked around the room, pausing only a second on me, as if my presence barely was worthy of any note. The man behind him, one of the men that had stood behind him on the deck walked in after him, looking bored as he closed the door behind him and nodded to someone outside. ¡°You are awake far earlier than I thought you would be.¡± ¡°Ihh¡±. My mouth felt like a desert. I grabbed the water by my cot as the captain walked to take a seat. ¡°You are welcome.¡± An anger that I didn''t know I had lit in my chest. He expected a thank you. He just whipped me half to death, knowing it was wrong. I should kill him. My gaze shifted to his bored expression, his casual apathy for my suffering. I should rip his disgusting taint from the world and salt the earth where all the things he loved once stood. I would kill him. It would be justice. It would be vengeance. It would be right. He would suffer. What. I took a breath. Then another. Deep and slow. Calm, think. The anger in my chest dimmed as I quelled what had quickly become a blaze. Why would he expect a thank you? Why did he have a guard. I was basically bedridden, he should have no reason to be here. The only reason to have a guard would be if something was happening outside my small room. That must have been who the guard had nodded to, another trusted guard. Wait, someone both in and outside of my room. Were they guarding me? The hatred in the faces of the men on deck, even as I bled before their eyes. They wanted me dead, and there was disappointment when my punishment was announced. If the men onboard still thought I had killed someone then both the ostensible guard and the guard outside would make sense. ¡°Are you guarding me?¡± ¡°It was decided that your life was in danger after comments were overheard on the lower decks. You are in this room half to protect you and half to let you heal.¡± ¡°Why did you whip me¡± ¡°If I hadn¡¯t then this wouldn''t just be a precaution, it would be a necessity. Contrary to what most might think, as a Captain I try to keep my crew alive and loyal, this was simply the best way to achieve both.¡± I nodded, my thoughts seemed to be correct. My life was in danger and he had tried to appease his crew with bloodsport. It didn''t work and now he worried that they wanted more. ¡°But I hadn¡¯t done anything, why do they think it was me?¡± ¡°You¡¯re new, you¡¯re unknown, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time with a whole lot of blood on you.¡± I sighed, to most men that was enough to kill, both reality and fiction taught that lesson. Not that there was a lot he could do about it now. My options were limited as it was, it was best not to think about what I could have done better in the past. That hadn''t gotten me anywhere but where I was now, and if I didn¡¯t focus now there would be no time to do it in the future anyways. I sat up, my back oddly painless ¡°Sir, do I need to get offboard?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He nodded, grimacing. ¡°In all likelihood, yes. I cannot guarantee you safety without assigning you a guard, and that can only last so long. I would prefer to not deal with another murder, to many problems follow them, especially gruesome ones¡± ¡°What did happen¡± ¡°To put it simply a room was decorated with blood and organs of a victim who was quite beloved on board, he was the cook. He loved the sailors, making sure that they got the best food he could provide, and they loved him in turn, making sure that he was treated like a king. He was cut over a hundred times, but the cause of death was a puncture to the neck. I don¡¯t know how no one noticed, but the fact that we have no leads is very worrisome, especially with the influx of soldiers aboard¡± I shuddered, ¡°How did you know I didn¡¯t do it, it isn''t as though I could provide concrete evidence.¡± ¡°You were noted as the most likely suspect due to your appearance on deck covered in blood. This spread around the crew and very quickly they were hounding for your blood. I was informed by some less bloodthirsty sailors below deck that my chances of dissuading my crew from pursuing your death were low. It might have seemed bad on deck, but I assure you, there was a frenzy before I called for the faux trial. It was obvious once you started talking that you couldn¡¯t murder anyone, you didn¡¯t have the eyes for it. Your location was accounted for for the vast majority of the night, with the exception of the period between the finish of sunset and your finding about 1 hour later. You are two meek to kill anyone and in all likelihood you were knocked out but the transportation of your body below decks without being noticed was too difficult.¡± That made a surprising amount of sense. Who was that man that he had seen? Could that have been the murderer? Were my visions just hallucinations. That wasn¡¯t unheard of. I had heard my father talking with his friend Professor Ambel about the topic once, he had said that after a rattling of the brain, or as he called it, a ¡°concussion¡±, that the patient sometimes suffered hallucinations. Though he had said those were temporary and usually just after the hit. I didn¡¯t have any other symptoms though. My head felt fine beyond its typical pounding, and light felt, if anything, more energizing to me than before. If not a concussion than what else? I hadn''t been hit in the head before my whipping and I still heard the same voice. My dream, I had forgotten about my dream. The immense eye of a thousand burning stars. How could I forget that. ¡°Once we reach shore you will be summarily discharged and put into the care of my younger cousin, Captain Leopold Addison. You can do as you like, but I would recommend joining his company. He will allow it if I put in good word, but it will be my standing that will be at risk, and you must act accordingly.¡± He eyed me as if unsure of whether I could conduct myself with any sense of decorum, and slowly drawled out, ¡°Is that understood?¡± I sneered. ¡°Your confidence is heartwarming sir, I am honored that you would give me your personal recommendation¡±. He frowned. He was saving my life, but the condescension was unwanted and misplaced. There was one thing I hated above all, one thing that always pushed me to anger, and that was being looked down upon. The bite in my voice was crossing a line, I needed to calm down, it usually didn¡¯t bother me as much as it was. It was probably the stress. ¡°Well¡± He straightened, his voice a calm measurement of detachment. ¡°We will see shore within the hour¡± ¡°What!¡± I didn¡¯t know what time it was, but I couldn¡¯t have been out for more than a few hours. ¡°How long have I been down here?¡± ¡°It has been two days.¡± ¡°Two days? What happened to me.