The Baron's Fault (First Chapter)

Chapter 1 : The Raging Seas

The Baron held his head high, defiantly, steering the ship toward the growing land on the horizon. Hot on their tail, the purple waves of the raging sea rolled and broke with a thunderous din.

A cacophony of the waves splashing about, of the labouring of the crew, lowering sails and shouting, of the cormorants flying and croaking as elemental escorts to the ship. Morale was high despite the loss of their escort, the second ship. The Baron, steering the helm, secretly let go a sigh of relief. The worst was behind them, or so he hoped.

The air was filled with water droplets, but it wasn't humid. And despite the darkest night sky, a purple glow coming from the depths of the ocean allowed the crew to see clearly enough.

''I can't believe it, Baron.''

That was Sir Douth, the right-hand-man of the Baron. He was holding a handkerchief on his face, breathing through it, looking around. Holding tight on the ropes Douth made his way over to the Baron, his every moves uncertain.

''We've actually made it through the raging sea. Or perhaps this is merely a lull in the ocean's rage, cleverly lowering our guard to then swallow us whole?''

Douth rarely spoke much, and the Baron glanced over at him, turning the helm slightly. The tall, frail man added, with his usual scepticism;

''Perhaps it wasn't so wise to abandon our guide so rashly. You always take these sorts of decisions, that change everything.''

Douth coughed a few times and gazed toward their destination, the famed northern sphere. The Baron could see how relieved his old companion was, despite his words.

''Tell me, Douth, do you think the other ship will make it?''

Douth remained silent. He was looking straight ahead, to a sort of sad, lump of shadows on the horizon, contrasting with the strange purple hue of the ocean. Land!

The baron reached for his monocular, taking a closer look at their landing place. Douth replied at last, playing with his mustache, as if lost deep in thoughts.

''After all they were our ticket through the raging sea, yet we're in front of them. That's not a good omen.''

Baron turned his sights to the other side of the ship, toward the towering waves of amethyst behind them, that they just traversed. Long said to be the most treacherous route leading to the northern sphere, the raging sea was an oddity, an incomprehensible phenomena. Claiming the lives of countless sailors, and home to as many treasures, lost forever.

But Baron didn't believe in nonsense. Even though the route was far more perilous than the alternative, he believed he made the right decision, of course. After all following the coast would, yes, lead them to their destination safely, but it would take months longer. Months they didn't have.

Douth sighed and, putting his hand on Baron's shoulder, told him how relieved he was to still be alive.

''It would be a shame to die before getting our fair share of the reward, as you promised.''

Baron didn't answer, for there was nothing to say. Though underneath his beard he was smiling, for once again he proved Douth wrong. He proved them all wrong.

Quick steps on the deck made Douth uneasy. Climbing the stairs, a young man, his eyes wide open, a smile on his face, walking about without any problems in the swaying of the ship. The Baron pushed Douth away, and welcomed the young man.

''Come here, apprentice, take the helm for the rest of the night.''

The young man was no older than fifteen, and was full of potential, or so Baron thought. He let go of the helm, that span out of control, the ship leaning on the left. The apprentice caught it just in time, to the laughters of the Baron.

The crew, made up of almost fifty sailors were now singing chants in the calm of the sea. Baron put his hand on the boy's head and ruined his haircut, laughing even more.

''Listen, boy. One day, you'll have your own ship, and your own crew, and you'll do whatever you want.''

The apprentice looked up to him, and losing his smile, talked in a low voice.

''How are you sure about that, sir?''

The Baron laughed again, his eyes lost over the horizon. His hand reached for the boy's necklace, a jade talisman carved in the shape of a ship, with three mats and hundreds of sails. The necklace was a gift, a promise.

''That's how I know, boy. My father before me was the greatest captain to roam the royal spheres. And I am the Baron of the eastern sphere, known world wide. Just like my father and I, you'll become one of the greats, I am certain of it.''

The boy looked over the horizon as well, holding tight the helm, and on his cheeks, silent tears. He sniffed, and replied, almost whispering.

''Maybe I'll get to be great as well.''

Baron let go of the necklace and pushed the boy's head lightly, before leaving. His foosteps were heavy, and to the crashing of the waves on the ship, to the singing of the crew and to the howling of the winds he entered the cabin, closing the door without a sound.

Inside, his tiny cabin was almost pitch black, if not for the few candles on his desk, illuminating his official decrees and mandates, his thick journal and other trinkets, such as a brass ink seal, in the same design as the boy's talisman. The Baron's seal. And sitting loudly in his chair Baron let go of a deep long sigh, before writing down the day's events in the pages, that no one will ever read. Finishing up with a closing thought, Baron wrote in his unique cursive calligraphy;

''And now we have reached at last the northen sphere, home to sentient glaciers and mythical sea creatures, along with rumors of cursed smugglers. If I were Douth I'd write, I hope I wasn't wrong in undertaking this journey. But I am Baron, and with innate certitude I write, success or death, glory or vanity, sail on.''