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Beyond the Sea - Chapter Three (Patron Reward)
🕑 Added 2020-07-26 04:43:35 +0000 UTC[This is a pledge reward for a patron~ Thank you so much for the support!]
Her first thought was of the warmth. The darkness surrounding her was pleasant, but the heat was at the point of discomfort. The thought of getting out of a bed this comfortable, however, was difficult to even conceptualize; never had Sophie ever slept somewhere so plush and relaxing, certainly not since she moved in with her aunt at the lighthouse. She was between the world’s heaviest blanket and the world’s heaviest mattress, but that dream of her’s was unraveling the more she awoke. It didn’t make sense, she realized, to be somewhere away from the lighthouse -- she never had to be anywhere but the lighthouse.
That symbol came to mind, the tower perched at the peninsula with its fiery light circling the sea. She tried to move, but it was hard with such weights closed in on her. Back to the lighthouse, Sophie thought, like an instinct that propelled her. Towards that goal, she crawled, but the warmth and darkness didn’t want her to leave. She reached far into where just a slip of light leaked in ahead of her, and her fingertips felt the coolness of air, an enjoyable contrast to the humidity.
“Aunt-- Aunt Clara…?” Sophie spoke, her volume muffled in the confined space. She tried to rise, but the softness on top of her forbade her from simply getting up. She crawled forward more, “Aunt Clara? K-Kids? … Someone?” Neither Clara nor her cousins were there to respond. Sophie listened intently, for hopes of hearing anything, but all that came to her was a steady rhythm, a drum that felt both close yet far away. Only then did she take particular notice of the texture of the supposed bed she was in; smooth surfaces that squished when pushed, dotted with minute bumps that her fingers ran right over. So familiar, unnervingly so.
But these mysteries drove Sophie’s mind to an entirely different conclusion. A spark of fire erupted in her memory, “The lighthouse…!” It returned to her, how the lighthouse went up in flames, but was that even real? If it were true that the lighthouse did catch fire last night, then that meant giants existed. That image crept to mind as well, the sight of a person taller than the tower itself, stomping through the yard and rattling the house. Even the memories felt real, too real for her to lay idly without answers.
It was a struggle, but Sophie pulled herself forward between the two heavy pillows. She would pry open a gap, then squirm forward, repeating this until finally her head broke free. She gasped for fresh air and was granted a lungful of hardy salt, the taste of the ocean. It could be heard now, the lullaby of waves washing along the shore. The sound was relieving, but only until Sophie looked upon her next discovery. Her mouth opened wide, all of her motion ceased.
A force of warm air blew over top of Sophie, as if wanting to push her back where she came. It was no normal wind, but an exhale. Above her, almost within reach, was a massive face, and from the nostrils did the air ventilate over her. By the time Sophie grasped this, she was breathed on again. She shuddered out of her paralysis, then shuddered again. It dawned on her that this wasn’t a bed, but the fatty flesh of breasts, one laid out on top of the other, and she was still sandwiched between them.
“Aiihhhii!!” Suddenly, Sophie was in spasms. The thought of being trapped in a giant’s cleavage had started as a shiver and accelerated into fury. She grabbed at the flesh and tugged at it, wanting to conclude her escape, but she feared how her movements could tickle the giant and make matters worse. By the time she thought of that, it was likely too late. She was shaken when the giant stirred, blown at again by a frustrated exhale. The giant was moving -- turning, and towards Sophie.
The slumbering Moana rolled over, grazing a lazy hand just over her cleavage. An itch bothered her, but she had no interest in waking up. The storm and the townspeople both had exhausted her, and the morning sun was still just a yawn for the day. She opened her eyes just a crack, staring out of the cove and to the sea, where the morning light was reflected in weak sparkles. She turned her head around; she was in no mood to greet the ocean today.
Short of drifting back to sleep, Moana again felt an itch on her chest. She shifted without getting up, attempting to massage the itch away against the cove’s stony floor, but doing so was making the sensation worse. It was though she was caught up in an argument, and she couldn’t fall asleep until she won it.
Moana pushed herself up into a half-seated posture, quietly whining the entire time. Leftover dust and debris from the church were dispelled from her body as she rose, presumably being the source of her incessant itch. She groggily fixed her dress, adjusting how her breasts balanced within it, but as she spread open her cleavage, she found what exactly had been tickling her. A woman, someone she had forgotten all about last night. The lightkeeper that she first met that night was staring back at her; breath taken, flustered, her arms flailed over her head and twisted among damp red hair. Eyes many times smaller than Moana’s widened with awe, just as Moana’s own did.
