Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 4: The Voyage Begins

They sailed over the deep blue sea, flecked with brown patches of kelp and black forms just below the surface. Birds soared serenely, looking to strike at any fish that came near the surface, then diving, splashing, returning to the skies above with their squirming prey. The fish below were split between two groups: the fish that swam in well-coordinated schools, their very movement confusing those in the predators that preyed on those too slow to evade them. There are the plankton-eaters, those giants that created the largest, scariest shadows but wouldn’t harm a flea. And then there were the reptiles and killer whales, usually predators but sometimes just more of the plankton-eaters.

Fish are Buddhists by definition, living for the moment and not caring either about a past they can’t remember nor the future they can’t contemplate.

A world of beauty and symmetry, where everything is counterbalanced by something else. Unless the apothecary was taking the day off to see his mistress, whose husband was away taking care of business. In which case, you get a special view of the vast expanse rolling beneath your feet, a ride that you voluntarily get on and can’t get off any time, no matter what, trapped by the battle between your will and your inner ear. Sal was cursing that apothecary, hoping he caught a disease so painful that he would be relegated to a state where he couldn’t do anything about it, even though the right drugs were just a few steps away and out of reach because he couldn’t stand.

After dry heaving once again, she leaned against the rails, which she cursed for offering no solace to her stomach. The crew was busy; even though the ship itself was on course, there were still chores to do, mostly maintenance, but each one necessary to the welfare of the ship at large, be it eternally swabbing the deck to avoid the buildup of salt on the deck to sewing even the smallest rips in the backup sails. The cook was busy trying to make the hard tack, salted meat, and dried fruit interesting, but failing miserably as someone had forgotten to restock his spices. The navigator checked and rechecked his math, hoping that the crew hadn’t glued his astrolabe’s wheel again (the crew got easily bored). The captain was enjoying the smoothness of operation, of both his crew and his beloved vessel. The first mate was busy…working on his tan. He was resting up for when he took over at sunset, when he would fill in for the captain as master of the ship, but only until Something Interesting happened, which rarely did; monsters rarely attacked ships anymore (doing so would bring attention to them, and in an era of heroes that was always a Bad Idea) and pirates only attacked during the day (only a moronic landlubber wouldn’t realize that you needed to see something in order to sneak up on it, and most ships ran with as few lights as possible to ensure invisibility at night).

She smiled just a little, hoping the movement wasn’t enough to trigger another communion with the sea. The first mate was sort of attractive; he was young enough to be worried about his physical appearance, and his ministrations were paying off. He helped the swabs in order to maintain a certain bulk, practiced with the saber to supposedly keep up his skills but really to maintain his grace, and brushed his hair to keep it smooth, employing wax to keep it and his goatee shiny. Even now, he applied a light coconut oil in order to make sure he didn’t burn in the harsh sun, so that his skin was a dark tan, but not so dark that his light blue eyes were lost in the dusk. She had one wistful thought of what she would do him if not for the rolling ocean…and had to quickly turn before the crew threw a mop in her general direction.

She hated her life right now. If she could move from the railing, she would show that first mate why you didn’t look that good to someone as bored as she was. Too bad she had other worries.

* * * * *

In the meantime, Hajime had established a routine. He woke before the crew every morning for three hours of meditation. He had spent years at a monastery learning how to find his center, and then how to lose that center in the universe. He became, for a few hours each day, part of the fabric of the universe; he could feel in his bones, his nerves, his very soul the elements that made up Jezreel. The air that its creatures breathed, the water of its oceans, the metal of its inhabitants, the earth of its crust, and the fire below it; all of the elements were as part of him as he was of it. That awareness fueled him for the day, and it made his spells that much more real, and that made it easier for him to cast his spells. The meditation left him focused and his will stronger; he always felt a little better afterwards. Although he knew the meditation wasn’t necessary, it would probably mess with his rhythm if he didn’t do it every morning.

He also put in thirty minutes of physical exercise. He did it in his shorts so that he started out somewhat chilly, but he quickly warmed up. He did some basic kata; although he never got into the martial arts that the monastery taught, he did know the basic exercises, and so kept them up as a form of exercise. The sailors saw his tattoos (which included a small red Oriental dragon attempting to eat itself above his heart and several rectangles in an arch formation with a sun behind them on his back); curiosity ran rampant as to the arch’s meaning, but they knew better than to ask a magic-worker about his secrets. A quick cleansing thanks to a simple spell, and the stink of perspiration was cleaned from his body, although it was hardly as refreshing as a real bath.

Afterwards, he would bring out a few chemicals and mix something up. He figured it would be a good idea to have some decent potions around, and so he concocted at least one a day. Usually it was nothing major, but once in a while he created something that exploded, fizzed violently, or just changed color randomly for a few minutes. His worst disasters combined all three of them. For some reason, the big, bold, scary pirates covered in scars and tattoos gave him plenty of room for as long as he needed. He wasn’t sure if it was going to be okay, but he relaxed a bit when he saw some of them watching and placing bets. After seeing some of them getting a little friendly with each other, especially the younger members, he was sort of pleased that his potion skills kept the crew away. It was normally part and parcel of the job to be lonely as a magic-worker, but that he created concoctions that could rearrange the landscape by accident really helped enforce that loneliness.

After he put his alchemy lab away. He climbed up the rigging. In order to feel like he was contributing to the ship, he had volunteered for time in the crow’s nest. Although a necessary post, it was the most boring one, with nothing to do. It was the closest he could get to flying; if he got too far away as a sparrow, he wouldn’t have been able to catch up to the fast-moving ship. However, it was enjoyable to see the shapes large and small scurry from the ship; even those that might have been large enough to properly challenge the ship’s crew and armament changed direction just enough to avoid the ship. He would usually eat his dinner there; again, his training helped here, as even the worst meal that the ship’s cook was a delight compared to the usual meal at the monastery. He also did some drawing and writing; one could tell by his illustrations when he had adjusted to the ship’s movement, as the lines became sharper. There wasn’t much to draw, so he just illustrated his journal. There were no worries about surprise as a ship would have had to be invisible to sneak up on him, and if they did use invisibility, then it would surprise everyone.

After his shift in the nest, he settled in and went to sleep. Although the passenger’s berth was decidedly spartan, it was comfortable for what it was. Hajime fell asleep quickly and hardly moved, compared to his sick companion. A few hours of rest, and he would repeat the day.

[For the previous chapter, check here. For the next chapter, check here.]