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Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
― Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
He wretched again, dry heaving mostly, as there wasn’t much left in his stomach. Even today, where the sea was calm and the boat's rocking was barely perceptible, he could still feel the knot of sickness in his gut.
“Aefter faef daes sus tu gyet saesic?”* his bunkmate asked, following a deep laugh.
Richard Sheridon took two deep breaths to calm his stomach. “I don’t understand,” he said weakly.
“I’m wondering why you’re still sick?” he repeated in Mercanti. “First time at sea?”
“I…” Richard paused to burp, getting another laugh from his bunkmate. “It’s been awhile.”
“You’ll get your sea legs soon. But your sea stomach may take longer” He slammed his palm down on Richard’s back and laughed at his own joke. Richard gagged again, but this time nothing came up. Really he only got sick in the mornings, and would usually feel better in an hour once he’d been moving around. Still he took a pill for the motion sickness, hoping it’d work faster.
He shaved, still feeling queasy, while his bunkmate went about his own morning routine. Richard was disgusted at how pale he looked, how sunken his eyes seemed. He thought he’d be having the time of his life, but so far most of his trip had been spent in misery. After he finished shaving he took some scissors, trimming his hair, which was already getting long enough that his natural curls were starting to show back up. It wasn’t a perfectly straight haircut, but he felt it gave him a bit of a roguish look and since his employers hadn’t complained yet he wasn’t going to waste part of his pay on getting the ship’s barber to do it.
“Come,” his bunkmate said, as they both donned their work uniforms, “Let’s get something to eat. It’s not good to throw up on an empty stomach.”
Braeggo Targaldsen was, if anything, a friendly face. Richard was glad they’d been assigned the same room. He was a stocky man, standing a head and a half shorter than Richard. He had long dirty blonde hair and a similarly long beard. Both of which he kept up in very neat braids. He was from Icenia, having proudly proclaimed himself an Esplandian the day they’d first met. “Jewel of the West,” he said of his homeland. “But now there’s a war and I have no interest in killing Kaludgarians.”
“Were you in the military?” Richard had asked.
“I’d been out for three months, but that just means I’d be the first one they’d recall. Where are you from?”
“Out east,” he’d answered. It wasn’t really true, but he didn’t want to get into the particulars of his family, and how his father had dragged them from country to country, most times illegally. So instead he lied. “The country doesn’t exist anymore. It’s hard to talk about.”
Braeggo had only nodded while giving him a sympathetic look.
But they’d been out to sea for a couple days and the Esplandian hadn’t brought the subject up again.
Braeggo led Richard to the crew galley, ribbing him a couple more times for his weak stomach. By time they got chow Richard’s stomach was feeling better and he ate a bowl of oatmeal and two eggs. Braeggo had been right about eating something and by time they were on duty Richard’s seasickness was a distant memory.
The Jade Princess was a cruise liner originating in Ascalon, sailing northward around Craviter before returning via the Meterran Sea. The cruise was two weeks long with nine stops in Iteria and Craviter. Richard wasn’t an experienced seaman so his job was simply cleaning up litter and mopping the decks. Braeggo was working as a porter below decks, so they wouldn’t see each other for the rest of the day. But the two of them would go above decks for a few minutes before they were expected on duty. Braeggo would smoke while Richard just watched the shoreline pass by to the portside. Sometimes it was just a hazy blue-green line on the horizon, sometimes it was close enough to make out features. Today though it was much closer as the ship rounded Kasu on their way to the channel between Fuss and Itlakan.
“So will you be jumping ship once we return?” Braeggo asked, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Sea life doesn’t agree with you.”
Richard just shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Me either. I thought this would be perfect. Having naval experience working on a civilian boat. But I can’t stand waiting hand and foot on the rich and snooty.” He finished his smoke, crushing the butt and putting it in the garbage. “Well, see you after my shift. Have a good one, Richard.”
Richard returned the sentiment, but took an extra few seconds to look at the coastline, before heading to start his own work.
Hymn to the Sea -James Horner
*Trans: You're still sick after five days?