Another high pitched scream rebounded off the cave walls. Moana flinched, even her ears pricked by the sharp noise. Sophie was inspired anew to free herself, but now that Moana was sat up, more than before did gravity want to keep her seated. “Help me! A-Aunt Clara! Monster!” she spewed frantically, struggling with Moana’s breasts as though she were sinking into the sea.
Moana wished to express concern, but it was actually a laugh that popped from her throat. Embarrassingly, Sophie’s efforts were tickling Moana quite well, so much that she could barely speak without a chuckle interrupting her. “Hey, i-it’s alright! Slow down!” she tried to say, her hands hovering nearby in case of an accident. “I know you’ve got to be terrified, b-but I’m not gonna hurt you! I promise, j-just stay calm!”
There was a beat where Sophie did not cry out, spoken over by Moana. She was still, uneasily so; all at once, she burst into a frenzy again, “Aaaaghhh!” Without restraint, Sophie punched into the fat that hugged her. A solid fist dove welcomingly into Moana’s left breast, poking into the skin before being ejected right out. Undeterred, Sophie punched again with her other hand, and to the same exact effect. Both fists, slammed down in a tantrum, yet she could barely jiggle the flesh immediately against her, let alone the entire rack.
“Are you even listening to me?” Moana asked, wincing at the sight of being punched, but ultimately unphased. “No. Of course not,” she scoffed, moving to sit up straight, “you won’t listen to me. No one here will. I keep trying to tell people the same thing, but everyone-- oof!” Her head struck the cove ceiling, forgetting it would be so close. She growled, “everything is too small… or, I guess, maybe, I’m… too big.”
Moana looked to Sophie -- a clear, dedicated observation. There was no storm or fire or mob to be stressed over, and so Moana could truly see how huge she was. Sophie was human, so she had learned, not too unlike any she knew back home. The red hair was flashier than usual, and her skin was certainly more pale, but still just a young woman. Compared to her, Moana admitted, she must have looked like a monster, towering over her so.
Sophie had wrestled herself into another fatigue. She lay partially collapsed over one breast, her lower-half still wedged into the cleavage. She watched each of Moana’s motions fearfully, but thus far, nothing endangered her. In fact, having tired herself out so much, Sophie could comprehend that the giant wasn’t on the rampage that she first imagined. There was a weary expression upon the face hanging above, looming like a willow.
Decidedly not saying anything, Moana widened her cleavage with one hand while the other grabbed Sophie from under her armpits. There was another short squeak of protest, but Sophie soon settled herself; she was held in an open hand, her balance delicately considered by that who held her. She didn’t dare move and risk slipping off the palm, though it left her heart beating to be so sickeningly vulnerable.
Squawks from seagulls chimed into the cove as they flew past the entrance, taking to the skies freely. “You want to go home, don’t you?” Moana asked, her voice fair and hollow.
Sophie swallowed and edged back into a curl of fingers. The question sat without a reply while she debated how cruel of a joke it could be. She stuttered to speak, even if it was a short answer, “Y-Yes…”
“I understand. I do, too.” Moana nodded, her gaze drifting back to the gentle call of the waters. She lowered her hand to the ground, allowing Sophie to step off whenever she chose. “I’m sorry for taking you away like that. Your home, it’s, uh… I didn’t make it very far. If you leave from here, you’ll probably be able to see that tower and follow it back.”
Sophie had yet to disembark from the hand. “Y-You’re going to let me go? I can just leave?”
Moana nodded again, offering an apologetic smile. “I’ve caused enough trouble, I think. I can’t believe I just… forgot about you! But there was so much happening. The storm was bad enough by itself, but then that light-thing caught on fire, and everyone in town started to flip out. I was-- ha, believe it or not, I was trying to help.”
“Light-thing? Oh, the lighthouse?” Sophie muttered. The flash of flames was recalled with a short shiver, but the details after that became fuzzy. She loosely remembered Aunt Clara running away, but nothing afterwards. It had all felt like a dream, but then, so did sitting in a giant’s hand. “Then, last night… actually happened. The lighthouse, a-and Aunt Clara… and a g-giant… I’m actually talking to a giant...”
