April 794

April 6th, Imperial Year 794.
I know it has been so long since last I wrote, but as tenants have come to the Swallows Nest the work has become such that I have never known. I admit that the moment I enter my room I am asleep. I never remember to light the lamp, let alone write.

There have been three to take residence here. The pastor and his wife, as they wait for the church to be finished. They plan to live in an attic space above the back room. The other is a fisherman who seems to have made this his home, as his boat is small, and he has no intent to build anything permanent. Rosalie and I cook all three meals, and for a fee Rosalie has offered to tend to the laundry. Also, we do the cleaning.
It is exhausting. And with the weather getting cooler, we have the fires to maintain, the lamps to refill, as she and Alder couldn't afford to have the lines put in, as my father has. And the lamps to light, dim, clean. The stove is not gas, but wood, so we must split wood for cooking, and to heat the main dining room and common spaces. Only the bedrooms have gas furnaces. And my attic has nothing, but the kitchen flue passes through and does well to heat the space. Alder is at the dock from dawn to dusk, as the birding house is not yet able to entirely support its self. All the work, from the wood to patching a small leak in the roof of the washroom in the back, is left to Rosalie and I.

I only have the energy to write now because I was so tired that I fell into waves of sobbing that I couldn't control. I did my best, I truly did, but no amount of effort could contain the near hysteria that I had fallen victim to. It was shameful and humiliating. The poor old fisherman couldn't take the tears and he offered to split the wood and stack it in the kitchen corner if I would wash his trousers next week, that I could get a little rest. Rosalie agreed, so here I am.

I think that in a moment I will return to the kitchen. I know that Rosalie is perfectly capable without me, that I am hardly useful, but I feel I must earn my way. I will not live off their kindness.



April 9th, Imperial Year 794.
Alder had planned to go to Ganderu today for supplies, as there are none here in swallows cove, and the selection in Eaux Reves in limited. He was back after only an hour and a half, saying that I needed to return to the Caged Crow, and that he would wait for me.

He is speaking to Rosalie in a hushed voice now. I cant imagine what could have happened.



April 10th, Imperial Year 794.
Upon seeing the port at Eaux Reves I felt that horrible sinking in my gut. The baccarat ship, just one, was anchored. Its sails bound loosely, not with the normal care, and the damage was obvious, even to one as oblivious as I.
Alder glanced over at me with concern, but he never spoke a word. Rosalie had begged to come, and that Pastor and his wife offered to tend to things, so Alder agreed. She was clinging to my hand so hard I feared it would have broken had I loosed my own death grip on her.

I made my way into the common room of the Caged Crow. Quin was sitting on a stool, his head down. I asked where the crew was, but he only pointed to the stairs.
The entire inn was silent, cloaked in a darkness that was all too familiar to me. The halls smelled of blood. Of death.
I tapped gently on Birdy and Lana's door, not sure what to expect.
Birdy opened the door a crack, and seeing me her expression flitted between fear and relief. She opened the door the rest of the way and waved me in. Lana was laying on the bed, her arm bound tightly against her chest, and a bandage around her head. She smiled weakly when she saw me, whispering a greeting. Birdy quickly hushed her, begging her to take it easy. and ushering me back into the hallway. She was limping.

She told me that they had been ambushed just outside of the port at Ganderu. That the Yin had sank, and that they almost hadn't managed to limp the Yang this far, that they had lost a third of the crew so far, and that of those who survived the trip to Eaux Reves, she wasn't sure how many would be able to set sail again. That Lana was likely never going to be able to sail as she had before. The damaged done to her was such that should she put any lifting or other strenuous activity she was likely to damage what remained of her lung, and that there was shrapnel in her chest that they would never be able to remove, that she was bound to the land from this point onward.
I asked if Lana knew, but Birdy shook her head. She said she wanted to be sure that she was not going to injure herself when she cried, but that I didn't need to worry about that.
She said that Eleana had taken sick and had been unable to stand to fight, so her injuries were limited to her pride, But that Adrien had lost an eye. and Damien was suffering from multiple injuries, but it seemed that he would recover.
Darien, who had often accompanied Adrien in song, and was a most wonderful story teller had taken a bullet to the head, and was laid to rest, given to the goddess of the sea. and so many other names, that she listed as gone. Sleeping, she said, below the water in the Goddesses Cradle.

I could feel my knees weakening as she asked me to wait while she got Eleana, that it was important that we spoke.
The feeling in my stomach was that of the night the doctor asked us to say our good byes to Mother.

