“Davian, come over here out of the wind with Savine and I; your soaked!”
Davian turned in a still and unmoving way towards his sister Velen, and twin brother Savine, now his only remaining family; just two more refugees pulled from the fire and ice by the hand of the Mariner. His two siblings sat shivering near the port gunwale of the ship they found themselves sailing upon, their backs against some tied down crates. Had it not been for the Mariner, the three would have shared the fate of his parents and his youngest sister, Mattie. A tear began to fall and then froze in place on his cheek. Davian didn’t notice.
“Velen, look at the clouds.” Davian murmured, his gaze carrying his words beyond his sister as if talking to an apparition behind her. “They’re leaving.”
Velen gave her brother a questioning look and then glanced over to her other young brother Savine, he sat with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, eyes fixed forward towards the bow. Velen looked back to Davian standing defiantly in the center of the ship's deck. She braced herself against the crates she had been leaning on with one hand and stiffly pushed herself up and turned so that she was looking out across the gunwale, out into the night sky.
“What do you mean, they’re leaving?”
“It’s as if they are the watchmen of this horrible place. I see them bow low their heads and march past and behind us.” Davian peered between the clouds into endless fields of stars layered beneath the swollen mist. He imagined the clouds carrying the stars along with them as the ship continued to rise away from the frigid seas. ”The stars are their lanterns and they sway and shimmer with our passing; a somber farewell indeed.”
“Not all the world is a thing of intention Davian.”
“You may be right, but to me their misty form is as a shifting cloak, creating the howling gusts that propel this very ship; they send me chills Velen. They grasp my heart with their icy reach.”
“Then come and wave them farewell in turn brother, for we will not return to this place, this grave of fire and ice.”
Davian stood a moment longer, drenched and unfeeling, an empty vessel. The wind against him began to freeze the tips of his wet hair; the dripping water from his fingertips freezing before it hit the deck. Finally he walked towards his sister and stopped beside her at the gunwale, peering aft over its edge in the direction the puffy cloaked night watchmen travelled. The sense of vertigo was immediate and overwhelming. “There’s nothing below us!”
Velen caught Davian in her arms as his legs began to give way. “There is nothing anywhere.” Velen replied.
“I saw a mountain a moment ago...but then it passed by...above us…” commented Savine peering up past the sails.
Velen peered down at her brother, a distant longing on his pale face. Slowly she lowered Davian down on the deck near to Savine and then sat next to him with her head against his shoulder. At first the frozen strands of her hair caused Davian to flinch, but then they melted and warmed against his body and he welcomed her added warmth.
The night truly began to press in harshly around the children. “I can not tell if the ship is rising or falling, moving forward or back; it could be spinning and listing helplessly and I’m sure I could not discern the difference,” Davian mused.
Velen realized her emotions were being mirrored by the seeming movement of the ship. She could not grasp their frantic movements and sit them still any more than she could climb across the aft gunal and push the ship steady forward. Velen began to try and focus on the machinations around her rather than within. She peered towards the bow.
The craft was built in the image of sailing ship. Yet there was no wood in her construction. There also was no mast or running rigging but there were definitely sails and it was beyond Velen’s comprehension how they managed to billow and ripple but never change their height. There was nothing securing them above the deck, nothing to keep them from flying away into the veil of darkness surrounding them. Lowering her gaze, she saw there was a staircase to the port side of the bow and it led to a higher deck that was shrouded in darkness too thick for Velen to see through. “Look there.” The twins followed Velen’s gaze towards the front of the ship.
“I’ve noticed them too,” Savine replied. “They appear to be deckhands. I’ve seen them moving unnaturally in and out of the darkness between the flickering light of the gas lamps. I can’t make out what they are carrying.”
“I can’t either,” commented Davian. “But they have tools of both destruction and creation on their belts.” Davian continued watching the men intently. “There’s something strange there as well.”
Velen responded with wonderment in her voice. “Yes, I see it. A doorway, but it is moving! Moving from place to place on the forward wall!” At once she realized almost more peculiar than the door shifting around was that the deckhands never seemed to have any trouble anticipating its movement and either emerging from its dark bosom or disappearing into its grave like visage. The three spent some time watching this doorway and made a game of trying to decide where it would shift and if there was a pattern to it. For a moment they forgot where they were and why they had come to be there.
A light thud followed by a jingle of chain brought their attention away from their fascinations. Beginning some distance away and at even intervals the repetitive thud then jingle slowly increased in intensity.
“It is some machine slowly waking. Yawning and stretching from below deck.” ventured Savine.
“No Savine, it is something far less mysterious and it is on the deck.” Velen corrected.
Davian strained to hear. “Be quiet and listen!” He demanded of his siblings. Davian squinted his eyes and peered aft towards the origin of the sounds. “Look astern! There is something.”
“I see nothing.” Savine whispered. “No, wait...there! It’s as if a cloud of smoke is reforming after the wind has shifted it in a thousand directions.”
“It is the silhouette of a man!” Velen stated with muted breath.
Astern, the silhouette of a man did indeed begin to take shape. He wore large boots made with a solid heel and baggy tops folded back again over themselves. As each boot heel struck the deck of the ship there was a jingle of metal across the body of the man. The man's clothes looked well weathered and warm and only reminded the three how cold they were. The man’s trousers were white once and of thick animal skin worked soft and fitted with metallic buckles near the waist. He had a knee length studded white tanned leather coat with wide sleeves that carried slits at the hems. His broad collar was lined woolen and flipped up around his neck with several metallic fasteners keeping it high obscuring the bottom part of his face. He wore a hat made for the cold with fur both inside and out of it. There were flaps that could lay down across the ears but he had them tied up exposing his ears to the frigid wind of the sky. His clothes looked well made and the stitching was nimble and even. This was a man of wealth who had no problems being about his business. He carried several items at his waist belt but there purpose was unknown to the siblings. Some seemed more sinister than others but all seemed worn in a way that it was obvious the owner was a deft operator no matter the need.
Davian recognised him immediately. “The Mariner.”