The Womamel didn’t often dock
in Lidarion. It wasn’t really a safe port for the captain or his crew, and
while each and every member of the crew would swear up and down on a case of
rum that they were legitimate traders only interested in running cargo from one
free port to another for a profitable price, being branded pirates had less to
do with how the crew felt about themselves and more about how the world saw
them.
Still, the war had made it
harder to find, and much less take honest transport work along the southern
coast and there were bills to pay, and if you had a skill there was no better
place on the planet to use it in trade than Lidarion. The Womamel stood out
like a sore thumb when it pulled into port. It had begun its life as an elven
coastal strider. A battle ship that had the space and windows for an
excessively silly number of cannons. It had defended the norther coast of the
southern continent until it was stolen by a band of pirate raiders who had
taken the ship as their prized possession. It changed hands either taking care
of debts in trade, or coming to new owners at the end of poker games. That happened
to be how Lisa’s brother came to possess the ship. Dean was uncommonly good at
card games and bluffed his way into possession of the ship while still the second
mate of his pervious ship…Leaving the pirate’s island with the ship was another
ordeal entirely.
With the Womamel docked, Dean stopped by the dock master's office to check his messages and found the
employment request waiting for him. He had never been to Alex’s bar but there
were members of his crew who swore by the place. As rare as it was for him to
bring the ship to Lidarion, It was rarer still for him to leaving the shipping
district. Luckily he had woken the dock master long enough to get directions
and the bar wasn’t very far into the commerce district.
Growing up in his family both
he and his sister had decreed that neither of them would allow the other to
follow in their father’s footsteps. There were so many other possibilities as
children that sailing seemed mundane and beneath them. His sister kept that promise,
she had the skill and talent of magic from their mother so she dedicated her
life to becoming a healer. As hard as she cried when she left for school, Dean
had cried harder. He felt betrayed, abandoned, and left behind. As the years
passed he found that the seas suited him. He enjoyed waking up with the horizon
in every direction. He was better than most at navigation and his father grew
to trust him regularly at the helm, eventually men twice his age made no
complaint of taking his orders. Still almost nightly he swore to himself that
when his father retired he would free himself to explore the world, get off the
ship and see the dryland world. And when his father retired he did just that. He
lasted less than a month. When his father’s ship docked again he was waiting
for it, and the crew welcomed him home to his rightful place. As a child he
swore to his sister that taking on a ship of his own would be the worst mistake
of his life, the year after his father died he found himself making that
mistake gladly.
Dean didn’t usually think about
his family much, and felt strange that he should be thinking of them today.
With his mind distracted by thoughts of the past he nearly tripped over the
Bar. He shook off clawing grasp of memory and opened the door to the bar, only
to see his sister sitting at a table with a bunch of people he had never met.
He should feel warmth and relief, excitement and happiness. But the first
thought that crossed his mind was turning around and leaving the bar before she
saw him. She had obviously left the note, remembering the name of the ship he
jokingly chose as a child. What would she think now that it was not only not a
joke but a point of great pride in his life. She had done what they promised
each other and he had done the exact opposite. She had left him behind but now
he felt like the one who betrayed her.