Moana blinked hard, her gaze cast into the ocean when they opened again. “I’m not supposed to be giant--”
Sophie was on her feet in a jolt, her knees buckled in excitement. “This is unbelievable! I-I’m meeting an actual giant! I’m talking to one!” Moana’s lips curled in, surprised by this kind of reaction -- a smile, even laughter from the person that should be most terrified of her. Sophie was flustered and bouncy, still standing in Moana’s palm. “I had my hopes up I would meet a mermaid, to be honest, b-but this is equally as fantastic! You came right out of a book, you did!”
Moana was cautiously confused, but nevertheless intrigued. She raised Sophie off the ground, leaning in closer to speak to her. “Can… Can I go back into a… book?”
Sophie blinked, her smile persisting but dwindling. “... What?”
“A book, you said? Wh-What’s a book? Is it… a portal?”
“I mean… a book.” Sophie chuckled, unsure if there was a joke she was missing. “A book, you know. With pages, written in ink. They have stories or information inside them. I… haven’t had to explain a book to someone before. They’re kind of like portals! Portals to other worlds! But, you don’t actually enter or exit a book. You just read it.”
“And there are stories in them? In books?” Moana hadn’t realized it herself just how engrossed into this topic she had become. “I know what stories are, my people have amazing stories we share. Do all of your stories have… giants?”
Sophie giggled, “No, not all of them. Most books just have information in them, but I like to collect books about fantasy and romance! Anything with a big adventure, really. Cooped up in the lighthouse all the time, I’d never be able to see the world without books.” A longing sigh interrupted her, “I’ve never traveled, not for years since I was taken to live here. But you -- you must have traveled far! I don’t know where Giantsland is, but it must be somewhere far…”
“I’m not from Giantsland,” Moana flatly clarified. “There is no Giantsland. I’ll say it again, I’m not supposed to be giant. Everything here is way too small for me, I clearly don’t belong here, if last night was any indication.” She ran an available hand up and down her calves, her fingers carefully maneuvering around the scratches and puncture wounds centered around her ankles. “That town definitely doesn’t want me back…”
Sophie watched how Moana studied the injuries. It all seemed minor when afflicted upon the giant body, but each wound had forceful intent behind it. Though she had been blacked out during the chaos, the evidence of what unfolded still remained, and it told of a mob’s violent reaction to Moana’s presence. “Th-They’re good people! I swear!” Sophie argued, coming to the town’s defense. “It’s a close-knit sort of community, a-and everyone has been on edge lately. There’s been words of pirates, and the war keeps going on with the British. If they knew who you were, they wouldn’t have…!”
Moana smiled, a positivity that seemingly healed some of her leg’s aches. But it was hollow and brief, “I destroyed something while I was there. A building-- I got tripped into it. So.” She glanced back to the waters, as if the sea were part of the conversation. “I don’t think they want me back.”
“Ooh…” Sophie winced, realizing that would be a real hurdle to overcome, but she was determined. “It’s a big misunderstanding -- a really big one. They must have thought you were a threat, but… you’re not. You haven’t hurt me yet! And you’ve had plenty of time to do that by now!” She stepped forward from the palm, confident though her feet now balanced precariously on Moana’s knees. Heights didn’t seem to phase her, for she was energized and alert all the same. “We could go back together and explain things to them! The weather’s calmed down and it’s bright outside, m-maybe they’ll listen!”
Moana refrained from shaking her head, afraid the gesture would be too blunt of a reply. “I don’t think people trust that easily. I don’t even know why you trust me so much. You don’t even know my name.”
“I-- That’s, well, true. What is your name?”
“Moana.”
“Moana… That’s so magical!” Sophie shivered with delight. “That’s much more interesting than Sophie.”
“I gather that’s your name?” Moana lightly chuckled. “Well, Sophie, you’ve been very kind and I appreciate that. But I think it’s time you head home, and I get started on doing the same, somehow.”
“You’re right. I should get home immediately, and tell them where you are!” Sophie faced away from Moana and towards the slope of her leg. Just as Moana tried to protest, the little woman was sliding down her leg and to her foot, skidding off the toes and into the sand. With a hop, Sophie was back on her feet. “They’re probably looking for you! The navy, that is. And if they spot you, they’ll definitely try to capture you, or worse. How exciting…!”
Moana frowned. “Exciting?”
