"Detour" pt 2/?
Sep. 19th, 2005 02:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiTitle: Detour pt 2/?
Author: AkaiNagi
Fandom: AoS
Rating: PG so far
Classification: Adventure/Romance: MS, FOC. Romantic bits slow in coming.
Summary: The crew of the Nomad is forced to go ashore on a mysterious island. Evil wizards, kidnappings, mysterious strangers abound. Maybe they should have taken their chances at sea?
A few hours later found Firouz on the stern of the Nomad, tinkering with his wind machine, making the last of his modifications. He has serious doubts whether all this would do any good. Still, the thrill of a new experiment had him buzzing with excitement. He was oblivious to the stares of the crewmen, who were all wondering what the man had to be so happy about, since they were most likely all condemned to a slow death in the middle of the ocean.
But how could he not be excited? He was doing what he loved most in the conditions he best liked to do it. He worked best with two things; pressure and sea air. He had both in spades now. ‘I could do without that sea air being so hot, though,’ he thought as he stood to survey the last of his improvements. His vision swam a bit. He pulled a rag out of his belt and sponged the sweat out of his eyes. His vision still remained blurred. His dark, curly hair was matted to his head from the perspiration.
‘Dizziness … blurred vision … headache … excessive perspiration. ‘Hyperthermia,’ he diagnosed. He was coming down with a handy case of heatstroke. Squinting at the sky, he noticed that the sun had moved quite a bit to the west. Had he really been working for that long? He surrendered for the need for a break, and for what limited shade could be found above deck. He sat down in a shaded patch next to the cabin.
He wondered how Maeve was doing. He hoped she came up with something good. Science alone would not be enough to get the Nomad moving again. Not that he would ever admit to anyone that science, for once, needed the help of magic.
Firouz was startled by a movement beside him, and looked up to see Rongar beside him. The Moor held a cup of water in his outstretched hand. Firouz accepted gratefully and downed it in a couple large gulps. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.
Rongar crouched down next to Firouz. With the efficient hand gestures the inventor had come to know quite well, Rongar asked how work was coming on the machine.
“I’m nearly done,” he answered. I just have to calculate the placement. I hope Maeve has had some luck with her spells.”
Rongar nodded, then gestured to the sun, stating the obvious.
“It’s roasting,” Firouz agreed. “Not that it seems to bother you.” Rongar was barely breaking a sweat.
The moor smiled and shrugged. He was a hardy type. Firouz supposed that having your tongue cut out and being banned from your homeland on penalty of death would do that to a person.
Firouz looked over at his machine. He really should get back to work. He wanted to be ready when Maeve was. But what if it didn’t work? He tried never to dwell on the possibility of failure. Confidence in your abilities is an inventor’s most valuable tool, his father had taught him. Sometimes, though, the fear that his best efforts wouldn’t be enough were too strong to quash completely.
The shouting of Massoud, up in the crow’s nest jerked him out of his reverie.
“Land ho!” the man called, pointing to the northern horizon.
Rongar was already halfway to the cabin, off to fetch the Sinbad, by the time Firouz was even on his feet. ‘Must be a mistake,’ he thought as took the magnascope from its pouch on his belt and used it to scan the horizon. ‘There shouldn’t be any land near here. Must be a hallucination from the heat and overexposure to the - … wait a minute…’
Far in the distance on the starboard side, a distinct mass rose up out of the ocean. ‘How did Massoud even see that? It must be hours away.’
“Firouz!” Sinbad called as he emerged from the cabin.
Firouz handed the magnascope to the captain. Doubar, Maeve and most of the crew stood behind him, waiting for confirmation that they weren’t going to perish out here after all. “It certainly appears to be a land mass of some kind,” Firouz reported. “Perhaps a small island.”
The captain peered through the device of a moment before answering. “It looks like an island alright.” Sinbad was puzzled. “But I didn’t see any nearby islands on the map, and surely we didn’t drift that far off course …”
Firouz shrugged. He had been thinking the same thing.
“Never mind, how it came to be there, little brother,” Doubar interjected. “It’s a gift. One with fresh water and maybe even a town.” Doubar got a wistful look in his eye.
Sinbad know his brother’s head was filling with images of grog-filled taverns and comely island wenches already. He grinned. “Right you are, Doubar. We head for the island,” he called to his crew. “Maeve, Firouz, are you two ready? We could sure use a good breeze to get us on our way.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Maeve answered.
Firouz replied that he needed a few more moments to prepare. “I need to calculate the optimum position for the-“
“Good. Do it,” Sinbad cut him off.