Eleana came into the hall, and put her hand on my shoulder leading me into Farrons room. He lay on his bed pale and silent. I could see the blood oozing through the bandages. His breathing was soft and irregular. I could feel my heart drop to the floor, and it is still there, beside him. I was to broken to speak. I looked at Eleana hoping for answers. She only motioned that I follow her back into the hall.
As if I was a puppet I walked out, standing and staring at the door as it closed, blocking my view of the room.

She said that he had an open wound that ran from his shoulder to his hip, across his body. that they had done their best to close it, and that the doctor here in Eaux Reves was caring for him, but that it would be several days before we knew if he would live, let alone if he would recover. She asked that I send word to Ghost, that she needed to know that her brother was in critical condition, and the casualties of the crew.
I asked if I could go myself and bring her back. She agreed.

I fear that leaving his side, I will return to find him cold. I am writing as we drive back to Eaux Reves. Ghost is asleep on the seat beside me. I told her only the facts, and did not try to describe what is waiting. So far she is calm, and she seems to be able to sleep, but I have learned that that is her way of shutting out the world, to simply close herself off.

I will tell you more after we get back to the Crow.



April 10th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron is feverish and his wound still hasn't seemed to stop bleeding, but he is still with us, so that is a blessing. Birdy is refusing to eat, and wont leave Lana's side, I fear the guilt of keeping the truth from Lana may kill her.

Ghost fell to the floor upon seeing Ferron, and has not said a word, not has she stood, she eventually crawled to the foot of his bed, and has not moved. Damien brought pillows and blankets, and has placed them as a nest about her, thought she didn't seem to notice. Rosalie and Alder have returned to Swallows Cove, but have offered to do anything they can, we need only call them. I am having trouble staving off sleep, but also cannot find peace enough that my mind can rest. I am laying down now, and praying that the Sea Goddess will not call Farron away.



April 11th, Imperial Year 794.
I somehow managed to fall asleep, though it was far from restful.
I dreamed of the lady in Ganderu, the one who had given me the shell charm. In the dream I begged her to tell me the future, to tell me if Ferron would survive.
She looked at me with those strange golden eyes and whispered. At first I cold not hear her, but what I do remember is haunting me even in this moment as the sun creeps through the window.

"A child he is, and he is my child. Today he will rest, but not slumber. His days may be many far beyond yours, but with the burdens he would bear, perhaps a kindness would be to allow him final peace. Freedom from the future and the spirits that will haunt him. He is a child of the sea and must never be fettered, for bondage would be his death. A death of the spirit. Death of the soul. His  true curse would be that he live."

I asked her what she meant, What curse she could be talking about, but she shook her head and walked down the beach, placing a strange stone under the trees where I sit to paint and then walking into the waves. I called out to her one last time, but she vanished. Her voice echoed back, resounding from the sea its self.
"No answers are stone, for the future is ever changing. The only constant is that children are born, and children must die. You will someday join me, child, and sleep among the waves. Both you, and he, but not today. You still have a destiny to meet. You still must find his Grace."

When I woke the room was silent, but I felt as if someone else was there.
I think I will take a walk later. I know it was only a dream, but I need to know if there is actually something under the trees. I just want to be sure Ferron and Ghost are well first.



April 11th, Imperial Year 794.
Eleana and I took a walk shortly after lunch, she was feeling ill again, and hoped that the cool air would calm her. I managed to lead her to the edge of town, to the place in my dream, and she decided that that is where she wanted to rest.

My friend, I saw something to day I never could have imagined. She put her head to her knees and she cried. Bitter, sorrow filled tears filled the cold air as she wept. She cried for each of her cremates that was lost. She cried for Lana, for the future that she no longer has. For Birdy, and Ghost, who are tirelessly holding vigil beside their loved ones. For me, for my heart that I had given to Farron, and the friendship that I had formed with her fallen brothers.

And lastly she wept from fear. Fear that Damien would take another job, and that she would be forced to raise a child on her own. That her master was the sea, and that it would claim her, ad her child would never know her. That her own child would be a sailor, and that to her, that was the most terrifying reality of all, that the Goddess would enslave her child.

Once she had calmed I began to look around, curious to find the stone from my dream. To my surprise it was tucked neatly into the roots, a smooth blue stone. One that was as cool as the ocean, and a blue green color that seemed to shift as I stared at it. It was small, fitting perfectly in the palm of my hand.

By now Eleana had gained her usual composure and we began to walk back towards the Crow. Now all of her rambling was starting to sink in, and as if she knew my thoughts she stopped. I turned to look at her, and her face was dangerously calm. "Genna, I cannot express my appreciation for your support, but if you say a single word, about my weakness, or my pregnancy I will kill you."