“Err-- If I speak to them first, I-I might be able to convince them to call off the hunt,” Sophie explained. “I might even have a book I could bring back! So, for now, stay here and I’ll come back! Don’t let the navy see you!”
“I don’t know about this,” Moana tried to argue, but Sophie was dashing through the shoal of the cove to hurry out. It would have been especially easy to reach out and block her path or pick her off the ground, but Moana hesitated to act so rudely. Before she could manage another word, Sophie had stepped into the daylight. Moana looked for other options, then dropped her shoulders, “... Try to hurry. I really don’t want to spend all day in a cave.”
Sophie nodded, exaggerating the motion for Moana to clearly see. “Yes! I’ll be back soon! I-I’ll tell Aunt Clara about you, a-and the navy, and a book-- which book? Oh, and paper and ink, I have so much to write down…!” As if overloaded with possibilities, it took Sophie that moment to clarify her focus and jet off to Port de Désir, each step a bound across the beach. She wasted no time to return to town, just as the town had been tirelessly thinking of her.
There was unrest among the townsfolk that had clammored around the navy barracks. Questions and demands hammered at the doors that four guards kept blockaded. Only approved personnelle were allowed inside, but the distress of the people leaked through the windows above. The navy was accountable for the town’s defense, and thus responsible for explaining the previous night’s events. A giant had stormed their home from the seas and made a mockery of their resistance. Only further up the road was the collapsed ruins of the church, the backdrop of the protester’s fury.
It could be heard within the captain’s room, the balcony of which overlooked the road that the mob occupied. The crowd was in clear view, but all backs were turned to the windows and all the curtains closed. A skylight from above illuminated the room, but not where the boulder sat -- a man anchored at a central desk, hunched into deep contemplation while those around him bickered. Soldiers buzzed about in confused discussion, several still drenched from the earlier downpour. It had been only hours since the giant uprooted peace and normality, and it was that sturdy captain who would wrangle it back into order.
“Lock down the town!” one soldier argued, banging his hands against the desk. “This is an emergency! We cannot risk a second attack!”
“We’re hopeless if we just sit here!” another barked back. “That thing will destroy us if it comes back! Either we hunt the beast or let the beast hunt us!”
“Doing so would only provoke the monster! We’d be feeding our soldiers to it! Reconsider, Captain Durok! Await reinforcements!”
“From where? Versailles? Nothing they send can get here fast enough, it’s up to us!”
The captain rustled in his seat, all the motion necessary to captivate attention onto himself. “... Has a runner been sent to Versailles?”
“Yes,” an assistant spoke up, “b-but there was allegedly doubt at the relay… Doubt that the message was correct--”
“Bring them here!” His voice shook the suite, settling any other conversation happening. Captain Durok looked to no one, but his words pointed to the assistant’s throat. “Whoever doubts my warning will be roped and dragged here to witness it themselves! Take them to my ship and let them doubt it then!” His fingers curled angrily into a document. “That thing threw my ship aside like driftwood. A dozen thrown overboard and nearly swallowed by the sea in its wake. It’s a danger to the sea and land alike. If we do not see it to its death, it will see us to our own.”
Even his fellow soldiers were chilled by the bloodlust in Durok’s voice, but the command was unquestioned. The sea monster was to be hunted, an inspiring feat if they could accomplish it. One soldier, however, raised a concern, “Where do we find it?”
“After attacking the church, witnesses claim it stomped southbound along the beach,” a lieutenant confirmed. “We have scouts spread wide to locate it, but nothing yet has been reported.”
“And how do we fight this thing?!” another soldier chimed in. Others agreed in murmur, “Our bullets did nothing! Our weapons and tools snapped against its skin! And it could flatten us under its feet!” Additional support was vocalized -- no one wished to die to the hands of a giant, certainly none who once already encountered the creature.
“Mobilize the cannons,” Captain Durok grumbled. “When the scouts return with its whereabouts, we take form and march. It will submit to France or be slain as her enemy.”
This did little to ease tensions, and another debate was sparked. Before the arguments could unroll, a ruckus outside the suite’s door drew the attention of several. A woman’s voice clashed with two or more men’s, a pattern of stomps nearing the entrance. Suddenly, the door was kicked open so that bodies could spill into the chamber; two guards that could restrain Clara the lightkeeper only by her wrists and no more. Her anger drove her into the room while the two guards struggled to keep her held back.
