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The wind jerked them to and fro, water lapping on the
ship's side. The Shoyru lowered the sails slightly and the boat began to calm.
He smiled.
"You finally controlled that thing, huh?"
asked a spiteful voice from behind. The Shoyru's smile vanished.
"As a matter of fact," he said, turning
to his Nuranna companion, Deague, "I had everything under control since we first
set off. If it wasn't for me --"
"-- then we'd have travelled twice across
Neopia already," finished Deague. "The legendary Seaveil hasn't been out to
see much, has he? Stop trying to be a cliché hero, Seaveil."
Seaveil, the Shoyru, frowned. "What's
wrong with taking a break to just admire the beauty of the ocean? The sky, the
sun, the clouds..." he trailed off, entranced by the pure sapphire sky displayed
above him.
"See, now that is why..." Deague
began, but he couldn't help but be frazzled by it, too.
It was a silent moment, the waves and
sweet zephyr whishing past them, carrying them smoothly along the water. The
wind was tranquil and calm, blowing gently across as they watched nature do
their things.
The sun and the air wafted over them and
emphasized Deague's intricate azure skin. Seaveil, meanwhile, had the light
warm his face. He was a grey-coloured Shoyru, with a pirate suit he had received
from a good friend. His wings were torn so he could not fly, but he didn't care.
Being at sea was enough for him.
A few minutes later, Deague snapped out
of the entrancement and continued, "As I was saying, Seaveil; the sky might
be pretty, but you certainly won't be after you stand there through a storm.
Anyway, I'm going downstairs and fetching some lunch."
"Sure," Seaveil idly said, turning reluctantly
away from the scene, to the steering wheel. The strange thing was, nobody was
steering, because the two had nowhere to go. They were wanderers, travelling
the world and discovering new things. However, Seaveil only discovered one thing.
Deague was a pain in the neck.
Nothing much happened for the rest of
the day, as Deague took his regular swims, tagging behind the ship as it sailed,
Seaveil scrubbing the dung deck, taking many breaks to watch the waves and everything
else. They, of course, ate, although they were devouring their supply of food
quite quickly, however little they ate each day. Soon, they would need to refill
their supply but there was no land for miles.
"Deague?" Seaveil called, hours later
in the lower floor cabin.
"Yes?"
"Is it just me, or is getting unusually
dark out here?"
"Maybe we've been staring at the bright
sun too long and everything looks dark," Deague said. "I don't think it's serious.
Maybe a minor storm, that's all."
Seaveil paused and stared at Deague. He
didn't seem like he was kidding.
"A-a storm!?" Seaveil stammered, taken
aback. "I don't like the sound of that!"
Deague sighed, turning round and looking
at the slightly darkened sky, where clouds began forming above them. "Pessimism
doesn't suite you, Seave. It's nothing too arduous, as long as the current remains
steady and there isn't any lightning."
The Shoyru wasn't sure what arduous meant
but swallowed his next few words, deciding not to pursue the conversation, and
leaned on the ship's outer wall. Taking a deep sigh, he stood there, staring
blankly at the ocean. Deague rolled his eyes.
"Do something productive for once, will
you? Practice swimming -- it wouldn't be good if you're a pirate and you know
nothing of swimming -- tidy up the ship? Construct a map? Write something? Draw,
perhaps? You must do something. Otherwise, I'm going to sing," the Nuranna
said crossly, "and that's not a very pretty thing."
Seaveil laughed, trying to imagine the
face on Deague's previous owner's, his friend Regraiy, face when his companion
sung, which was a tradition where he used to live -- in Nuage, near the heart
of Faerieland.
He used to live in Nuage with his cranky,
selfish aunt until Deague (who was wearing a pretty pink bow given by Regraiy,
Seaveil's only friend and fond memory of Faerieland) helped him free.
"Fine, I'll go and design some stuff,"
said Seaveil, going to the lower bunk of the auburn, wooden ship. He then added
with a smile, "Just as long as you don't sing."
"Aye. That's our Seaveil."