Eleana is pregnant!



April 12th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron cried out in agony sometime during the night. Ghost was to her feed and beside him before I could find the floor. I don't think she has slept the for even a moment. She demanded that I bring cold water and fresh bandages.
Without hesitation I obeyed. I hadn't the slightest idea what was happening, or even where to acquire such things, but I  had to act. I rushed to the foot of the stairs and nearly crashed into Quin. It seems that the cry woke him, and as if to remind me of the urgency of the situation another desperate cry broke the still night.
I begged to know where to get the requested supplies, and he hastily agreed to help me, leading me back to the kitchen.
I was at the door to the room when the next cry broke the night, summoning Adrien and Damien from their quarters. I could see Eleana looming in the shadow of her husband. I pushed into the room trying not to lose even a drop of the precious water.

Ghost had already wrapped an apron about her, and had produced gloves, though I know not where from.
"You are going to help me." She demanded, passing me the gloves. O shook my head, not knowing what I could possibility do.
"Help me." She repeated with urgency. "Put on the damn gloves and help me!"
I somehow managed to stutter my uselessness, but she only shook her head and repeated that I put on the gloves. I obeyed numbly. I couldn't imagine what I was supposed to do.
What happened next, well, I will do my best to describe this in detail. She shouted that anyone listening run for the doctor, but there was limited time.
She was cutting away the bandage handing the bloody ones to me to put to the side.
She looked at me, meeting my eyes with her icy blue stare, and her words sent chills like none I have ever known.
"Genna, I have only ready and seen models. I have never done this either, but if you trust me like never before, we might pull this off. If we don't, he'll die. If we wait, he'll die, either way we are fucked. Do you trust me?"

I nodded, did I have a choice?

She gave her requests and instruction in short demands. Get hot water. Get a candle. Get a towel and try and bring down the fever. Heat the blade, pinch this, pull that, thread this. THe words came in a blur, and I followed blindly and without thought.

Before I could think my own thoughts she had opened the wound on his chest, and pulled shrapnel from within the tissue. Had it not been for the fear and shock I was in already I surly would have fainted, taken ill, or more likely both!

Each piece she removed she passed to me, then demanding the strongest clear liqure in the building. Within seconds someone had delivered, she took a quick swig from the bottle and offered to me, upon my refusal she shrugged and turned it to the bloody bandages, using it to blot away at the open wound.

"He was going into shock. I don't understand why he would be stitched up in this condition, but I cant leave it this way." She hissed. Motioning for me to change the towel that was supposed to be bringing down his temperature. "If you can get him to swallow, have him drink the rest of the bottle. He needs to stay unconscious." She thrust the bloody bottle at me.

I was at a loss, and tried to object. One glare from her and I silently tried to drip it between his lips. He didn't seem to take it. Ghost seemed more frantic, as she paused to measure his heart. Suddenly she pushed me back and pressed down on his chest with all her strength, two, three, four times, counting each beat as she pressed before pressing her lips to his and blowing with all her might.

"Genna, Damnit. Now isn't the time to panic. Breath for him!" SHe demanded as she repeated the cycle, two, three, four, and then pinching his nose and filling his lungs with hre breath.
"Genna, now!" She demanded. I stumbled to the head of the bed, not even the slightest sure what I was to do.
She repeated the cycle once more, this time careful to show me, and then moving back to pressing his chest in. I bent and imitated her, the taste of blood filled my mouth as I pressed every last breath of air I could into his body. And then I realized what had happened. He was gone, his breath was gone. His heart was quiet. She was his heartbeat, and I was his breath. It was our effort, and only that, that was imitating life. He was burning with a cold fever. There was nothing left to burn. Ghost urged me to keep going, she promised he wasn't gone yet, that there was still time.

I nodded, breathing on each fourth count, forcing life into a body that had given up.
I could feel the tears burning my cheeks, but I could cry, I had to breath deeply and evenly. He had to live.

Her voice was beginning to tremble as she counted aloud, One, Two, Three, and then he coughed.

"Turn his head." she demanded, motioning me back, and gently shifting him slightly to his side.

She squatted down beside him for a moment, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist and leaving behind a bloody streak that shown brightly against her white skin.
She was crying, I could see the tears shining from her cheeks. Though her voice seemed calm and certain as she demanded another bottle.
As his breath evened out she shifted him back and began stitching the wound carefully, taking care to ensure that the wound remained clean.

