Soliquity of the Sea
The sea it sings a lonely song, of all our wants and hungers. It takes time to be able to hear it, time and loneliness, of which I, Therain, now have an abundance. My father was a man who could hear this song. Its sweat tune lured him away from home and family, out past the horizon, into the blue reaches of the waves beyond. He would visit our quiet village on the Dragon Coast from time to time, but the song of the sea was always calling him. When home he would either wander the shoreline staring with longing eyes at the blue vastness, or he would be ensuring all was well with what my mother called his second wife, his ship. A small and fast boat, the beautiful ship named Tranquil Freedom had a part of my fathers heart that she knew she could never touch. I was too young to know it at the time, but she hated that ship. My mother would worry about him horribly, since those were dangerous waters for a small ship. She would walk the same shore that my father did, mirroring the footsteps he had taken himself and staring with the same longing. It’s one of the few things I remember of her. Ironic really that she should worry so much for her husbands life, yet it was she who went to the hereafter first.
It was the first time I ever saw a pirate, and it haunts me to this day. A ship of brigands, desperate for supplies, had attacked our small village at nightfall. They took everything they could, then burned the rest. The men who hadn’t fled were slaughtered, while the women were horribly abused before their deaths. My mother had hidden me in a pile of nets, from where I could hear all too well the atrocities committed that night. The screaming of the dying and the tortured went on for hours. I lay in those nets, begging soundlessly that they would be silent. Eventually they were, yet the crushing loneliness of that all-consuming silence was no respite. For two days I lay those nets. I’m lucky I didn’t go insane, or perhaps I did and just don’t remember. The few ten-days after are a blur of despair and loss. Then father returned.
He was horrified by what he heard, but shed no tears for his departed wife. Perhaps he was relieved that nothing remained to keep him form the oceans that ruled his heart. Nothing except for me. The other villagers told him I was too young to be out at sea, but he refused to listen. Still realing from the loss of my mother, I was now faced with the loss of my home. The first few ten-days were hard. He allowed no leniency for his only living family, treating me as harshly as any crew member, perhaps even worse. The crew was small, and too old to be bothered forming a friendship with a boy who was still a child. There was general warmth from a few of them, but no true kindness. To them I was simply un-needed baggage. I learnt quickly, and surprised my father with my progress. Within a few months I was one of the most competent members of the crew, limited only by my age and size. I could sense my father was proud of me, even if he refused to show it. To the rest of the crew I became something of a mascot, yet still not a single one was a friend. Despite my abilities at sailing, there was still a distance between me and my father. He would stand on deck to watch the setting of the sun, during which time none of the crew would bother him. They said he understood the sea, that he could hear its song. I never understood, since I could not hear it myself. At his heart my father was alone, no matter how many crew shared the sea with him, yet it was that which enabled him to hear the song of a lonely sea, and understand its verse. I was still too young to understand the meaning of such loneliness.
When I was just beginning the growth pains of puberty, a dark and elderly man came aboard the ship. He was a wizard, and bore strange tattoos upon his skin. He was traveling to Sembia for reasons that none dared to ask. The crew avoided looking at him directly and constanly made signs to ward against bad luck. Only my father seemed unbothered by his presence, enamored as he was with the waves. The tattoos upon him intrigued me, as there seemed to be a pattern to them, a hidden secret within their shape. One day he caught me staring at them. At first he was annoyed at the invasion of his privacy, but then he noticed that my stare was not one of idiotic fascination, but one of contemplation. I had not the time to interact with him aboard the ship, as I was busy about my duties. Then the sea took a hand in shaping my fate. An unseasonal storm that seemed to strike from nowhere forced the ship to land at a coastal village. It was in waters with which my father was unfamiliar with, and the lighthouse warning of the rocks had been unmanned for years. While no-one was harmed when the boat ran aground, the Tranquil Freedom took a good sized hole to the hull. The crew made it to the nearby village where we for two days while the storm ran it course. My father did not sleep the entire time, and it was the best the crew could do to stop him from returning to his beloved ship. In the morning of the third day my father looked upon his striken lady as a man broken. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, and his legs seemed to barely hold his weight. It was more sorrow than he had shown for the death of his own wife.
The ship could be repaired, but in this village it would take ten-days, perhaps even months. The crew set about repairing the vessel at the direction of my father, as he took the responsibility of repairing the worst of the damage. I helped as best I could, as I had learned much about the building and repairing of ships under my fathers tutelage, but he would constantly redo anything I repaired because of some minor flaw that only he could percieve. During this time the tattooed wizard approached my father, requesting that he be given someone to aid him some work he was undertaking to pass the time. When my father agreed, the wizard specifically requested me. In those ten-days he gave me my first lessons in magic. I helped my father with the ship when I could, but the rest of my time was spent in the company of the tattooed wizard. To this day I am unsure why he did this, as he was a harsh and unforgiving teacher. Perhaps I was a curiosity, as I learned faster than he would have expected. Perhaps he was simply bored and it was the only way to pass the time. I was never sure, though the mix of pain and pride in his eyes, and an invisible weight upon his shoulders made me wonder if perhaps he was trying in some way to atone for something horrible in his past. The ten-days passed quickly, and we were back upon the ocean. The joy in my fathers eyes as the boat slid back into the water was painful to watch. I knew then how my mother had felt, overlooked for something she could never understand.
A ten-day later we arrived in Selgaunt. The tattooed man left the ship, and I never saw him again. During the few days while the ship was re-supplying a man in flowing robes with an ostentatious staff approached my father. I am not sure what they talked about but I knew at the time it was about me. I remember the shocked look on my fathers face when the word magic was mentioned. From that moment he would never look at me the same again. The man in the robes was the wizard Telamarco, and he was looking for an apprentice. I can only guess that the tattooed man had mentioned me to him. My father readily agreed to give me unto the care of this stranger. Before he set sail he told me how lucky I was, for those with magical talent had opportunities available to no other. He hugged me before he left, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I actually had a father. He promised me he would return, to see his soon as a man of greatness. I watched him waving from the deck of that boat, as it took him out to sea, and away from his son forever.
Telamarco was a competent wizard, but was an even more competent merchant. He peddled his magical wares to those who could afford them, while leaving the lesser magical duties to his new apprentice. Though he taught me some things, I was mainly left to learn by myself. I quickly learned I had a knack for evocation, and so concentrated on those areas that dealt with it. Telamarco found me a place to live in a cheaper part of town, but which was also a rougher part of town. Walking to and from the shop, I quickly learned the hard way to be on my guard. Many times I was barely spared a beating by the quick use of magic. I had my own room in the small building and it was there that a year later I met Darnoc. He was trying to figure out which room he was in, as the lady downstairs had simply given him a number, and Darnoc couldn’t count. He could have bothered her for better directions, but was too shy. I helped him out and showed him to his room, and in return he introduced me to the local tavern. We quickly formed a strong friendship, something neither of us had experienced before. We would frequent the taverns and keep each other out of trouble, and generally act like the young boys we had never had a chance to be.
Darnoc found it hard, however, as he could not find much work. His lack of intellect meant he could only find the dullest of work, and he felt he was meant for better things. At some point I mentioned about how other wizards had familiars, and how I really wanted to have one that was a white rat. White rats were rare in Selgaunt, which made such a thing almost impossible. A week later Darnoc presented me with Marcus, the creature that would become my companion. He refused to tell me how he acquired such an animal, and so I let it pass. During these times I had little need to go near the docks, though I still went, frequently at first, but less over time. I was waiting for my father to return as promised. I would stare out upon the ocean as my mother had all those years before.
Last modified January 12, 2005, at 02:50 AM by Bryan? |