Michael woke with a start only for his head to bounce off the wood of the deck where he collapsed. As his senses returned to him, a deep throbbing pain pulsed its way up his right arm. Instinctively, Michael flexed his hand and felt the pain increase. Then the memories of what he did replayed in his mind and he silently cursed himself for being so stupid. He knew better than to attempt to impart that much kinetic energy into an object, the equal and opposite force from the shard of wood would have transferred a force equal into his arm. He was surprised that he didn’t rip his arm off, in fact with the pain he felt before blacking out, he figured that was exactly what he had done. “I should probably find a healer” he muttered to himself as the world came back into focus around him, only to find Alexi slumped on the deck next to him. A surge of panic washed the pain away and he quickly moved beside her. Acting without thinking, he started checking the seelie for injuries, finding only minor cuts and bruises from a peppering of wood splinters. As he examined her hands, he found that she was cold, much too cold for the tropical heat and humid sea air, “Oh don’t tell me that you got a case of the vapors and fainted” he muttered as he continued to examine the unconscious seelie woman. A chuckle from behind him drew his attention to Bernard.

  “Easy there sonny, you’re acting like you have never seen someone experiencing mana depletion before.” Bernard’s deep voice carried away the anxiety that Michael felt tightening his chest.

  “Mana depletion? How long did the battle go on for?” Michael looked around, taking in the sights of the crew already starting to make repairs to the damaged mast and cleaning the puddle of blood from where the deckhand had fallen and another crew member standing close to him, clearly eager to start on the spattering of blood that came from his left arm being hit with flying debris. At the thought, Michael looked at his left arm, the only evidence of it being struck being new pink flesh running from his wrist all the way to his elbow. “It was a short battle wasn’t it?” Michael said, realizing that he never got an answer for Bernard as he looked up to the burly man with a brushy salt and pepper beard.

  “Sonny, there weren’t no battle, that clipper took some shots at us, and that poor laddie lost his head. Then you” the grizzled veteran waved his hand from Michael toward the still sinking clipper before he continued, “Look, I hain’t got the words to describe it. I hain’t never seen no such thang like that there.”

  Michael chuckled to himself, before sitting up. “So, I take it, I hurt myself pretty good with that little stunt, and Alexi had to save me… again?” He asked as he nodded his head toward the sleeping seelie.

  Bernard gave a nod, “You let out a screech like a mountain stalker, then dropped like your soul had been snatched out of you. Your arm done looked like a boned eel, just flopping about the deck. That lass done did her plumb best, but I reckon your arm still hurt something fierce. It looked and sounded like she hadda regrow them bones in your arm.” Bernard gave a shudder, before he continued, “It ‘minds me of a time Hal struck me shield with his mace, cracked my arm in half, I howled like a demon as the healer mended it.”

  “What were you and Hal fighting about?” Michael asked, trying to figure out why the mild mannered guard that protected his father’s store would hit Bernard hard enough to break his arm through a shield. The moment Michael had the thought, he had to shake his head, feeling a weird disconnect between the implanted memory from Creation and his actual lived experiences.

  “Well, you see, Hal’s got a sister.” Bernard started sheepishly.

  “Bernard, you cad. You had it on with Hal’s sister?” Michael blurted before Bernard could finish causing Bernard’s face to pinch in irritation.

  “I never treated her poorly, I’ll have you know, I made a respectable woman outta her.” Bernard chidded, his glare boring through Michael.

  Michael raised his hands in surrender, wincing as he moved his right arm, “Sorry Bernard, I didn’t mean to imply your actions were anything less than honorable.”

  “Nah lad, you were right, if I had it to do over, I’d’ven’t put her in the spot she was in. But we were young, and you know what they say about Vashani Blood, it runs hot.” The bulky man said with a grin, clearly remembering the fond times of his youth. “That said, Molly has been the best wife a man could hope for.”

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Michael couldn’t help but smile, “She sounds like a lovely woman, especially if she can put a smile on your sour face”, he teased.