As she re-bandaged his chest and stood, she turned to me, her face grey, and asked if I could please walk with her. She left the gloves and tools in the bowl that we had used for cold water, and poured the rest of the alcohol in with them. Then she walked out the door.
I followed as she grabbed her coat off the hook where she left it when she first left for Ganderu, and paused, recommending that I take Ferrons coat.
With that she lead the way down to the waters edge and around the side of a berm and began to strip. I must have made an audible gasp because she shot me a nasty look and stated that if I wanted to smell like blood I could sleep outside.I numbly followed, horrified by what I was about to do.
As she slipped down into the water the moon shown against her colorless skin, and illuminated the scarring on her forearms, reminding me of the event that created the friendship we now share. But what caught my attention was the scarring across her back, and the back of her legs.

I tried to ask her about them, but my words came out broken and shaky. She sighed as she slipped into the water, and stated that it was the way her sire and madam made sure she never forgot them. I was shocked and mumbled that I can't imagine a mother or father doing that to any child. She scoffed and said that the woman who sold her bode didn't deserve to be called a mother, and that the man probably wasn't her father, as her mother was a s**t anyways.

I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. I slowly waded out into the frigged water, letting the fresh smell of the ocean wash away the sweat and blood.
Ghost laughed, saying that if I wasn't ready for the dark truths of the world I should stop asking questions.

After that we bathed in silence. Using the coats to make our way back into the room where Ferron was now peacefully sleeping. His breath deep and even, though his face was still colorless. Someone had cleaned the room while we were away, and there were fresh cloths lay across Ghosts bed. Only the bowl of tools remain. The doctor was waiting in the hall to talk to Ghost, so as soon as we had dressed she slipped back out the door. There alone in the candlelit room it all hit me. Everything that had happened. Ferron had died, and we brought him back. I had assisted a surgery. And I was exhausted.
I don't remember Ghost coming in. I don't remember the night turning to day. I don't remember the sounds of the bells announcing the change in the tide, or the shouting of the ship that docked during the morning.
And I don't think Ghost does either. I woke up about one in the after noon, with Ghost snuggled tightly against me. The doctor was sitting on a chair beside Ferron, reading and guarding the three of us.

I would write more, but I am still tired from the events that I have just recorded. Ferron is still sleeping peacefully, and Ghost has just woken, so I am going to take my turn resting.



April 13th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron woke today. He opened his eyes and tried to speak. No words came out, and he coughed at the effort. Ghost was by his side in moments. She demanded water and immediately took to counting the beats of his heart and the depth of his breath. I never have made the trip faster from the water spout to the side of his bed, and we carefully lifted him so that he could drink. As he has been in a state of unconsciousness for several days I imagine he was parched, and he took of the water gratefully, and with such speed that he nearly choked.

As he finished the last for drops he gasped out a request for more. Ghost shook her head and said he needed to let it set for a moment or two. He pouted, unable to object. After a few minutes she offered him more as I carefully lifted his head and shoulders that he could drink.
How Ghost is so steady I don't know. My own hands were trembling so that I would surly have dropped the glass.
After the second glass he seemed to be finding his voice and was asking for food. His fever was still burning, but was much lower than it had been. Ghost shook her head at his request, ordering him silent with a soft firm voice. She asked me to fetch the weakest broth that Quin had, and a bottle of a clear alcohol, as she intended to change the bandages before he was allowed to eat.

He cried out is pain as she pulled the bandages away carefully. I found that whatever force was with me last night was gone and I couldn't look at the jagged wound that was cutting across his chest and oozing small amounts of blood. I took his hand and shifted to watch his face, trying to draw his attention away from his pain. It was near useless, and I was certain he was going to break my hands as he squeezed them, trying to control the pain. I could see it shooting through him, filling his eyes with tears as Ghost carefully cleaned the wound and wrapped the bandages back around his chest.

Once the pain seemed to have subsided we carefully lifted him again, allowing him to drink the broth. The events seemed too much for him, as he was asleep no sooner that we lay him back into his pillow.

He is alive, and though I dare not imagine tomorrow, I feel the faintest light of hope.



April 14th, Imperial Year 794.
His fever rose again last night. We tried giving him cool water and putting a cold cloth on his head, but it didn't seem to help. He was writhing in pain, and from the expression on Ghosts face, there was nothing that could be done to help, I sat on the edge of his bed taking his hand. I knew there was nothing that I could do, but I couldn't just watch him suffering.

It seemed like years, or maybe time was still, I don't know. I just wish there was something I could do.



