Blotted Ink with a Broken Quill

United States

14 years old.
Name of the Wind/Ranger's Apprentice/Dawn of Wonder/Legend/The Alchemist


Ed Sheeran.
Gaelic Storm.


Join Date: September 12, 2018

Message from Writer

I have found that what I put here before was very deep.
Just wanted to say hi.
So hello.

On the turn of a wind vein. #cliffhangerqueencontest

February 13, 2019


"It was a fine day for sailing. The water was a glass canvas painted without too much effort, and the artist had used a wonderful blue color.
'A storm is coming,' I heard from behind me. I swiveled, and saw Old Lieutenant Krauss. He was a man well past mid age, and he had thin, twig like arms and a sickly pale aura that was invisible, but that everybody felt. He had an earring, which he had said was given to him by his daughter. It was only made of dulled aquamarine, so I hadn't a need of taking it.
'Bah!' I returned. 'There ain't be a cloud in the sky today!'
'A storm is coming,' The man said again quietly.
I looked out at the horizon to make sure the I wasn't going crazy, and the sky was blue as a china set. The sky would change with the sea.
Every sailor in Elatria began to believe that the sky was blue from the sea, and the angriest waves sometimes lifted the foam of the ocean to the heaven's, creating clouds.
'Ya crazy lugger, there ain't a grey cloud in sight. Yeh think the kraken would throw us down its throat on a fine eve' like this 'un?'
'Yes, Bartholomew, I do,' said the man 'For a famous sea captain, I am surprised that you do not see the sign in the air. If you look at the sails, they are not blowing in the same direction as before, and they are not coming from the right direction. Southeast to South, and Ceres has made her whisps far into the sky. The weather is warm, and it is monsoon season. What more proof do you need, captain?'
Near the end, he began to sound exasperated. Probably trying to save his own hide by going back to Persia. Ha! The thought of it. My 'personal' advisor was an honorary prisoner.
Some other captains who I had known previously, who had been a step to drunk a few years back—now dead to the hand of yours truly—had verbally scandalized me for not fully understanding the weather, but what did they know? By the look of the sky, I doubted this warrior turned prisoner was telling the truth. What could a land captain understand?
Dear reader, assuming that you have read at least a single book, you know exactly what will entail, but at least pretend to be surprised when the storm hits.
The voyage continued on for about fifteen minutes before dark storm clouds rushed over the sky, racing to see who could cover the most ground.
The ocean began to froth, as if wanting to play with the racing clouds. Suddenly, the entire deck was in chaos, and men were slipping and yelling.
 'We're in the middle of the damn beast! Batten down the hatches!'  I yelled over the screaming storm, which had indeed decided we didn't deserve to live. Damn Krauss! The idiot. I'm not exactly sure how I came to the conclusion of the man being an idiot, but it felt better to blame someone else.
    "Raise the rigging, Charlie, and triple speed if you want to live, you blubbery dog!
Leeland! Why the hell are the barrels untied! Go yeh mangy scallywag!
The rest of you, maybe you could... DO WHAT YOU'RE DAMNED SUPPOSED TO!"
Krauss, where from his spot behind the first mast, tied to the second, could see the entire scene quite clearly, sighed. He almost wanted to say 'I told you so,' but he didn't feel there was a need.
He quietly made a small prayer—to the rest of the crew, he didn't look like he was praying for survival, no. He wasn't hunched and didn't look at all nervous, but perhaps even a spark rebelious. He wasn't praying for himself, but for his family. He was a man who knew that he hadn't a hope in the world for life, so he thought he could live his last moments in peace and love. \
Krauss watched the captain screaming orders at his men, which in Krauss' point of view, was his main—and possibly only—talent.  Krauss could see the man slipping—not on the wet deck—but from his confidence. Krauss knew the captain knew they were going to die.
Krauss had never been religious, no, he would consider himself a not-very-dedicated-philosopher. He simply thought that not everything humans did would be left unchallenged by the untamed beast of the world called, 'Nature'.
The gray sky, at least to Krauss, was but its way of saying, "You are not the only ones on this place you call Earth."
But this was not a time for musing over philosophy for too long.
Instead, Krauss, while being heavily rocked by the boat, splashed by salty spray, and assualted by a cocophany of noise, decided to stare out into the black sky beginning to brim with stars, which would undoubtedly make the stage for the moon. He could almost hear it whisper.  
Captain "Goldman" Bartholomew knew they were doomed. Maybe he even knew it from the beginning of this god curséd voyage. 
Lightning came down with a massive uproar and shattered the second mast, setting it alight. But before it could burn, the post gave way, sending it tumbling into the sea along with the Lieutenant. Bartholomew saw the mast hit the water, and a wave enveloped the once strong sail holder.
He did not mourn the death of Krauss, no, but the mast was missed very much so. It was the one thing that gave him a sliver of hope, and now the hope had vanished.
Another wave was coming to batter the ship, and with the resolve of either an incredibly brave man, or an idiot—but probably both— Bartholomew went to the front of the deck and yelled at the ocean, cursing its unfair waters and ugly beasts and murderous tides and vicious rocks.
Then, in an impossible odd, the storm seemed to lessen, and then, it just stopped. In the noise of screaming men—one very surprised screaming captain— and a storm, everyone and everything went quiet. Dead quiet. The silence was so quiet that time seemed to slow down for the men and the falling droplets, until time had frozen; but of course no one noticed. 
The sky was still dark, the water too. Nothing made a noise for minutes. Everyone let out collective breath in the calm darkness, and broke into scurrying around and tying things down . They did this mostly because they had no idea what was going on and they needed to do something.
Then, one man broke the silence of work.
'Gods help us,' The man whispered in terror and dead certainty.
Bartholomew rushed over to him. Not caring for words, the man simply pointed down into the glassy ocean with his trembling hand, and the captain paled at the sight of-..."

    [[Diary report found: -=May 26, 1943=- Location: "Bandar 'Abbas"]]
    [[Found by: -=Iliad Diving Company™=- Found on: Skeleton, with earring clasped in fist, made of Aquamarine]]


See History

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