New Horizon

Many days had passed since the angry wave tore The Sparrow apart leaving wreckage scattered across the seas. The first night was spent in song and vain hope of returning to shore unscathed. As the days slugged along there was little to do but concentrate on surviving until help could find them. Day by day more of the ship released to surrender to the depths; with the pieces floated more of her crew disappeared as well. Parched with no water and beating sun along with reflection from the waves her skin was burning and drying aging her before her very eyes. In those few days she had taken the look of the wizened old crones from her youth.
As Greyylene looked over her scattered crew helpless to bring them together she saw the fatigue settle over many of their faces. In a moment of delirium and utter desperation she hatched a plan to pull the little bits back as one. Ripping a bit of her robe into a long strip she attached one end to an arrow, took aim and released to her nearest crewman. Singing into the air and landing true near his head she began to draw him to her tying his piece to her own keeping them together. One after another the same process pulling almost 30 of her crew back to the main of the boat. Together their hope of survival was much stronger than floating desperate and alone. Now with the crew collected she began again to rally the spirits as one to the common goal; mending wounds, securing unconscious sailors fast to their planks and tying off planks as a raft those able helped those with little hope.
The nights lengthy and treacherous brought vigilant watch from the Captain to assure no more of her crew was lost to the sea. She had watched helpless as several men were dragged under by the slithering stealth vermin who preyed on the weak. Now with the remaining survivors at hand she was able to better protect against the night creatures from the murky deep.
Days had come and gone with no sign of rescue or land. When at last there were colors spotted in the distance they were the wrong ones. It was not the Red and Black of DAGR but the {Blue and White} of the USN. Disbelief and a sense of dread settled deep into her heart knowing they would not take kindly to finding an enemy lost in their waters. Regardless of mending relations there were still those who would think nothing of taking a Pirate head as a trophy. Setting aside her misgivings she took yet another piece of her robe and securing it to the end of an arrow lit it and let it fly as high into the air as her weakened state allowed. She could only hope they would show mercy on her diminished crew. She knew she could handle more time in the USN jail cell, but her concern was for her crew. Relief and concern took her mind as the Navy vessel came about and slowed heading toward her wounded ship, if it could still be called a ship.
Barely realizing the significance of the name appearing off her port bow ropes and baskets were lowered from the EXETER to assist. Watching as each mate disappeared over the rail she waited until all were safe aboard before at last grabbing a line to slowly begin her assent. Looking back at the ship that had served her so well for such a long time a part of her heart and soul began to sink with the remaining fragments of her former life.
Weak and battered once aboard she could not even stand to face her accusers. Falling to her knees she was shocked to see the Commodore Tiberius striding to her, a strange look of concern and relief on his face.
“I sent a pigeon to Port Baldmore, how is it You find me?”
As he knelt beside her explaining all the events of the recent past her mind and heart were a flurry of despair. No wonder they had not answered. There was nothing left for her, too weak she could not even return to her own dying ship. Her family, her village, her clan and now her home all had been torn from her, there was nothing left for her. She hung her head considering the options and was about to suggest that the Commodore return her to her ship he leaned close and whispered words that untied ever last string of self control. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as realization set like bricks around her.
Her only strength left as she gazed into the heavens was to whisper “Nelgethaun”.

~The End~