Autumn Harvest, Trader’s Day 19, Year of the Lion number 427; October 8, 1738 Agathon
Now I know what Second Mate does.
I watch. More than what I’d been doing before – I don’t just watch the seas for dangers, ships, or lands, but now I watch everyone. I help Mak, the First Mate, set up the duty schedules, and when there’s a gap, I have to step in and do the job.
Suffice to say, I haven’t been getting much sleep. Nor have I had time to write in my journal. I’m making time. It’s presently early morning. The sun is still low to the east, off to starboard. We’re still on course to Scone, and, so far, there’s been no sign of other ships – pirates or otherwise. It feels like we have the ocean to ourselves. Captain Silverkeep is still recovering from his wounds, having declined magical healing from Xyrlina. Most of the crew is back up to full health, though. Hadaus lost an arm in a sword fight and Tacamud lost the lower part of his leg when it was crushed between the ships. Apparently this is beyond Xyrlina’s skills.
She did tell me that this sword, formerly the pirate captain’s blade, enhances fighting ability and is magically sharpened. She thinks it might have been forged with adamantium, a mystical metal that only some dwarves know how to work. She says she’d recognize mithral, and this isn’t mithral. Unfortunately, I’ve never been trained in sword fighting. I offered it to Captain Silverkeep, but he prefers his axe. Mak said it is a captain’s or a hero’s sword. Even if I don’t use it in battle, I should carry it with honor. Either way, I did spend the time to record it in my other book.
So, here I am, piloting the Outlaw Girl, writing in my journal, watching the sun rise. The gentle rocking of the ship as it traverses the waves is relaxing and mesmerizing. In the distance, I see a pod of dolphins playing. Northeast there’s a line of clouds, but it doesn’t look like one of the seasonal storms brewing. I turn to the west to see the last of the nighttime stars wink out.
Seeing them fade reminds me how my life has changed over the past few months. How long has it been since I made that fateful decision to leave home? I flip through my journal, thankful that the memories of the friends I made are forever enshrined. I wonder, as I always seem to do, what’s in store for me next?
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