Firouz went back to his machine, grumbling about the fact that no one ever seemed to want his explanation for anything.
Sinbad watched from nearby as Firouz directed Doubar and Rongar to maneuver the large clunky machine into the ‘optimum position.’ He was more disturbed than he let on about the mysterious island that appeared from nowhere. But they had no choice but to head for it. He hated not having a choice.
Firouz finally got his machine where he wanted it. Or rather, Doubar and Rongar finally refused to move it for the umpteenth time. Maeve, spellbook in hand, took up position beside the contraption. She was in what Sinbad had come to regard as her full conjuring mode. His expression was one of grim concentration.
The tireless Doubar took on the task of cranking the big machine. Whatever improvements Firouz made, they obviously did the trick. The sails began to immediately blow outward.
Sinbad decided that no matter how efficient Firouz’s machine was, Maeve’s method of wind production was far more pleasing to the eye. With one arm cradling her spellbook, and the other outstretched towards the sails, she made a picture that was simultaneously beautiful and frightening. Seeing her everyday aboard ship, he sometimes forgot the kind of power she carried around inside her. Had she really only been with them on the Nomad for less than a year now? She seemed ages removed from what she had been; a mere magician’s apprentice, lacking in skill and confidence, but yet still trying to prove herself to everyone.
As time slipped by, the Nomad picked up speed. She was moving at a good pace now. At this rate, they’d arrive at the island well before nightfall. ‘That is, if Maeve and Doubar can keep this up,’ Sinbad thought to himself. Doubar was looking red in the face. The heat was taking its toll, but he stubbornly refused to let Rongar relieve him. And Maeve would probably conjure until she dropped. She could be as stubborn as Doubar.
As if on cue, the incantations stopped. Maeve swayed drunkenly, and probably would have collapsed on the deck if Sinbad hadn’t gotten there to help hold her up.
Doubar stopped cranking and Firouz rushed over to see what happened.
“Maeve!” Sinbad tried to shake her out of her trancelike state. “Maeve, are you alright?”
Maeve just looked at him dumbly for a moment, her wide green eyes not registering anything. Then she snapped out of it.
“Hey! What’s the big idea!” she snapped, and pushed him away.
Sinbad smiled awkwardly. That was his Maeve. “You almost went face-first onto the deck,” he informed her.
She straightened herself up proudly. “Yeah, well I’m fine now. I just lost my concentration, that’s all. Now let’s get back to it, that island’s not getting any closer.”
Sinbad shook his head emphatically. “I’m afraid not, you’re taking a break.” She started to protest. “And so is Doubar,” he added.
“Hey!” his brother protested.
“We don’t need you two exhausting yourselves,” he insisted.
Firouz offered his opinion. “Sinbad’s right. You shouldn’t overexert yourselves in this heat.”
Maeve and Doubar both glowered at him and stalked off to some shade. ‘Remind me to be nice to Firouz in the near future,’ he told himself.
That’s how it went for the next few hours. Doubar and Maeve would crank and conjure, then they would both grumble off to a reluctant break. By the time they reached the small bay, the sun was setting in the West. Sinbad was just thankful it wasn’t completely dark. He didn’t relish the thought of pulling into a strange cove in the pitch of night.
He sent an exhausted Maeve and Doubar to get some rest, informing the crew that they would head ashore at first light to gather water, fruit, and anything else they could lay their hands on. He was just about to head off to sleep himself, when he spied Firouz up in the bow. The inventor was looking through his magnascope at the shore. The light of the full moon gave the island in front of them an eerie glow.
Firouz heard Sinbad come up behind him. “This island has some unusual geographical features for such a small land mass,” he told the captain.
Sinbad chuckled. “And you’ll get to see them all up-close and personal tomorrow, Firouz. Now go get some rest.”
Firouz reluctantly handed the magnascope to Sinbad and headed for the cabin.
Sinbad stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “That was good work you did today. We wouldn’t have made it here without your invention.”
Firouz looked flustered. “Well, Maeve and Doubar did a lot of the hard work. I just-“
“Firouz.”
“Yes?”
“Just take the compliment, okay?”
The inventor grinned. “Aye, captain. Thank you.” Firouz hurried off to the cabin, still smiling. He was an easy man to please.
Sinbad looked at the island, wondering what it contained. Something about it made him uneasy. Or maybe what really made him uneasy was the fact that finding the island didn’t solve their real problem. Sure, they wouldn’t starve now, but what would they do with no wind? If the wind really was being held back by magic, who was to know when it would come back? He gave the island one last look before he went below deck, wondering how long they were going to be stuck there.
