Post by Kidney on Apr 19, 2020 21:15:10 GMT -8
(This is written posthumously for Flamel, The Sellsword. So long, Sailor.)
(Musical Background here)
(Musical Background here)
There was a kiss of daylight atop his head, and the blackness ceased.
Flamel rose from his bed like a ghoul from the crypt, slowly and painfully, his hands reaching to hold his aching head. His hair fell in locks onto his knuckles, and his chest, and he groaned quietly. The morning after, it seemed. His dream had been one of pure, unsullied anxiety and fear, and he was trembling, just slightly, even after he had woken up. He opened his eyes, and glanced around the room.
He was not where he had fallen asleep. The room around him was tight, dark, wooden space, his bed a simple hammock, his arms and armaments stacked neatly on a swaying desk. He was aboard a ship. The Ship. He took a deep breath, and lept from the hammock's embrace. A blanket tugged at his ankle as he hurled himself up the small staircase, in nothing but a loose tunic and tight-fitting briefs. The smell of sea-air made tears well up in his eyes, and he hurtled towards the light at the top of the staircase.
His feet made contact with a wetter wood, and he shot from the underdeck to the main, and continued running. He saw a railing ahead, and the sea beyond. He lept from the railing, tossing himself over it. He did not know why he was running, but the light grew brighter the farther he ran. He saw it. The Sun, just rising from the sea, and Flamel ran, he ran atop the warm waves, he ran towards the Light. The Almighty Sun. He was smiling, and he smell the sea, and hear the gulls, and...just beyond the sun, just beyond its massive frame. Within it...he could hear laughter.
"Father!" He screamed.
"Flamel!" He heard. "I've been waiting for you! Come aboard!"
Flamel rose from his bed like a ghoul from the crypt, slowly and painfully, his hands reaching to hold his aching head. His hair fell in locks onto his knuckles, and his chest, and he groaned quietly. The morning after, it seemed. His dream had been one of pure, unsullied anxiety and fear, and he was trembling, just slightly, even after he had woken up. He opened his eyes, and glanced around the room.
He was not where he had fallen asleep. The room around him was tight, dark, wooden space, his bed a simple hammock, his arms and armaments stacked neatly on a swaying desk. He was aboard a ship. The Ship. He took a deep breath, and lept from the hammock's embrace. A blanket tugged at his ankle as he hurled himself up the small staircase, in nothing but a loose tunic and tight-fitting briefs. The smell of sea-air made tears well up in his eyes, and he hurtled towards the light at the top of the staircase.
His feet made contact with a wetter wood, and he shot from the underdeck to the main, and continued running. He saw a railing ahead, and the sea beyond. He lept from the railing, tossing himself over it. He did not know why he was running, but the light grew brighter the farther he ran. He saw it. The Sun, just rising from the sea, and Flamel ran, he ran atop the warm waves, he ran towards the Light. The Almighty Sun. He was smiling, and he smell the sea, and hear the gulls, and...just beyond the sun, just beyond its massive frame. Within it...he could hear laughter.
"Father!" He screamed.
"Flamel!" He heard. "I've been waiting for you! Come aboard!"