“Th-This is a cl-classified meeting, madame!” one struggling soldier said. “You may not interrupt Captain Durok--”
“I want to see this so-called captain myself!” Clara hissed in the face of the soldier. She pried her arm loose, then struggled for the other, all while a space was made in the suite for the feud to continue. Her ire quickly spun onto the rest, “How dare you wear navy uniforms, all of you! Washed up on land and sitting on your hands, how typical!”
“What is this?!” Durok growled, earning himself as much space as Clara had. The two stared at each other from across the room, glare to glare. “You will wait with the other townspeople outside -- remove her this instant!”
“I-If we do, she’s going to chase the beast herself!” one of the soldiers stated, recovering from how Clara escaped his grasp. “She was doing as much when we caught her! Leaving town while rambling like she was mad!”
“I am mad! How could I not be mad?! My niece! My niece was taken from me!” Clara wailed, finding the power to break free from the second guard. She stumbled into the middle of the room, the center of attention but only willing to look Durok in the eyes. She could almost spit at him, “She’s been kidnapped and the lot of you do nothing about it! Heaven forbid I hadn’t squirmed free from that thing’s hand, or else I’d be just as left out to rot!”
Captain Durok was still. He slowly reeled back from his desk, his subordinates at the edge of his reply. “Your niece was kidnapped?”
“This is Clara, the lightkeeper,” Durok’s assistant said. “This is who we mentioned in the report for having first seen the giant.”
“I assumed as much,” Durok replied, “but to think that this creature is kidnapping young women, that’s preposterous. A waste of our time.”
The navy uniforms were sucked into Clara’s appalled expression. “H-How dare you! My niece was stolen, sh-she’s in danger!”
“She was in danger, and now she’s dead,” Durok growled. “That beast took and killed her, like it will do to our town or another if it isn’t stopped soon.”
“She isn’t dead!” Clara shook her head, making a wild throw of her hair. “She…!”
“What else would a beast like that do with a woman in its fist?! A monster that can turn around a ship and demolish a church is not going to merely kidnap your niece, and if you truly want vengeance for her, then you will cease distracting us. Return to your lighthouse and work as you’re meant to, just as I will work on slaying the beast! You will know peace when you see its head dragged by my stallion through the streets, and only then will I next see you as a face in the crowds! Away with you!”
Durok’s wave of his hand signaled for his soldiers to restrain Clara again. Distraught by what she had been told, Clara had less fight in her to resist those that urged her towards the exit. “You’re…! You’re a pig! A fat pig for glory and nothing else!” she shouted from the doorway. “The navy is a sham! All of you should be disgusted, claiming to protect the people…!”
As soon as the doors closed on Clara’s final remarks, the discussions picked up where they had been left off. Durok was swarmed with questions while Clara was escorted out of the building and dismissed into the crowd. Townsfolk jeered and demanded answers from the guards sooner than they sought to help Clara, but the navy refused to comment. Clara couldn’t stay to protest any further, abandoning the navy for help. As she rode her horse back to the lighthouse, she murmured more denials of Sophie’s death.
Galloping through the town was a tour of last night’s devastation. The night no longer hid the destruction, allowing all to see for themselves the mess left behind in the monster’s wake. Clara slowed her steed to a trot as she passed through groups of onlookers, taking time for herself to reflect on matters. It frightened her in small chills to see the debris uncovered; the smashed-up cobble roads, the caved-in roof of the tavern, and of course, further along that road, the church. Inspectors were scattered both in and out of the crumbled walls, moving aside debris so that relics and texts could be preserved. Many still flocked to the church and even practiced service outside, led by a pastor who swore god would smite the beast for this transgression.
Clara bitterly looked away from where people gathered, fidgeting to fix her mess of graying hair so that she could focus ahead on the lighthouse. It was so distant from the town on its plateau, just as she preferred. People were complicated and even more so during times of war. Solitude with her family was all she wanted, to be away from the community. When folks on the street offered their prayers to her and wished her well in regards to Sophie, she said nothing more than a huff.
“None of them care… They don’t care… None of them…” Clara repeated as much along the winding path up to the lighthouse. The smoldered peak of the structure stood out, tarnishing the tranquility of the tower. Even the seagulls avoided it like a disease. “None of them… Just like before… None of-- hrm?”
