I used to have a tattoo. It was an impulsive thing, but I never regretted that pie coming out of another pie. Reminded me not to take things too seriously.
It was an easy life. Here, to take things lightly often means stupid mistakes that get you killed. That is, outside of the city of the Northern Watertribe. There, I was free to make as many mistakes as I liked.
...
When I'm done with his wound, I get some more water for the pirates to drink. The brat toddles at my heels.
As I move along, one by one, I notice that the cabin boy lies curled up in a ball, with bruises where there weren't any last night. Seems like he's not very well received with the rest of the crew. Perhaps because he didn't fight? I doubt that if I heal him now, he will help the pirates escape.
I tug him upright. His face is purple and swollen.
On impulse, ignoring his groans of pain, I gather him up. He's really just a sack of flesh and bones. We move up the steps to the deck. The captain, from where I've bound him to the mast, watches blankly as I put the boy down, and begin to heal him. Thankfully, his bruising is only superficial, though I do worry a bit about his right eye. Even as I gently encourage the cells to heal, it remains unfocussed. Though that may be exhaustion.
I feed him some of the dried meat we found, and water. Then he's sitting up on his own, and scooting away like a skittish animal. The brat goes to follow, and I hook a finger in the collar of his shirt to keep him where he is. He turns to look at me indignantly. The baby-fat is not doing him any favours.
I shrug.
"Ka! Le- mmme!"
I study the brat for a moment, and then sigh. He's as much of a grown man as I am, inside, and can make his own decisions. "Alright."
I let him go.
He pads over, and smacks his child hands to the cabin boy's leg until the boy cautiously reaches out and lifts him into his lap. Well, then. "Scream if you need anything," I tell the brat, and with a warning glance for the cabin boy, I move up the stern to check our course after giving the captain his share of water.
Azula is waiting with her arms crossed.
It's just one thing after another these days, isn't it?
Where are my days of teasing Yue, annoying Pakku und getting Hahn blind drunk? Where are my days of floating on leaves in in streams in my underwear with Sokka?
I suppose there aren't any holidays for men from different worlds trying to help the Avatar make the world whole again. Especially not for men who belong to the darker parts of that whole.
I will have to think about how to get to Ba Sing Se. The maps of the captain detailed the fastest safe passage to Chamaeleon Bay. Which is, to my knowledge still being guarded by Sokka and Katara's father. Perhaps even Pakku. Which could turn out to be problematic just in terms of even getting to say 'hello'. If I recall correctly, he is a very skilled trapper and crafty strategist, very similar to Sokka.
So, how would a ship like this one even get close enough to the barricade to leave the watertribe with it, and perhaps get an escort to Ba Sing Se? Obvious waterbending? It might be best to go with the simplest strategy. Often, convoluted ones give the impression of something more going on.
"What do you plan on doing now?" Azula's voice is tight in the way that betrays her re-evaluation of just who is the person to best go with in order to survive. She wants, in the end, to come out on top.
She must consider that I am still the one most likely willing and able to help her with that blood clot of hers. She must also consider that my motivations are unknown, and I might just as easily abandon her as I would a leaf that has settled in my hair.
I don't owe her anything. And the way I see it, she is in large parts to blame for our capture. It may have enlightened me to the fact that without bending, I am unable to protect myself.
I shrug. "How's the head?"
She openly grimaces, so I wave her over, and she sits for me to soothe the headache, and find that blood clot. It feels different. Less pressurising. Her headache can't be that bad. Nice try, princess.
That hit to the back of her head must have done more than just knock her out. Which means that I might not be needed to cure her. Oh dear. This changes quite a few things. She might not even be the young girl I knew her to be any more.
This means that I am free to fuck off whenever I like.
So long as she proves to be back to her fifteen-year-old mind. I'm not that much of an arsehole that I'd let a ten-year-old wander around alone.
But this opens a few more avenues.
...
We have established the shift rotation, and it is working well so far, but it is only a matter of time before one of us falls asleep. I sense that I am the most experienced on watch duty, but even I have my limits, and I have been on watch for weeks now. Sleeping by day helps, of course, as do naps, but surely exhaustion is settling into my bones.
What helps is company and it seems the cabin boy has taken a liking to me, as far as he likes anyone. However, one can like someone and fear them at the same time. That only means one does not feel pure emotions, as I am willing to say one never does. There is no way he could feel any different.
He's shy. Less so, when Mai desires a few hours of uninterrupted sleep in either the captain's or fist mate's cabin and the brat is with me. I suppose that's the magic of children. Or not-children. We are always deceived by appearances.
He's fascinated by the stars, rightly so. They twinkle so prettily. I've often wondered whether this is somehow, by chance, a different planet with humans on it. but there is no way for me to know.
"Do you know that the world we live on is a planet?" I ask on the second night, following an impulse to share my knowledge.
The boy, helping the brat stand and walk, startles at the sudden question from the figure leaning against the stern's railing in the shadow of the sail. His eyes have become saucers, and I am just beginning to wonder if there is something rather terrifying behind me when he shakes his head.
Well, then. From the beginning it is.
And so I tell him about how our world is round, how the core of it is molten rock, how tectonic plates shift and collide and crack open for volcanoes to form. I spend much time on convincing him that the stars above are suns with their own solar systems, and planets, and how we can see these planets through telescopes. Thankfully, he knows what that is, and this one coinciding fact, or object, as it were, begins to tip the balance of believability in my favour.
"You're saying the planets are moving? How- no one's pushed them to move, and in circles! Or ellipses," he says distastefully. Throughout the course of our conversation he's come far out of his shell. I'd not expected it, but the brat's quiet presence and the fact that some of my attention is always on our course seem to help.
I chuckle. "Theoretically, a push is not necessary. Matter attracts. I did tell you about how gravity keeps us on the ground. Well, that force is similar to how the planets attract each other, and never quite touch until they do, and there is an explosion. One day, I think, this planet may collide with its sun, or the comet will come before that, and everything living on the surface will die." Like dinosaurs, I muse.
Wait a second... Perhaps... This is in a time long before the dinosaurs existed. What if these dinosaurs... Aha, hahaha-
I cut off the mad laughter in my head and turn my attention back to the boy in front of me. No sense in wondering. This is a fictional world somehow connected to mine and therefore no longer fictional because I am experiencing it. I won't say there's no way. Because I have no means of knowing that, except for disbelief, and if I do not believe I can trust my belief, it is like searching for clues as to our non-existence because of doubt that we exist. Sort of.
In any case, completely irrelevant to my current conversation.
...
Don't forget to throw some power stones :)
...
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