By the Sword (Update)

I am sorry I don’t have a fuller post this evening. I’ll try to finish this section, and edit it, tomorrow.

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You can imagine what it was like for a little thief to find himself in a world with nothing to steel. Back on our island I had perfected pickpocketing. No sailor was safe from me. Brother took whatever I earned in this regard, but it was never about the gold. You had to watch the person, be ready in a moment. The touch had to be as light as a feather, and quick like lightning. You had to watch out, make sure no one, not just the target of the theft, noticed anything.

Under the white bandages dark spots bled from my still seeping wounds. Looking into the dim reflection of a window my face reminded me of mother’s dress, the one with red roses. She wore it often in the summer, and the ship hands always smiled more when she walked by in it. They would tip more, too. When the sun was out she was always smiling, at her best. She died on a night like this, clear and calm. She died in the night without her son.

One by one the zombies began to corral themselves into the hull. A few of them remained on deck, staring out into the black horizon. Spying a dark figure to my left I made my way over, holding the handrail as I went. Describing one of these sailors described them all. Five feet and some inches, sandy brown hair, blue eyes, those were their features. All were uniformed in grey shirts, the sleeves came down to the wrist ending in frills, black trousers, and black boots. No one had a tattoo, an interesting scar, or uneven teeth.

They were collected from our raids. If anyone matched this description they were taken alive. I only ever saw it once. The man was bound, didn’t struggle, resting on his knees as Captain paced around him. The hair was grown out, down to the shoulders, and he watched the best he could, keeping his eye on the rotund dwarf circling him.

I couldn’t hear, but I suspect he was told to open his mouth. Captain looked down into it, peering this way and that. Nodding to the crewmen, they took the man. I doubt the prisoner knew what would come next. I saw him again, once I was let out. You grew to recognize the slight differences in this monotonous world. I recognized the face. His hair had been cut short, he wore the shirt and pants, he never spoke again.

Part 1: How I Joined the Crew ~A Short Story
Part 2: Discovered
Part 3: The Blackness of the Sea

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