As she reached the gate, Clara saw a stranger patrolling the perimeter, carrying with him some sort of log book. “What is the meaning of this?” she spoke up, a grumble that became a bark at the man, taking him by surprise. She hurried her horse up the rest of the steep path, but before she could rail into the uniformed man, she discovered a slew of others just like him, all in different corners of the property. She gasped, “What are you all here for?! Get out of my yard, get out!”
The man at the gate raised his hands to bring Clara to a slow, soon joined by two others who did the same. The horse whinnied in frustration from being blocked, but Clara was even more upset. Speaking over the horse, the man explained, “Lightkeeper, we are investigators sent from the navy! We have official business to be here, documentation and everything!”
“What business is this? Invading my privacy? Where does it say that?!” Clara growled, glaring down at these inspectors. When she was offered to review the permissions, she snatched up the sheet and let the sea breeze steal it away without so much as a glance. While the inspector stumbled to stop it from flying off, Clara bullied her way through the entrance and bypassed the other two guards. “Where are my children?! Did you lock them in a cell?!”
A rushed gaze around the yard had her find her children huddled at the door of the house. All six were staring at the inspectors with wide eyes, clueless as to what everything meant. Clara hurried to them, hopping off her horse and running ahead to embrace them all in her arms. “Thank heavens, oh thanks heavens at least you’re all safe…”
An inspector spoke from behind the reunion. “Madame, you are the lightkeeper, correct?” Clara groaned, but the inspector went on, “We have questions to ask you regarding last night and what you saw of this, er, beast.”
The eldest of the children lifted his head. “Mama…? Who are these…?”
Clara sighed. “Dogs.”
“They don’t look like dogs,” the child giggled.
“No, they are a bit uglier, aren’t they.” Clara rose from her children, using her body to keep them blocked inside the house while she turned towards the inspector. “What questions? What do I know that the whole town doesn’t now know?”
If cooperating with the navy was the sure way to have them disperse, then Clara was more than willing to oblige. She walked to the center of the yard with the inspector, recollecting all that had happened last night. In the haze of memories, reality had to be filtered from madness. Images of the night flashed in her mind like lightning as she gazed up the lighthouse. What did she witness? She hesitated to say anything too careless. Did she truly hear the beast speak a human language? Did it move and act like any of them? Doubt traced those thoughts as she selected her words for the inspector -- this was a monster she saw; that everyone saw. She would no longer be considered the insane lightkeeper.
“It was… a giant,” she began, with the most striking of all details. “It was about… as tall as the lighthouse. Prying into it, looking for something… It had risen from the ocean, still drenched in water as it lumbered around here. It was like a warrior and animal combined… with a thick mane of black hair. Huge feet that could shatter wagons like branches, and hands that could take… anything, anyone. Strong, impossibly strong and ferocious. A hunter -- it chased me all the way into town! It wanted me! It had Sophie, i-it had her, and…”
“Aunt Clara?” Like a wind chime did the voice chip in from behind Clara. Her and the inspector both turned to the lighthouse’s entrance where they were greeted by Sophie herself, carrying with her a loose bag stockpiled with books and other things. Her outfit had not changed since last night, still wearing the long nightgown and boots that were now dusted with sand. “There you are, Aunt Clara! I was looking for--”
“Sophie, Sophie!” Clara abandoned the conversation with the inspector so that she could hurry to her niece. Halfway up the stoop up to the door, the two met and hugged, separated only by the items Sophie had collected. Clara sighed into her shoulder, “You’re not gone, y-you’re home! I was worried about you, Sophie! What happened?! D-Did you escape the beast?! How did you get here?!”
Sophie laughed and nudged her aunt out of the embrace. “Haah, you sound just like one of these officers, all of these questions so suddenly…” She offered a half-smile with so many thoughts wanting to be said, but she had to begin somewhere. “I was… let go. She let me leave -- Moana didn’t want to hurt me, or anyone.”
Clara’s smile was unbeaten, but her eyes curved with concern. “What are you saying? Mo...ana?”
“Well, she’s… Moana,” Sophie chuckled. “You called her, just now, the beast, but she’s not at all! I told the scouts the same thing when we met on my way back. They were following her trail when they came across me and then took me back here. I only just got back, actually, um…” She glanced at all the items she had in her arms, adjusting her balance so that an inkwell would not roll off the pile. “I’m going back, in fact! I told her I’d show her some books!”