***
Seaveil looked at his roughly-sketched picture of his dream ship. Thirty metres
wide and four metres tall... it wasn't exactly in scale, but it was very good
in his view, nonetheless. He switched between his many pencils, which he had
never touched until today, once and a while, mainly because they kept on dropping
and he picked up different ones each time.
Deague hopped down the stairs and peered
at his shipmate's picture.
"Very good drawing," Deague commented,
"seeing as you never drew in your school. But awfully good even for a person
who has."
The Shoyru muttered his thanks in response
and looked at his drawing. He fixed it up, as Deague asked, "What does SSS stand
for? Stupidly Sarcastic Seaveil? Servile Starving Slaves?"
"For your information," Seaveil said defensively,
"it's S.S. Seaveil. On this ship, you get to live on the dung deck."
Deague laughed and took a quick glance
out of the window.
"Colourful..." he mumbled, then said aloud,
"Want to get some dinner, Seave? It's getting kind of late, and I don't know
about you, but I'm starving."
Seaveil raised his eyebrows, wondering
if Deague had seen something outside that made him change the subject so suddenly,
but did not say anything about it.
"Sure," said Seaveil, clambering up the
stairs after Deague. He was more than starving.
After their miniscule meal (they dared
not eat very much in case they run out of food supply), which took a mere few
minutes, the two wandered around their ship. They needed to get some fresh air
and more exercise. They walked back and forth, pacing along the perimeter of
their shining and clean deck, courtesy of Seaveil's wonderful ship-keeping.
"It's better to swim, though," Deague
advised as they plodded along. "More practice just in case an emergency occurs."
"Yeah," Seaveil said, his voice fading
as he stepped away from Deague, then came back, Deague walking past him. "I
don't think we should at this time and on the ship, though. You've done it loads...
Someone has to take care of the ship while you're gone."
Deague shrugged. "You're much better
at ship-tending, milord," he teased with a hint of sarcasm.
Seaveil managed a smile, slowing his pace
and glancing around. It was strangely quiet, with the exception of the thudding
from Deague's hopping along the deck, and the swishing ocean flowing beneath
them. He looked to the sky, as did Deague when he stopped. It was a touch darker
than it usually was at this time (they had traveled enough to memorize the usual
colour patterns of the sky), but it was possible they could have gotten the
time wrong, as they were without clocks and all.
Seaveil squinted and looked to the distance;
the sun was still up and the light was still sufficient. He could see a group
of triangular shapes overhead... peeks. Could they possibly be mountains? He
had hardly ever seen one, living in Faerieland for so long -- merely rumours
escaped the other worlds. These things also caught Deague's attention.
"Whoo!" the Nuranna said, scrambling around
the deck. "Mountains! Mountains! And land beneath it! It looks like a beach
from here."
"What's a beach?"
"A tropical place full of soft sand and
dazzling fruits and other wonderful things."
The Shoyru grinned. "Land ho!"
"Land ho!" agreed Deague.
The two watched excitedly as the scene
drew nearer. They could see a thicket of dark-looking shapes, which Seaveil
pointed out were trees. They hardly noticed a roar of thunder in the distance
and ignored it while they were entranced by the new sight. However, when rain
began beating on them, they snapped back into reality.
Seaveil was in panic, not knowing what
to do. He picked Deague up, who was having trouble balancing on the slippery
floor, and darted toward the cabin, which lead to the lower level.
The waves struck. Rumbles of thunder echoed
throughout the massive ocean, their boat rocking back and forth in the violent
water. The wind whipped against them, their boat, and their sails, which were
nearly torn from their ropes.
Deague and Seaveil hurried into the cabin,
soaking wet. Deague went to the window and peeked outside.
With the door of the cabin open, water
rushed inside and it was nearly flooded. Because of this, their ship began to
sink as it swayed. Seaveil clambered aside to close the door of it, though it
was trivial because of the gap between the door and the floor. He froze in fright.
Deague came after him, and too, stared at the object in front of them. It was
a tidal wave.
To be continued...
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