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
― Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
He wretched again, dry heaving mostly, as there wasn’t much left in his stomach. Even today, where the sea was calm and the boat's rocking was barely perceptible, he could still feel the knot of sickness in his gut.
“Aefter faef daes sus tu gyet saesic?”* his bunkmate asked, following a deep laugh.
Richard Sheridon took two deep breaths to calm his stomach. “I don’t understand,” he said weakly.
“I’m wondering why you’re still sick?” he repeated in Mercanti. “First time at sea?”
“I…” Richard paused to burp, getting another laugh from his bunkmate. “It’s been awhile.”
“You’ll get your sea legs soon. But your sea stomach may take longer” He slammed his palm down on Richard’s back and laughed at his own joke. Richard gagged again, but this time nothing came up. Really he only got sick in the mornings, and would usually feel better in an hour once he’d been moving around. Still he took a pill for the motion sickness, hoping it’d work faster.
He shaved, still feeling queasy, while his bunkmate went about his own morning routine. Richard was disgusted at how pale he looked, how sunken his eyes seemed. He thought he’d be having the time of his life, but so far most of his trip had been spent in misery. After he finished shaving he took some scissors, trimming his hair, which was already getting long enough that his natural curls were starting to show back up. It wasn’t a perfectly straight haircut, but he felt it gave him a bit of a roguish look and since his employers hadn’t complained yet he wasn’t going to waste part of his pay on getting the ship’s barber to do it.
“Come,” his bunkmate said, as they both donned their work uniforms, “Let’s get something to eat. It’s not good to throw up on an empty stomach.”
Braeggo Targaldsen was, if anything, a friendly face. Richard was glad they’d been assigned the same room. He was a stocky man, standing a head and a half shorter than Richard. He had long dirty blonde hair and a similarly long beard. Both of which he kept up in very neat braids. He was from Icenia, having proudly proclaimed himself an Esplandian the day they’d first met. “Jewel of the West,” he said of his homeland. “But now there’s a war and I have no interest in killing Kaludgarians.”
“Were you in the military?” Richard had asked.
“I’d been out for three months, but that just means I’d be the first one they’d recall. Where are you from?”
“Out east,” he’d answered. It wasn’t really true, but he didn’t want to get into the particulars of his family, and how his father had dragged them from country to country, most times illegally. So instead he lied. “The country doesn’t exist anymore. It’s hard to talk about.”
Braeggo had only nodded while giving him a sympathetic look.
But they’d been out to sea for a couple days and the Esplandian hadn’t brought the subject up again.
Braeggo led Richard to the crew galley, ribbing him a couple more times for his weak stomach. By time they got chow Richard’s stomach was feeling better and he ate a bowl of oatmeal and two eggs. Braeggo had been right about eating something and by time they were on duty Richard’s seasickness was a distant memory.
The Jade Princess was a cruise liner originating in Ascalon, sailing northward around Craviter before returning via the Meterran Sea. The cruise was two weeks long with nine stops in Iteria and Craviter. Richard wasn’t an experienced seaman so his job was simply cleaning up litter and mopping the decks. Braeggo was working as a porter below decks, so they wouldn’t see each other for the rest of the day. But the two of them would go above decks for a few minutes before they were expected on duty. Braeggo would smoke while Richard just watched the shoreline pass by to the portside. Sometimes it was just a hazy blue-green line on the horizon, sometimes it was close enough to make out features. Today though it was much closer as the ship rounded Kasu on their way to the channel between Fuss and Itlakan.
“So will you be jumping ship once we return?” Braeggo asked, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Sea life doesn’t agree with you.”
Richard just shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Me either. I thought this would be perfect. Having naval experience working on a civilian boat. But I can’t stand waiting hand and foot on the rich and snooty.” He finished his smoke, crushing the butt and putting it in the garbage. “Well, see you after my shift. Have a good one, Richard.”
Richard returned the sentiment, but took an extra few seconds to look at the coastline, before heading to start his own work.
Hymn to the Sea -James Horner
*Trans: You're still sick after five days?
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