“Her? G-Going back-- Sophie, Sophie, goodness!” Clara took Sophie by her arms, nearing her close for another hug. “Do not be ridiculous! Did you catch a cold? You should be too stupid to catch one -- get to bed and have the boys fix you something warm to eat, child.”
Clara tugged on Sophie to follow her, but she only allowed herself to be pulled down the stoop and no further. She stood her ground, “A-Aunt Clara, I’m not sick. I feel fine, I feel… rather alive! It’s amazing, M-Moana is really something out of a storybook! She isn’t mean or awful, not at all. She’s just confused! This isn’t her land. She told me, she just wants to go back home.”
“Ohh, you and those stories,” Clara shook her head haggardly. “What is your brain rotten with, to think of all this for a monster? Please, child, this isn’t a matter to joke about!”
“Jokes? There’s no joke…” Sophie’s shoulders dropped, risking another spilling of things unless she corrected herself. Affirming her posture, she also found confidence to argue, even against her beloved aunt. “What you said about Moana is all wrong. You were scared and confused, just like she was. Just like I was. We’re not monsters, just like she isn’t one. Aunt Clara, please--”
“Did you tell this wild story to these dogs?” Clara interjected harshly, pointing an unforgiving finger at the inspector that still followed the two. Sophie nodded weakly, enough to jerk another sharp comment, “Are you trying to embarrass us, Sophie? What will the townspeople say if they hear you telling something so… outrageous!”
“Maybe…” Sophie mulled it over, looking to the cloudy sky. “... Welcome back, Sophie! We’re glad you’re alive and we missed you and we believe you! Because you were there! Maybe that’s what they’d say. We can go tell them and see.”
Clara was unamused by this cutesy act. “I couldn’t convince that pig Durok you were even alive! He wouldn’t lend an ear to a tale this ridiculous.”
“Well he should know already about it! Those soldiers said they would tell him themselves!” Sophie nodded to the distant coast of the town’s harbor. “I told them exactly what I told you. I suppose we’ll hear soon enough what he does about it! He has no reason to disbelieve me--”
“What is he doing?” Clara pointed to the harbor as she walked closer to the peninsula’s ledge. Sophie followed her gaze as did the inspector, all taking note of the movement happening at the docks. Navy ships were swarmed by the honorable blue uniforms, quickly unloading equipment onto land and then taking formation further up the roads. Blocks of soldiers were centered around their many cannons, the weapons propped onto carts that could be easily dragged into a frontline battle. If the cannons had not been purposed for travel, then they were being worked on swiftly to fit their needs. Rarely ever did the navy show such organization on land, their strict formations pushing aside the usual traffic of the town in their display of strength.
“Hmm… They’re certainly busy,” Sophie commented, a hint of dread in her tone as she then began to worry what the movement meant. It was a hard explanation for her to accept, but there was no doubt that the navy was mobilizing an attack on Moana. Her return to the town was meant to ease tensions, but it had only sparked the inevitable.
Clara scoffed at the resources being arranged for such a matter. “That captain can’t win himself a battle at sea so he has to pick one on land. That’s all this war has ever meant to him and now he’s washed ashore to take his anger out on whatever crosses him.” She turned, but the image of a distressed Sophie anchored her. The salty winds blew in her direction, down the path towards town. “Whether or not she’s a monster… it won’t stop those cannons from being lit.”
“... He’s… confused,” Sophie said, her tongue tangled over that word -- but sure of it. “He doesn’t realize… I-I’ve got to talk to him myself. Yeah.” Drawn into action, Sophie crouched and set down the books and writing materials she had gathered there on the grass. “I’m going! I promised Moana I’d explain things!”
Sophie darted away, but Clara called out to her. “Don’t you be dumb, child! What are you possibly trying to do?!” She followed after her but without the spark Sophie had in her step. The commotion between them caught the attention of the navy inspectors. “You’ll get in their way, they’ll march right over you!”
“Can’t be scarier than a giant, I say!” Sophie smiled as she whisked off towards this exciting challenge, emboldened to prove her word to Moana. The thrill of disobeying her aunt energized her, and with the wish to hurry to town as fast as possible, she leaped onto the family horse. The horse promptly spat and kicked in response to Sophie’s sloppy mounting, and his dash towards the gate resulted in Sophie being tossed aside only ten meters ahead of where she started. Face-forward in the dirt, Sophie lay there without any motion while the horse trotted around her.