Sinbad woke before dawn to make sure all was ready to go ashore at first light. As he stood on the deck of the Nomad, he decided that the island looked much less sinister in the daylight than it did under the light of the moon. It looked like any other small island, except for the strange rock formation that jutted up from its center. Too tall for a hill, and too small for a mountain, he had never seen the likes of it.
Dawn had just broken when a tired, sullen looking Maeve came above deck, strapping her sword to her side as she walked. Sinbad strode over to bid her good morning, but it came out of his mouth differently than he had planned.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked bluntly.
Maeve glowered at him. The way her temperament looked this morning, he was lucky she didn’t try to singe his hide with a fireball. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked threateningly.
‘It means you look like you’ve been keelhauled couple of times and then hung from the mast all night.’ But this time he thought before he spoke. “You look a little tired, is all,” he said in his most placating tone.
Maeve sighed and stared off at the island. “It’s the dreams,” she admitted quietly. “They’re getting stronger. They have something to do with this place.”
Sinbad looked at her skeptically. “This little island? Are you sure?”
She glowered at him again. “No, I’m not sure,” she grumbled. “It’s a feeling, like everything else. But so far my record for creepy feelings is pretty close to perfect.” She gestured to the shore, “and this place gives my feelings the creeps.”
Sinbad decided to risk a fireballing twice in one morning. “You know you don’t have to come with us. If this place doesn’t sit right with you, you can mind the ship. We’re just collecting some supplies, anyway”
Maeve shook her head. “I’m not staying on the ship. Besides, if this island is as much trouble as my gut says it is, you’re going to need me.”
That surprised Sinbad. He had expected the same scathing lecture about male chauvinism he had gotten the last time he suggested she stay behind. She was very … subdued today. He watched the redhead as she held her arm into the air for her hawk, Dermott to land on. She stared at the bird and Sinbad knew they were conversing in the silent language that only the two of them understood. At least the bird understood her. He was beginning to despair that he ever would.
Doubar’s booming voice called out across the deck. “Little brother! Ready to go exploring?”
Doubar, Rongar, Firouz and the other crew going ashore were gathered by the boats, waiting for them. Trouble or not, they were going to that island.
Back to pt 1
On to part 3
Author: AkaiNagi
Fandom: AoS
Rating: PG so far
Classification: Adventure/Romance: MS, FOC. Romantic bits slow in coming.
Summary: The crew of the Nomad is forced to go ashore on a mysterious island. Evil wizards, kidnappings, mysterious strangers abound. Maybe they should have taken their chances at sea?
A few hours later found Firouz on the stern of the Nomad, tinkering with his wind machine, making the last of his modifications. He has serious doubts whether all this would do any good. Still, the thrill of a new experiment had him buzzing with excitement. He was oblivious to the stares of the crewmen, who were all wondering what the man had to be so happy about, since they were most likely all condemned to a slow death in the middle of the ocean.
But how could he not be excited? He was doing what he loved most in the conditions he best liked to do it. He worked best with two things; pressure and sea air. He had both in spades now. ‘I could do without that sea air being so hot, though,’ he thought as he stood to survey the last of his improvements. His vision swam a bit. He pulled a rag out of his belt and sponged the sweat out of his eyes. His vision still remained blurred. His dark, curly hair was matted to his head from the perspiration.
‘Dizziness … blurred vision … headache … excessive perspiration. ‘Hyperthermia,’ he diagnosed. He was coming down with a handy case of heatstroke. Squinting at the sky, he noticed that the sun had moved quite a bit to the west. Had he really been working for that long? He surrendered for the need for a break, and for what limited shade could be found above deck. He sat down in a shaded patch next to the cabin.
He wondered how Maeve was doing. He hoped she came up with something good. Science alone would not be enough to get the Nomad moving again. Not that he would ever admit to anyone that science, for once, needed the help of magic.
Firouz was startled by a movement beside him, and looked up to see Rongar beside him. The Moor held a cup of water in his outstretched hand. Firouz accepted gratefully and downed it in a couple large gulps. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.
Rongar crouched down next to Firouz. With the efficient hand gestures the inventor had come to know quite well, Rongar asked how work was coming on the machine.
“I’m nearly done,” he answered. I just have to calculate the placement. I hope Maeve has had some luck with her spells.”
Rongar nodded, then gestured to the sun, stating the obvious.
“It’s roasting,” Firouz agreed. “Not that it seems to bother you.” Rongar was barely breaking a sweat.