¡± ¡°You are correct in assuming that it is abnormal. At first there was worry that your wounds were more severe than was previously thought, perhaps aggravating an internal injury you previously sustained, but very quickly we were disabused of that notion when you back healed after the first night. No scars either, just smooth skin. It is unnatural. The men fear you are possessed by a demon. I don¡¯t want to believe that, but whether your healing is supernatural or a simple oddity, the facts remain the same, I do not want you on my ship¡± What in the world happened to me? Whatever it was I could deal with it afterwards. ¡°And the second day I just slept?¡± ¡°No, you burned up with a fever, though the physician noted that you displayed no other symptoms than the heat. Apparently you were hot enough that even after your back healed he still feared you would die. ¡®Scalding to the touch¡¯ as he put it, though I think he exaggerated a degree¡± ¡°Why are you here yourself? You could have just sent someone to tell me all this.¡± ¡°I certainly could have, but I felt the need to do it myself, call it guilt if you must. Your innocence I know, and though the punishment was necessary for your own safety, I still regret its necessity. With that, I apologize.¡± He suddenly stood, ¡°I have spent enough of my time here, you are free to leave this room, though I would suggest you not, and if you feel absolutely compelled to do so, then do so with caution. I must go prepare for our turn into the river. Get off the ship after we dock and wait near the landing. I will send you a guide who will take you to my cousin, good day.¡± With that he turned and walked to the door. He turned back just as the door opened, ¡°I wish you luck¡±. And with that he turned and strode into the hall, his guard following behind him. The door shut. I sat for a second, staring at the door, ¡°What the fuck is happening?¡±. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The last hour spent within the confines of the stifling room had been spent in thought. These dreams, if I could call them that, were real. They had to be. At the very least I had to believe I wasn¡¯t insane. To admit insanity was to question every thought, to look at my mind and see it fractured. Something was different, yes, but insanity, no. My personality hadn¡¯t changed, my morals remained the same, I could still look back on my life and remember my favorite passages and memories, my father and mother, my days spent in the corner of the shop beneath the open window reading whichever book caught my fancy. Would I remember these things if I was insane. Maybe - but thinking I was insane would do me no good. I already spent thirty minutes in an intense staring contest with a wooden plank across the room over this very issue anyway, and had nothing to show for it beyond my conclusion that, no matter what, I could not question my sanity. That led down a dark road of half-shadows and shifting perceptions which I could not return from. So it was real, the voice was real. This I knew for ¡°certain¡±. This thought may be scarier than me being insane, but it was nonetheless what I had to work with. What it was, I don¡¯t know. What it wants, I don¡¯t know. It had come to me twice when I was awake. Why it had done so, I wasn¡¯t entirely certain. But I had ideas. Heightened emotion seemed to be part of it, or a byproduct. Looking back I had been very happy and very scared before each, I didn¡¯t really know what to call it, but the word ¡°connection¡± was perhaps the closest word to what he felt. It was almost as though something was tethered to him. If he closed his eyes and simply sat, focusing wholly on his own mind in the void, he could only feel it, a flame deep within himself, guttered and low. It was within him, was him, and yet was distinct. A second aspect of it, seemed to be the surreal calmness that turned to understanding throughout both connections. Even this was difficult to put into words, but that feeling of lightness, of ¡°being¡±, it was something I couldn¡¯t not remember. Through reaching for the unknown beyond, one could see themselves amongst existence, could feel the connection they had with the rest of reality, could see the divine. And then came the connection. In reaching out I found something, something which now watches me, even as I think. I need fresh air. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I found my personal belongings below my bed, carefully folded and stowed. Someone had obviously been through them, but nothing seemed to be missing. I threw on a shirt which laid beside my pack. It was a clean white cloth, and obviously meant to replace my torn shirt. A jacket had also been laid over pants which were not mine either. After putting both on, I resolved myself, picked up my bag, and walked for the door. Squeezing between the rushing sailors and laughing soldiers, I made my way to the deck. No one seemed to have taken a particular notice of me yet, and I was hoping that would persist. It was hard to stay unnoticed with my height and gangly limbs, so I just kept my head down and tried to walk like I belonged there. I had failed to consider just how bad of an idea this was. I shook my head. ¡°Had to do it sometime¡± I murmured to myself. The lower decks passed quickly. No one seemed to be looking for me, though I did rush past a few sailors I remember from my whipping. A heat burned in my chest, anger flaring to life. I clenched my fists, not the time or place I reminded myself, taking a deep breath. I needed to get to the surface. Stepping onto the deck was a problem in itself. Men hung from the reefs of the ship and the netting along the side, dangling like monkeys while their counterparts below scrambled about pulling lines. I looked around. A group of men stood around the wheel, pointing into the distance before the ship and talking. I saw the Captain among their number. ¡°Land spotted Captain¡± came a shout from above. The ringing of a bell followed. Looking up I saw a man waving from the crowsnest, a spyglass in hand. ¡°Between port and bow sir, a few miles out.¡± Men continued to move about below, but all joined in a cheer before returning to their tasks. I walked to the portside edge, joined by a few idling sailors, to see if I could spot the fine line on the horizon that would be shore. The sea breeze blew as I looked out, ruffling my hair as I took a deep breath and looked out over the sparkling sea, a brilliant aquamarine reflecting the beautiful blue sky. I couldn¡¯t help but smile. It was all so incredible. No matter what came it would be okay. I looked to the sun, sitting in the clear, shining above all. I closed my eyes, the light streaming through my eyelids, its warm heat on my skin. The breeze refreshing and calm. My smile widened. A weight lifting from my shoulders as I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t known I had been holding. It would all be okay.