This tale takes place in the land of Thael, a rich fantasy world and mythos developed over twenty years by the staff and youth of Renaissance Adventures who explore and co-create Thael through live-action roleplaying.
Link to Chapter 1:
@spark/chapter-1-the-pirate-s-last-wish-a-fantasy-tale-set-in-thael
The Pirate's Last Wish
Chapter Two
by Mark Hoge / Spark
A’ruin did not fear the djinni of the sea, though his cunning mind kept examining the situation from different perspectives. He felt cautious, but not afraid. And certainly he knew he had nothing to fear of his crew, even without his potent sword. He could take them all on with his runic magic and be victorious.
A’ruin turned and dove into the sea. Surfacing, he swam away from the ship, and turned to wait for the swift sea lion sorceress. She dove under the waters, and slipped up between two waves, not far from him. He approached cautiously, and was surprised when she gently embraced him.
He was tempted to kiss the beautiful lips of this fey creature, but caution overrode that impulse. Instead, he found himself asking, “May I kiss you?”
Her laugh was like the wind that tossed sea foam. “Is that your wish, oh Sparkle Eyes?”
Frowning, he saw his mistake. She could have chosen to grant that as a wish, and he would have lost a wish for a kiss. He relaxed, now, more than ever, believing her intent to be helpful to him, since she had not taken advantage of his momentary blindness.
“No. I am still pondering what to wish, my lovely mermaid. Perhaps,” he quickly added, “this is not my wish yet, but perhaps I will wish for a dragonblood blade. They are very valuable, and very powerful.”
“Would that make you happy, my Lord?” teased the wave-tossed maiden.
“Not if I lost it,” he replied distantly.
Thinking hard, A’ruin said, “Perhaps topaz and diamonds, gems to crush, ingredients for my arcane ink. I could scribe more runes of power upon my skin.”
“Would that make you happy, my Pouting Prince?” she taunted.
Frowning, he forced his lips to relax. “I never thought I would say this, but, I have all the power I need. No mortal can challenge me.”
A’ruin turned dark eyes upon the watching crew. They stood in suspense, unable to hear his conversation with the granter of wishes. “I could wish for a loyal crew,” he laughed bitterly. “A crew that would follow my orders without resentment.”
“Would that make you happy, my Tattoo-Wreathed Victor?”
A’ruin pondered that. “Yes, until I lost my crew in battle,” he grimaced, “or until they left. Then my wish would be gone.”
“Do you seek happiness, oh Pirate King?” asked the mermaid. “The tales speak of your many victories, yet your face is heavy-browed. Do you seek more happiness, my Mournful Monarch?”
A’ruin turned his dark eyes upon the bright blue eyes of the sea witch. He felt a stirring deep within his heart. He felt the ripple of a long-forgotten feeling of longing. Was it a longing for peace? A longing for happiness? A longing for … he dare not admit it … love?
A’ruin should have scowled then. He should have spat and growled, and gotten on with wishing for something rich and powerful. But he did not. Her eyes had captured him and soothed the restlessness. He realized she was humming lightly, a mysterious tune that he could not comprehend. Yet, he breathed deeper and relaxed. He should have steeled his will, and resisted her fey song. He knew he could have. But he didn’t. It felt too good to rest within the embrace of her peaceful melody and gaze.
Finally, A’ruin sighed. “I do seek more happiness. I do.”
The mermaid laughed; she sounded like a tinkling fountain of joy. She stroked the runes on his wet face, and murmured, “And happiness may not lie in more wealth, in more power, in more blades?”
“It does not.” A’ruin knew that. For he had wealth, and power, and blades.
Her hands lightly touched his shoulders, his strong arms and forearms, and then her hands nested in his hands.
“Is that your wish, A’ruin Runeson?” She spoke clearly and intently, “Do you wish for whatever will bring happiness to you?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Your wish is granted,” she smiled warmly, “or soon will be granted. I promise.”
He grinned dubiously at her. “How soon?” he pursued.
“Very, very soon. Now, go back to your ship. Are you not the Dread Captain?”
He frowned in earnest, as if unsure, then laughed heartily, and turned and stroked towards the ship. Her hands lightly swam down his back, his legs, and feet, as he left.
A’ruin felt light-headed, and light-hearted. Joy sang in his lungs, but pride kept the song from his lips. Climbing the rope ladder he felt a surge of vitality in his body, as he had not felt in years. He pulled himself up upon the deck, and perhaps for the first time ever, he grinned at his crew. But his laughing eyes and grin sank into a grim stare. The crew ranged in a semi-circle around him. Their eyes held astonishment, fear, shock. Then their eyes slowly shifted to hold something else, something dangerous, unpredictable. Many eyes turned to Tirin, the pantherlord First Mate. A murmur, a growl, and the sound of a storm building, and then the titanblood blade was unsheathed, held firmly in Tirin’s grip. His panther eyes grew cold and hard, and he glared at A’ruin Runeson.
A’ruin would have laughed, but he was too surprised. How dare they challenge him? In a flash he brought forth his hands to unleash the rain of ruin upon them. His mouth opened to issue the arcane commands, but he froze in shock. No runes shimmered upon his hands and arms. Looking down, his legs and torso also were bare of runes. He felt within him for the stored power. It was gone.