April 15th, Imperial Year 794.
He has been unconscious since last night. We managed to get him to take some broth, but only very little, and he didn't seem to realize it was us. It's as if he is an empty shell.



April 16th, Imperial Year 794.
He asked for water today, but I am not so sure that he was conscious when he requested it. I wish the fever would break. Ghost needs to return to her studies, and I have become numb to the smell of blood and sickness that hangs in this room. I am going to rest now, if sleep will come.



April 17th, Imperial Year, 794.
We managed to get him to take more broth, and he seemed to recognize us today, but it was only for a few minutes before he faded out again. Ghost said that she will return to Ganderu as soon as his fever breaks.

I visited with Lana for a little while. They still have not told her that she will not set sail again. She is feeling hopeful and says that the pain in her chest is nearly gone. She hopes she can be up and moving about soon. Though she is worried about the numbness in her arm.

I assured her that there was still hope and slipped out. I can't stand that she so strongly believes that she will be able to join the next Baccarat run.
 I asked the doctor about Lana when he was making his rounds. He said that he as concerned that if he had opened her up to remove the rest of the shrapnel then it would have put her life at an even greater risk then it already was, and that the damage to her arm meant she may never have use of it again.

I can't imagine what could have caused this much damage. Is this what Pirates do? Is this the destruction they cause?

No wonder Father was having such trouble with them.



April 18th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron spoke today. He actually asked for a glass of water, and he seemed to be conscious. It wasn't a desperate barley coherent mumble. It was a clear soft request.
I knelt at the edge of his bed helping him lift enough he could sip at the water. He smiled at me when he had finished, lifting his hand to run his fingers across my cheek. I could tell by the way he knit his brows that it pained him, and I took his hand. He smiled and closed his eyes. Those dark eyes that I had so totally fallen in love with.

He whispered a thank you, and slipped back into a troubled sleep.

Maybe there is hope.



April 19th, Imperial Year 794.
His fever broke today! He broke into a sweat, and when he was awake he was coherent and seemed to actually follow the conversation, though naturally he didn't contribute.
He actually asked us to help him sit so that he could drink without assistance, and as his wound seemed to have closed completely, Ghost agreed.

She said that unless he regresses that she plans to return to Ganderu in two days time.

Ferron seems as though he will be fine. Oh such sweeter words I have never wrote.



April 20th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron seemed stronger today, and actually managed to sit with very little help. He is dehydrated, and nearly starved, but he is alive and the fever has not returned.

Likewise Lana has been moving about the inn, and has been eating everything in sight (and drinking every time Birdy looks away).

Ferron was furious at Ghost when she refused him a solid meal and insisted he have a thin porridge. It was such a relief to hear his thick angry brogue cursing at her, and her smart witted remarks. Never have I doubted they were sailors, nor have I questioned the meaning of the reference.



April 21st, Imperial Year 794.
It has been raining for most of the day, so Ghost is delaying her journey. She says if it has not stopped by nightfall she will leave tomorrow first thing, no matter the condition of he weather. I sat in the common with Eleana for a long time, making small talk and avoiding mention of her pregnancy. She won't be able to hide it for much longer, as her stomach is starting to swell.
I wanted to be sure that Ghost and Ferron had the time they needed to talk.
After a long time Ghost came down and curled up on the bench under the stairs and was asleep nearly as soon as her head was on the seat. I took her coat and lay it across her and slipped up into the room hoping that Ferron was asleep. The truth was that I was every bit as tired as she was. As I pushed the door open the room was dim, the curtains drawn nearly closed, and only a narrow strip of the grey sky was visible letting a single beam of light cut across the room.
His voice was soft as I slid my stockings off, asking my to come to his side. I started, as I had truly thought he was asleep or I wouldn't have let myself to my under dress. Awkwardly I crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed, sliding my hand in his. He pulled me gently down into his arms, and shifted towards the opposite edge of the bed. Not sure what I was supposed to do a let him pull me close, and then all the pain and fear, and the shear exhaustion hit me like a storm and I cried.
He pulled me closer, turning me to face him and burying his face in my hair. I don't know how long I cried, or how long he held me, running his fingers through my hair.

I had thought I had lost him. I had thought he was gone. And the incredible relief I felt at his recovery was more than my poor heart could take and it burst. I fell asleep in his arms, and slept the rest of the day and well into the night. I slipped into the kitchen to write this now, by the light of the stove.

He was sleeping peacefully, and I feel it is best that I return to my own bed.
Good Night, my dear, dear friend.