The moor smiled and shrugged. He was a hardy type. Firouz supposed that having your tongue cut out and being banned from your homeland on penalty of death would do that to a person.
Firouz looked over at his machine. He really should get back to work. He wanted to be ready when Maeve was. But what if it didn’t work? He tried never to dwell on the possibility of failure. Confidence in your abilities is an inventor’s most valuable tool, his father had taught him. Sometimes, though, the fear that his best efforts wouldn’t be enough were too strong to quash completely.
The shouting of Massoud, up in the crow’s nest jerked him out of his reverie.
“Land ho!” the man called, pointing to the northern horizon.
Rongar was already halfway to the cabin, off to fetch the Sinbad, by the time Firouz was even on his feet. ‘Must be a mistake,’ he thought as took the magnascope from its pouch on his belt and used it to scan the horizon. ‘There shouldn’t be any land near here. Must be a hallucination from the heat and overexposure to the - … wait a minute…’
Far in the distance on the starboard side, a distinct mass rose up out of the ocean. ‘How did Massoud even see that? It must be hours away.’
“Firouz!” Sinbad called as he emerged from the cabin.
Firouz handed the magnascope to the captain. Doubar, Maeve and most of the crew stood behind him, waiting for confirmation that they weren’t going to perish out here after all. “It certainly appears to be a land mass of some kind,” Firouz reported. “Perhaps a small island.”
The captain peered through the device of a moment before answering. “It looks like an island alright.” Sinbad was puzzled. “But I didn’t see any nearby islands on the map, and surely we didn’t drift that far off course …”
Firouz shrugged. He had been thinking the same thing.
“Never mind, how it came to be there, little brother,” Doubar interjected. “It’s a gift. One with fresh water and maybe even a town.” Doubar got a wistful look in his eye.
Sinbad know his brother’s head was filling with images of grog-filled taverns and comely island wenches already. He grinned. “Right you are, Doubar. We head for the island,” he called to his crew. “Maeve, Firouz, are you two ready? We could sure use a good breeze to get us on our way.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Maeve answered.
Firouz replied that he needed a few more moments to prepare. “I need to calculate the optimum position for the-“
“Good. Do it,” Sinbad cut him off.
Firouz went back to his machine, grumbling about the fact that no one ever seemed to want his explanation for anything.
Sinbad watched from nearby as Firouz directed Doubar and Rongar to maneuver the large clunky machine into the ‘optimum position.’ He was more disturbed than he let on about the mysterious island that appeared from nowhere. But they had no choice but to head for it. He hated not having a choice.
Firouz finally got his machine where he wanted it. Or rather, Doubar and Rongar finally refused to move it for the umpteenth time. Maeve, spellbook in hand, took up position beside the contraption. She was in what Sinbad had come to regard as her full conjuring mode. His expression was one of grim concentration.
The tireless Doubar took on the task of cranking the big machine. Whatever improvements Firouz made, they obviously did the trick. The sails began to immediately blow outward.
Sinbad decided that no matter how efficient Firouz’s machine was, Maeve’s method of wind production was far more pleasing to the eye. With one arm cradling her spellbook, and the other outstretched towards the sails, she made a picture that was simultaneously beautiful and frightening. Seeing her everyday aboard ship, he sometimes forgot the kind of power she carried around inside her. Had she really only been with them on the Nomad for less than a year now? She seemed ages removed from what she had been; a mere magician’s apprentice, lacking in skill and confidence, but yet still trying to prove herself to everyone.
As time slipped by, the Nomad picked up speed. She was moving at a good pace now. At this rate, they’d arrive at the island well before nightfall. ‘That is, if Maeve and Doubar can keep this up,’ Sinbad thought to himself. Doubar was looking red in the face. The heat was taking its toll, but he stubbornly refused to let Rongar relieve him. And Maeve would probably conjure until she dropped. She could be as stubborn as Doubar.
As if on cue, the incantations stopped. Maeve swayed drunkenly, and probably would have collapsed on the deck if Sinbad hadn’t gotten there to help hold her up.
Doubar stopped cranking and Firouz rushed over to see what happened.
“Maeve!” Sinbad tried to shake her out of her trancelike state. “Maeve, are you alright?”
Maeve just looked at him dumbly for a moment, her wide green eyes not registering anything. Then she snapped out of it.
“Hey! What’s the big idea!” she snapped, and pushed him away.
Sinbad smiled awkwardly. That was his Maeve. “You almost went face-first onto the deck,” he informed her.