“NO!” he roared, realizing the witch had stolen his spells. “How?” A swift glance at her, and he saw her dissolving into seaweed and foam. Confused thoughts tumbled into clarity – she was no mermaid. She was an ancient spirit of nature. She was the archdeva of this harbor, and had lived for thousands of years, tending the plants and fish, and communing with generations of fishermen and clansmen who lived on the coast. The archdeva’s power was vast. Rare to ever see one, especially in mortal form and speaking with a mortal, yet A’ruin knew that only dragons, titans, and archdevas had the depth of power to strip him so thoroughly of his runes.
Tirin, cool green eyes fixed on A’ruin, charged towards the doomed man. Tirin was the crest of the wave of blades that crashed towards the stricken leader. A’ruin leapt to the side, and dodged. He disarmed a polar bear warrior and slew three men with the brorian’s axe. All the while, his furious mind raced, “How could I have been tricked? How could I have wanted to kiss that sea witch? She bewitched me! She charmed me with her song! I am betrayed!”
A’ruin spun, blocked two blows with a sweep of the axe. He cleaved the leg from a goblin sailor, and hefted the goblin up as a shield. Again and again the blades surged around him, amidst the thunderous shouts of the crew. Gashes sprouted on his skin like ruby runes. Men fell around him. Without his runes, he had no time to channel magic. Nevertheless, he was still a warrior. The axe in his grasp spun and whirled, parrying and striking left and right.
Amidst the roar of battle, a thrown mace struck his knee, and he stumbled, and in that moment the tidal wave of warriors swept him off his feet. Blades rose and fell, until his broken body was kicked from the ship.
Betrayed, A’ruin fell from his ship and was swallowed by the sea. His blood seeped from many gashes, and the cold water sucked the warmth from his body. On the ship above, his crew cheered, thankful to be rid of the pirate captain’s tyranny. They thought he was dead, but A’ruin Runeson was not dead yet.
A’ruin sank into the salty depths. He could not move. He could not even think. The rage that had flamed within him moments before was utterly extinguished. All that was left was the unblinking gaze of a dying man seeing a flash of color and memory that told his life’s tale within the span of a few heartbeats. That tale was interrupted.
A’ruin had never paid much attention to the ever-beating drum within his chest
until now, in its silence. His chilled blood slowed. Darkness yawned within him, enveloping the light of his consciousness. But this final moment heralded a last burst of memory, a review of the last five minutes of his life; the five minutes that had transformed him from the most dreaded pirate captain of the clans into a corpse, all because of one treacherous wish.
Slowly, the solid forms of three sharks materialized from the murky depths. Then the flowing green hair of the archdevic mermaid was between him and the sharks, and she stared deep into his unseeing eyes. She hummed and cooed a strange tune, and kissed him goodbye. And he died.
An eternity could have passed in that moment of dark stillness. And then he lived again. The spark of consciousness awoke within him. The gashes upon his form merged and healed. Breath returned to his lungs, and he realized the mermaid was breathing a sweet revitalizing breath into him. She swam him to the surface. Sharks swam all around, but her hand, lifting him up, made his body and spirit buoyant, and no fear tainted his being. He breathed the fresh salty air, and felt the tingle of life flowing in his limbs.
Far away on the horizon, he saw the life ship of his last twenty years skimming away. For some reason, he did not care. He would not have cared, even if he saw the ship splinter upon a cliff. Everywhere he looked, every sound he heard, charged him with joy. He was too high on life to think. Amazement and awe uplifted his past into the skies, and the swift wind tore his past into shreds, like a great cloud that is whirled into nothingness, leaving only the limitless clear blue.
The mermaid archdeva turned him to face her. Her eyes were deep and quiet. No smile was upon her lips.
She whispered to him, “Your wish is granted, for a time. Then you must find your true happiness. I wish you well.”
Her face was the last thing he saw. A strange light was filling his eyes. Joy tore his heart wide open. He roared in joyous release. Laughing, crying, singing, his voice was unleashed. His song unraveled the secret tapestry of his longing, and love, and joy; and the threads were carried by the wind, wide across the sea. Rivers of tears washed his eyes; tears of joy, tears of sorrow, tears of wonder, all mingled in a whirling maelstrom of emotion and spaciousness. He floated, oblivious to all, awash in the profound experience of seeing light everywhere, of appreciating the light in all, of being light.
TO BE CONTINUED
Link to Chapter 3
@spark/chapter-3-the-pirate-s-last-wish-a-fantasy-tale-set-in-thael
Introducing Mark Hoge / Spark
I LARP for a Living - I'm passionate about ethical leadership, experiential education, conflict resolution, conscious parenting, storytelling, fantasy writing, RPGs, and personal growth.
My Introduction Post:
@spark/introducing-mark-hoge-i-larp-for-a-living-i-m-passionate-about-ethical-leadership-experiential-education-conflict-resolution
An Invitation
Thanks for reading! I invite you to read, explore, engage, and dialogue with the coming posts I will slowly but surely be sharing.
~Spark
Mark Hoge, Director of Renaissance Adventures, LLC.
https://www.RenaissanceAdventures.com
Art credit for the artwork: Jojo Monson, https://www.etsy.com/shop/monsondesigns