April 22nd, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron woke not long after I had returned to my own bed, and was reading when the light of the candle light woke me.
He smiled as I looked across at him. I suppose he knew what I was thinking because he whispered that he actually did enjoy a good story, that he had several titles stashed under his bed. And that I needn't worry, because he wasn't feeling any discomfort despite having been moving around.

I nodded and started to lay back into my pillow when he asked if I would join him. I nodded and tiptoed across the room, sliding in next to him. He lifted the blanket, inviting me to share. He put his arm around my shoulder and rested his chin on my head as he slowly turned the pages. I was starting to drift back to sleep when he sighed and closed the book. I looked up concerned but he met me concern with a smile ad pressed his lips firmly against mine. He asked if I would stay the whole night beside him. I couldn't find the words to answer, but he didn't seem to notice, as he turned my face up and again kissed me.

We stayed like that most of the night, eventually sliding down to allow for sleep, his arms wrapped around me as if he was scared to let me go.
Finally, as we were just drifting off to sleep, he whispered that he remembered hearing my voice and that I never once let him go when he needed me. That at the darkest moments I never let go of his hand.

He said that he never wanted to let me go, and then he drifted off to sleep.

Ghost slipped in sometime near sunrise, I could see the look on her face, somewhere between annoyance and relief as she left a note on the side table and slipped out again. I wish I had been awake enough to have said good bye.

Ferron passed most of the day reading and sleeping. At lunch he expressed that Ghost and I had conspired to poison him. I asked why he would say such a cruel thing and he wrinkled his nose and let the porridge drip slowly from the spoon back into the bowl.
I couldn't help it and burst into a fit of laughter. He began to laugh as well, but I could tell it pained him.

He seems to be getting stronger every day. Perhaps he will make a full recovery.



April 23rd, Imperial Year 794.
It was storming again today. we passed the time reading. He has been reading to me from a book that he had brought from his home country. It seems that they believe in fairies and goblins there. He forgets, when he reads, to watch his speech and he falls back into his native tongue, so I can't always follow all that he says, but the words flow so beautifully, and his voice is so rich, I never want him to stop.

If this could go on forever I would believe that I was heaven.



April 24th, Imperial Year 794.
The rain finally stopped today, though the streets are nearly flooded, and the air is still thick and heavy. Ferron is becoming so restless. He wanted the window open the minute the rain stopped, not that I minded, the room is horribly stuffy and still smells faintly of blood. But he also wants to be down stairs with the others, and it's all I can do to keep him in the room. Keeping him in the bed isn't possible at this point.

I suppose, as the stitches are out, and his color is returning I might allow him to go down to the common room for a while tomorrow. I am bringing him a hearty meal tonight, so at least that should ease his restlessness a small bit.

I do understand his frustration, I have been confined due to illness many times, it's how he can be bored of reading that I cannot fathom.



April 25th, Imperial Year 794.
Oh my dearest friend. My dearest, dearest friend. I am shaking from rage, and broken from guilt.
Ferron seemed as though he was improving by the minute, so I caved and agreed.Had today been a quiet and uneventful day I suppose that wouldn't have been an issue.

Daniel showed up just after lunch, he was dressed exceptionally well, even for him, and was bearing gifts of candy and flowers. I told him that I would talk with him outside, not wanting the Baccarat crew involved after the way my birthday went.

He refused. He insisted on having the discussion there in the middle of the common room. I asked him again to please at least step into the kitchen, or the hall upstairs, or anywhere but there in front of the audience. Instead he loudly asked if I was ashamed of him. I shook my head, feeling the color rising in my cheeks. He grew louder and more dramatic, naming all the "horrible ways" I have criminalized him when all he did was love me.

I asked him to stop, but he continued. I finally gather my wits and said that I simply did not return any of his feelings, that I have been cold because I didn't want to give him false hope. He stated that it was because I was so afraid that his family wasn't of the stability and class that I was accustomed, that he promised to continue to provide me with the cushioned life I knew. I heard snickering as he lamented on. I had had enough of the theatrics, grabbed his sleeve and lead him outside.
There he dropped his voice and reminded me that I was simply a puppet, a tool, and that my only purpose was to breed with the stud that my father chose. I snapped back that Father had a poor eye for horses. This angered Daniel, I could tell by the look in his face.
He hissed that it didn't change the fact that I was failing my father by refusing to marry him.

Then Fathers words the first time I was the Caged Crow came rushing back into my mind in a powerful wind of hope that gave flight to these broken wings.

