Reflections

Zeb’s consciousness clawed its way towards wakefulness, his body slowly responding to his attempts to stir, letting out a low groan as he pulls himself up to his side.  Looking around the cabin, his mind starts registering facts.  Bonie is gone, her bedroll already cold.  There is are noises of pounding, sawing...men and women already at work repairing Moodmaiden.  That Zeb slept through both Bonie’s departure and the general ruckus of repairs is not unusual as of late—he has been working himself hard throughout the day, nearly collapsing each night from exhaustion.  It’s the only way he can find sleep, the only way he can avoid the dreams.

Dragging himself from his own bedroll, Zeb stumbles over to a nearby table, picking at the remnants of last night’s meal before taking a long pull from his waterskin.  He hasn’t hunted in weeks—hasn’t needed to, as food was brought aboard daily from the kitchens of Fireshear.  Zeb walks over to his pack, withdrawing a small, round piece of mirrored glass, wiping the tarnished surface with his shirt before examining his own reflection, barely recognizing himself.  The frowning face that greets him looks old, tired, soft.  Too soft for these harsh lands, too soft for its winters.

Leaving their small chamber behind, Zeb climbs a narrow wooden stair to the deck of Moonmaiden to find Bonie.  There is commotion aboard the ship, Dame Azurris has hired what seems like a small army of craftsman and woodworkers, all with one goal in mind—to make Moonmaiden seaworthy again, and with haste.  What fire has been lit beneath the Moonmaiden’s captain is unknown, and while they haven’t spoken of it, Zeb assumes that their place aboard the vessel remains secured when Captain Azurris is finally ready to depart.  “Soon,” Zeb mumbles to himself.  “Just hope it’s soon enough,” he finishes in a whisper.

“What was that, old man?”  Bonie had managed to creep up behind him, unheard and unseen, though the wind to her back had given away her pleasant scent.

“Nothing,” Zeb lies.  “Just enjoying the morning air.”  She gives him a piercing, knowing look, almost as if she’s able to see directly into his soul.  That she has never recoiled at the darkness which surely lies within is comforting to Zeb.

“Dreams again?” she asks.  Zeb nods, knowing that nothing more need be discussed.  He had shared the content of his dreams, his ‘wolf dreams’ as she calls them, full of death and violence.  Sometimes focused, most times not, their intrusion since the group’s return to Fireshear has been most unwelcome.

“We should look for Selben today,” she continues, changing the subject.  The young mage had disappeared a few days after their return, and no one has seen him since.  Perhaps it was for the best...he had taken to making his gruesome figurines again, using dried sinew and bits of bleached bone washed up on the shore of Fireshear, and had been leaving them about Moonmaiden for the crew and workers to find.  It had many aboard Moonmaiden clearly disturbed, enough so that there were whispers that they were going to confront Captain Azurris about it.  

The men knew Selben’s craft and gave him a wide berth, so there was a palpable relief when it became clear that Selben was no longer sleeping aboard Moonmaiden, had stopped visiting altogether.  “Selben can take care of himself,” is Zeb’s reply, almost as if trying to convince himself the truth of that statement.  Bonie’s skepticism is evident.

“Fine, you win.  We’ll go look for him.  I’ll rouse the Tunterhorns, and we should see if Vonn and Audric have any business in town.”  Bonie seems pleased by Zeb’s change of heart, and leans in to kiss his cheek before disentangling herself and bouncing away to seek out Audric and the others.

As Zeb turns to return below deck and gather his things, there is a cry from the rigging above.  “Ho!  Watch below there!”  One of the workers had become tangled in the rigging, letting slip his box of tools.  A small hail of nails rains onto Moonmaiden’s deck, along with a heavy mallet which plunges into the deck with a sickening crunch.

Zeb flinches, reminded of a dream he had the first night upon returning to Fireshear, and the sickening sound of the ogre’s club crushing Dabria’s skull.  “Just hope it’s soon enough,” he grumbles one last time before turning away.