Clara groaned at the pathetic display, standing over her fallen niece. She frowned, looking to her and the horse and the inspectors and the town -- “What a ridiculous situation this all is,” she griped. “Sophie! Quit sitting in the dirt, child, and stand up! I’ll ride us into town. At least wipe off your face.”
Sophie lifted herself off the grass, dazed by the fall but befuddled more by Clara’s offer. She expected harsher criticism than that, and certainly not an insistence that she go along as well. “A-Aunt Clara, do you--”
“Believe what you said? Goodness, I don’t have time for stories,” the lightkeeper complained, “but I want to see that damned captain’s face when I prove to him my niece was alive all along. And he shouldn’t kick up so much dirt like he’s doing, he’ll get the whole town into trouble.” She waved at her horse then to bring it near. “Hurry, Sophie!”
Without further delay, Sophie was back on her feet and swiftly mounted on the horse. Nervous inspectors called for the duo to restrain themselves, fearful of what their captain would say if they were allowed to interfere. None of their warnings reached the aunt and niece as they rode off into town, where the navy’s best artillery was being scrambled for an expedition.
Two miles up the beach, waves crashed into a rocky steep, a jagged wall that extended into the ocean like a limb of the land. It hid a small gulf where the winds swirled about in its trap, gusts that chopped at the man that had scaled a stony peak. He was undisturbed by any recklessness of the sea, a veteran of all circumstances harsh and unforgiving; he was a pirate of a crew that was itself a force of nature.
The scope he had up to his eye was lowered, revealing the true surprise in his expression. He looked again, scouting the seaside town from afar with disbelief as to what he saw. The scene was too good to be true, and he knew better than to raise a false report to his captain. Only when he had confirmed it did he make the call, the scope still being looked through: “Get the captain! The town’s defenseless!”
“Defenseless?” another pirate, further down the slope, was pressed to ask. “You gone mad? I ain’t telling Captain fibs and jokes, she’ll gut us for that--”
“This is no damned joke! Get the captain before she guts us for not tellin’ her sooner!”
The crew of Luckless Leonie was stationed in the gulf, a storm brought to stillness just north of the town. Their cruelty and crimes had earned them a dire reputation across the beaches and islands of Europe, with murder and looting a routine in their renegade lives. Wherever their jolly roger was hoisted, misfortune was certain to arrive, and there at the gulf had they been biding their time, awaiting an opportunity to set sail once more.
A bottle of rum dropped onto the main deck from the level above it. The captain of the ship was hunched over the railing, looking at her empty hand which was scarred and dried by a life at sea. Luckless Leonie was unapproachable, seemingly unaffected by the world -- she stood silent and still, dulled eyes staring ahead at nothing, the thick weaves of black hair unmoving to the wind. Even her hat, once a navy’s captain that had since been desecrated with her own design, was unflinching atop her head, allowing only its plume to sway.
Leonie remained motionless as hurried footsteps raced to her position. Her only movement was to offer her vacant hand which flexed in demand. “Fetch me ‘nother,” she groaned, “I know we got more…”
“C-Captain Leonie,” the minion hiccuped, “there’s been a report from our scout. The town, i-it’s unguarded.”
Leonie’s hand fell to her side with a smack, disappointed to be unfilled. Her head slowly turned, “Durok just docked there… What makes anyone say the town is unguarded?”
“He’s, well… leaving! He’s rallying his troops, a-and dragging all the cannons with them! They’re headed out of town as we speak, captain!” Yet, the captain still did not budge from her hunch. “W-We don’t know why, captain, but it’s all true. In no more than an hour, the town surely couldn’t have anyone to defend it!”
Other pirates of the crew had gathered nearby, their rowdiness lowered to a suspenseful calm as they listened in on the report. All eyes were on Luckless Leonie, awaiting her judgement. Then, she finally moved, uncurling from the railing and taking towards the edge of the ship. Everyone she passed flinched from her path, allowing her to disembark and tread to the peak herself.
Leonie swiped the scope from her minion and lazily brought it to her eye -- so far, utterly speechless. The first she saw was a navy barque, the very vessel Captain Durok had sailed into town on. She spat at the sight, but what more she found made up for her disgust. Her bag-heavy eyes left the lens with a fresh spark of vigor. Though she did not break a smile, her dry lips parted as if she was enjoying another sip of her drink.