I stepped close enough that he could hear me as a lowered my voice to barely a whisper and I told him what Father had said, That the only reason father chose him was because hid family could be swallowed up into our shadow and no one would know, that he was the puppet, and was simply to stupid to see it, and that I had no need for he or his broken, failing family who were too drunk on status and pride to see that they had passed their prime.

He stood in a rush of anger, throwing the gifts to the ground and grabbing my arm.

That's when things when horribly, horribly wrong.

I saw black. I didn't faint, I didn't take ill, but I was so terrified that I couldn't function. He pulled me up against him, hurting my arm and shoulder with the force. He hissed in my ear that even if my Father saw it that way, and even if I was arrogant enough to believe it, his family would have the Oryn fortune. And that he would have my pretty head in any way he pleased, whenever he pleased.

The sound of Ferrons voice made us both start, it was cold, and unusually calm and even.
"I suppose you have neither manners nor class. My homeland may be a bit backwards, marrying for status and all, but even they have more class than this."
Now that I am recalling the events I have so many questions for Ferron, but in the moment all I could think was that I wanted him to save me, and that I wanted him to stay in bed. Such inner conflict was overwhelming that I almost missed what happened next.

Daniel hissed that a filthy pirate would know nothing of class, and Ferron drew Daniels gun, though I am at a loss for how, and shoved it down Daniel throat. Daniel heaed and gagged, but Ferron was unwavering, though I could see the color draining from his face again. He pushed, and Daniel let go of my arm and fell to his knees. Ferron still refused to remove the barrel and stood grinning down at Daniel. I could hardly recognize either of them. Ferron with that evil sadistic calm, and Daniel a quivering mass with tears and snot running down his face as he wallowed in the mud.

"Now, lad, Should I put my finger on the trigger? Or should I turn you around and show you the gates of Hell the way you had in mind to show the lady? I suppose the choice would be yours, if I was king enough to let you choose. Based on your reaction this bit of brass is hot and testy, but at least that'd be over before it began, though I would go to jail fer a bit I'd be out in a few days. As if I really am a pirate I'd have no respect for things like walls and bars, and I just skip on to the next island and vanish. It wouldn't be the first time I disappeared, or the first time I pulled the trigger. Now, there is the small issue of honor, and though I see you are quite lacking, I hold mine dear.
Stand up."
Ferron pulled back the barrel slightly, drawing his own pistol, a lovely polished brass with a custom carved grip and polished shell inlays.
"Don't make me say it twice, stand up." Ferron hissed. "Stand up you piece of S**t or my finger just might slip. You are sobering all over the damn thing."

Daniel stood shakily, whimpering like a baby. Ferron slowly pulled the pistol from his mouth and tossed it on the ground.
"Now there are two ways we can play this, you can go crying off with your tail between your legs, like the b***h you are, or you can face me like a man and we'll call it at ten paces.I'm deathly accurate at twenty, but I'll let you the handicap."

Daniel reached down and picked the pistol from the mud, mumbling that the charges were wet. I could see what was left of his dignity running down his legs. Ferron shrugged and turned his back, stating that I needed to go inside.

I backed up against the door, incapable of looking away, but wishing I was deaf and blind.

Daniel took a few steps back regaining some control over his body. He asked how many paces, and Ferron repeated himself, adding that Daniel should tell him when he was ready. Daniel mumbled something of an agreement, raised the pistol, and a single shot rang out before I could warn Ferron.
Everything fell away as if it was a dream, I screamed and lurched forward towards Ferron, but it was as though I was not in my own body. I was watching from somewhere else.

Daniel fell to his knees. Ferron turned, catching me in his arms and we both toppled into the mud.I groped frantically for the bullet hole, but Ferron wrapped around me, restraining me.

I glanced back to see Daniel laying on the ground writhing in pain.

The crew came pouring into the street lifting us off the ground, shouting back and forth, carrying Daniel to the doctor, calling for the authority. All I could do was hysterically beg that no one summoned my father.

I have had to write the events twice so far for the authority, and then explaining to the Captains and Eleana. Ferron was taken into custody, and Daniel is in surgery last I heard of him.

I want today to restart. To have never happened. I wish I could run home to the safety of my Mothers embrace.

But wishes aren't horses, and I am still here, cold, muddy, scared, and feeling so lost.

At least I still have you, my dear friend.