  A groan from behind him, drew his attention to the seelie next to him. Michael watched as Alexi slowly started to come around. He suppressed a chuckle as he watched her cover a yawn, and he couldn’t help to find her cute, despite the small tears in her robes, disheveled hair, and the bruises he had noticed before. “Welcome back” he said softly, giving her a small smile.

  “Ugh… I hope you know this is your fault” Alexi said to Michael, her lips pressed thin as she fixed her green eyes on him. “That was the most foolish, and irresponsible thing I have ever witnessed! What were you thinking?” she said as she weakly batted Michael’s shoulder.

  Michael groaned at the impact on his shoulder, as it caused pain to lance down his bones, but he still gave her a rueful grin. “I’m fully aware that was stupid, I used my arm as an accelerator instead of just using magic to propel the shard of wood at the clipper. In retrospect, I’m happy to have my arm. I suppose that is thanks to you?” He asked Alexi.

  She gave him a soft smile which twisted into a thoughtful expression as she remembered something. “Speaking of tempting fate, that phrase you used, what language was that?”

  “Latin, or well, truth be told, probably heavily mispronounced Latin. Why?” He asked, picking up on her mixture of unease and curiosity.

  “It sounded very familiar to the language the gods speak among themselves.” Alexi answered, starting to chew on her bottom lip, “The phrase, did it mean ‘The powerful are favored by fortune?’” She added on after a brief moment.

  “We would say, ‘fortune favors the strong’, but yes. That is what it means.” Michael said, his eyes narrowed as he tried to puzzle things together. It was odd that a language that was close enough to Latin to be recognized was here, there was a bigger picture that he was missing. He had been wondering why he had been brought here, what truly special talent he had that made him a good fit for the task that the Primordial Beings decided he was the one for the task.

  “Michael, where did you go?” Alexi’s voice pulled him from his own thoughts and he muttered an expletive under his breath before looking at her.

  “Sorry, got lost in my own thoughts. Actually, I want to try something.” He said to her, before he focused his thoughts and started speaking in English, “Do you recognize this language?” He asked and watched her eyes narrow at him.

  “I don’t understand you, but that sounds like one of the languages of the Dweri” she admitted and then smirked as she watched Michael’s lips hook into a smirk as well.

  Michael closed his eyes and nodded as he listened to Alexi’s words, realizing that they sounded vaguely like some form of a Celtic language, he was no expert but it was somewhere between Welsh and Scottish to his ears. “I was testing something” he said, returning to Faedolic, “I find it fascinating that my native language sounds similar to a language group here and that the gods speak a language that is close enough to a language from my world that it is understandable.” He then tapped his chin as he thought of something for a moment. “I am going to say a few words, I don’t expect them to sound exactly like they should in Faedolic, but I want you to take a guess at what they mean, sound good?” Michael asked.

  Alexi just nodded and waited, making herself comfortable against the wall she was seated against.

  Michael nodded and said in English, “Whiskey”

  Alexi giggled, “You sound like a baby asking for a healing potion, literally we call healing potions, ‘Living Water’”, she explained to Michael.

  “Interesting, it is a distilled spirit traditionally made from malted barley that has been fermented. The word is a corruption of the…. I believe Scottish words… meaning ‘water of life’, so that it sounded close enough to the same, I do find it very interesting and a bit disconcerting.” Michael said then he said the next English word, “Clan”.

  “Group” Alexi replied with a grin, “But I am guessing it doesn’t mean the same thing.”

  Michael shook his head, “Family” he said with a smile. “I’m sure there are a few other words that I can think of, but I do think it is really interesting that it seems like Faedolic is similar to our ‘Celtic’ languages”. He then looked at Alexi, seeing that she was starting to recover a bit from her mana depletion and extended his hand. “Let’s get off the main deck, let the crew fix things up. Plus, you look a little sick. I don’t know if I should offer to get you bread and water, or if I should carry you off to bed.”

  Alexi gave Michael a teasing grin, “Oh? Do you aim to take advantage of me in my weakened state? After I made sure your arm wasn’t completely useless?” Her eyes sparkled with a teasing mirth that Michael had become familiar with in the handful of days that they had traveled together, but he could also see something that was unfamiliar in her eyes and he didn’t want to hazard a guess at its true meaning.