She straightened herself up proudly. “Yeah, well I’m fine now. I just lost my concentration, that’s all. Now let’s get back to it, that island’s not getting any closer.”
Sinbad shook his head emphatically. “I’m afraid not, you’re taking a break.” She started to protest. “And so is Doubar,” he added.
“Hey!” his brother protested.
“We don’t need you two exhausting yourselves,” he insisted.
Firouz offered his opinion. “Sinbad’s right. You shouldn’t overexert yourselves in this heat.”
Maeve and Doubar both glowered at him and stalked off to some shade. ‘Remind me to be nice to Firouz in the near future,’ he told himself.
That’s how it went for the next few hours. Doubar and Maeve would crank and conjure, then they would both grumble off to a reluctant break. By the time they reached the small bay, the sun was setting in the West. Sinbad was just thankful it wasn’t completely dark. He didn’t relish the thought of pulling into a strange cove in the pitch of night.
He sent an exhausted Maeve and Doubar to get some rest, informing the crew that they would head ashore at first light to gather water, fruit, and anything else they could lay their hands on. He was just about to head off to sleep himself, when he spied Firouz up in the bow. The inventor was looking through his magnascope at the shore. The light of the full moon gave the island in front of them an eerie glow.
Firouz heard Sinbad come up behind him. “This island has some unusual geographical features for such a small land mass,” he told the captain.
Sinbad chuckled. “And you’ll get to see them all up-close and personal tomorrow, Firouz. Now go get some rest.”
Firouz reluctantly handed the magnascope to Sinbad and headed for the cabin.
Sinbad stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “That was good work you did today. We wouldn’t have made it here without your invention.”
Firouz looked flustered. “Well, Maeve and Doubar did a lot of the hard work. I just-“
“Firouz.”
“Yes?”
“Just take the compliment, okay?”
The inventor grinned. “Aye, captain. Thank you.” Firouz hurried off to the cabin, still smiling. He was an easy man to please.
Sinbad looked at the island, wondering what it contained. Something about it made him uneasy. Or maybe what really made him uneasy was the fact that finding the island didn’t solve their real problem. Sure, they wouldn’t starve now, but what would they do with no wind? If the wind really was being held back by magic, who was to know when it would come back? He gave the island one last look before he went below deck, wondering how long they were going to be stuck there.
Sinbad woke before dawn to make sure all was ready to go ashore at first light. As he stood on the deck of the Nomad, he decided that the island looked much less sinister in the daylight than it did under the light of the moon. It looked like any other small island, except for the strange rock formation that jutted up from its center. Too tall for a hill, and too small for a mountain, he had never seen the likes of it.
Dawn had just broken when a tired, sullen looking Maeve came above deck, strapping her sword to her side as she walked. Sinbad strode over to bid her good morning, but it came out of his mouth differently than he had planned.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked bluntly.
Maeve glowered at him. The way her temperament looked this morning, he was lucky she didn’t try to singe his hide with a fireball. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked threateningly.
‘It means you look like you’ve been keelhauled couple of times and then hung from the mast all night.’ But this time he thought before he spoke. “You look a little tired, is all,” he said in his most placating tone.
Maeve sighed and stared off at the island. “It’s the dreams,” she admitted quietly. “They’re getting stronger. They have something to do with this place.”
Sinbad looked at her skeptically. “This little island? Are you sure?”
She glowered at him again. “No, I’m not sure,” she grumbled. “It’s a feeling, like everything else. But so far my record for creepy feelings is pretty close to perfect.” She gestured to the shore, “and this place gives my feelings the creeps.”
Sinbad decided to risk a fireballing twice in one morning. “You know you don’t have to come with us. If this place doesn’t sit right with you, you can mind the ship. We’re just collecting some supplies, anyway”
Maeve shook her head. “I’m not staying on the ship. Besides, if this island is as much trouble as my gut says it is, you’re going to need me.”
That surprised Sinbad. He had expected the same scathing lecture about male chauvinism he had gotten the last time he suggested she stay behind. She was very … subdued today. He watched the redhead as she held her arm into the air for her hawk, Dermott to land on. She stared at the bird and Sinbad knew they were conversing in the silent language that only the two of them understood. At least the bird understood her. He was beginning to despair that he ever would.
Doubar’s booming voice called out across the deck. “Little brother! Ready to go exploring?”
Doubar, Rongar, Firouz and the other crew going ashore were gathered by the boats, waiting for them. Trouble or not, they were going to that island.
Back to pt 1
On to part 3