April 26th, Imperial Year 794.
Ferron was released last night well after dark. I had already crawled into my bead and put the candle out when he walked into the room. He was weak, and cold, but he held his head high and refused to show even an ounce of the misery I knew he was feeling. I sat and watched as he gathered his things for a bath. Finally he turned and smiled at me, apologizing for waking me. I assured him that I hadn't been sleeping. He shrugged, and asked if I planned to watch him all night long. Without thinking I said that that hardly seemed a burden. He grinned, this time it was the mischievous smirk I had come to learn meant he had trouble planned. He asked if I enjoyed what I was seeing. Not wanting to insult (Or lie, as I really was) I nodded.
He stood for a moment carefully thinking about what he was going to do, I could see the plans forming behind those dark eyes.

Then he reached out as if to take my hand and said that I was welcome to continue to watch, or I could join. And he turned and started to walk out the door, pausing with his hand on the knob to ask if I was coming.

I don't know what came over me, but I did, I followed. Though the nervous feeling in my stomach was sure to make me sick, and I decided to sit outside the washroom door and wait for him.

As he was cleaning up he asked me if I was okay. He said he had spent the whole evening worrying, and no one would tell him a thing except that they had to decide if he was guilty or if he had only acted in defense. I promised him that the only issue was that I had been so worried about him, but that Eleana had taken good care of me. He laughed and said that it was okay for me to come in so we didn't have to shout.
I thought it over carefully. The truth was that I had seen him before, all of him, from the joke that Ghost had played, to the time I took care of him while he was sick and nearly dead. I determined that this wouldn't be any different, and I agreed.

I was wrong.

This was nothing like the prank, or the time I was caring for him.
He was standing beside the tub scrubbing the mud out of his thick red hair. I understood, he wanted to get as much as possible before soiling the water in the tub, else he would never feel clean, but there was something about seeing him, realizing how strong he really was. I couldn't help but take in every scar across his muscles, every detail of his beautiful tanned perfection. He finally seemed satisfied that his hair was as clean as he could get it with a bucket and a brush and he slipped into the water.

He smirked as I realized he had caught me looking and blushed quickly turning away.
I decided to change the subject and ask him what exactly happened when the gun went off. He shrugged and said that he knew that Daniel was planning something because that gun had the charged contained within the bullet casing, and that they were not exposed, so it wouldn't have been effected by the mud. I asked why he was willing to take the risk to begin with and he sank further down into the water, looking a bit sheepish. He admitted that he had underestimated Daniel, and that he thought he would have run home and cried to either his father or mine.

But that left one very serious question, and I asked how he managed to hit Daniel without even looking.

This is what surprised me the most. He said that the pistol he carried was custom made for him, and that he could tell by angling the grip where it would hit. That there is a crystal in it that sends a small beam of light, sort of like how you can use a mirror to illuminate dark corners. That the light will show him where the bullet will hit, and that he was watching Daniel in the reflection of the window of the Caged Crow.

I was shocked. I had no idea that such things were possible, though I admit I know little of weapon technology. He said that it was tech from his homeland, that only militants were allowed it, so very few people knew of it's existence.

I tried to ask him more, but he only shrugged and slipped below the waters surface.

I gave up and we finished the evening in silence.

Sometime during the night I woke to find him sitting at the table cleaning his pistol. He motioned for me to come over, so I tiptoed across to room and stood beside him. He pulled downward on one of the flowers that decorated the handle and the tiny crystal was exposed, he angled it so the light from the candle filled it with an orange glow and sent a tiny yellow dot to dance on the opposite wall.

He explained that the technology in his homeland is quite different that ours. That while we use the oil from sorghum for most or our power, they use light refraction. They use glass tubing, bronze mirrors, and crystals to light the rooms by day, and that they have a single fire that fills the tubes with light at night.

He said that they still use fire to heat and cook, but that it is a much steadied light than we have here. He said that in many other ways our ways are better.
He also said that Children's futures are determined by their parents at the time they are born, and that there is no other choice for them. That here, even if marriages are arranged from time to time, there is so much more freedom. That Alder went from a stable boy to a mechanic, to the owner of an inn. He said that that never would have been allowed in his homeland.

By the time he had finished he had put everything back together and he stood, blowing out the candle. He invited me to share his bed with a gesture.
An offer I gladly excepted.

I feel like I belong in his arms. As if that is where I was always meant to be.

Reviews

[R Smith]

I think Kitalia this will have to be the best chapter so far, a remarkable feat of writing and a storyline both exciting and inventive, the angle of Ferron's homeland is intriguing as it brings a similarity with modern times to compare to the times the story is set in, excellent work Kit Kat, bravo!

[Kitalia Emme]

Thank you! I am so glad to know that it is all falling together as well as I had hoped.