Feldare Tales: That Sinking Feeling
As he watched the elf lie there, he found that he liked her appearance more and more. She was exotic, to be certain, but she was definitely female, and had a very nice and muscular body. She was well curved of hip and had, again unlike her western cousins, ample breasts. The main reason he knew she was elvenborn, rather than a type of human, was her ears, he could see their delicate points through her fine hair.
He shook his head, and finally stopped staring at the elven woman. He looked about them, hoping to espy land. There was none in sight, and the ships, still billowing smoke, were beginning to sink into the waters, moving over the horizon. As he watched them he heard her speak.
"Thank you for removing me from the water, Coghlander." She said.
He turned to look at her. She was sitting up, and regarding him with those nearly-white eyes. Then she, too, looked toward the receding ships, and her face fell. She now looked very worried, and very afraid.
"I'm sorry, they moved away too fast." He said, looking rather crestfallen himself. "Unless you can magic us to them?"
She shook her head slowly, and looked at him again. "I cannot." She said, with a sound akin to resignation in her voice. He noticed her mouth did not move along with her words. She was not speaking his language, he realized, but was using magics again. This time to make herself understood by him.
"You must be a powerful magician." Brannir said, looking at her with awe in his gray eyes. "Your abilities are impressive."
She smiled at that. "Were that they were more useful in our plight, however." She said.
Brannir nodded at that. "Aye." He said. "Would that."
The sun was now low in the sky and its bottom edge touched the waters to the west. "It will be dark soon." She observed. "It will grow cold."
The Coghlander nodded again. "Aye." He said simply. Then he said. "My name is Brannir." Deciding that introductions were in order.
She looked at him a moment. "Desella." She said. "I was the navigator on my ship." She nodded toward the north. "The 'Thunder Wing.'"
He nodded at that. "Our vessel was the 'Raging Dragon.'" He said, also nodding to the north. "I would like to thank your folk for trying to help."
She laughed at that, a pretty sound, with an almost musical quality. "We would not have shunned helping you, but we knew not you were there. The Black Thocracy barge obscured you from our sight."
He chuckled as well. "Well, we thank you anyway. We were badly outclassed by that barge." Brannir said.
She nodded. "The 'Raging Dragon' was not large, I saw that much. She is not a warship?"
He looked at her. "She is, but she is meant to operate in groups of similar vessels, formed into squadrons." He answered. "The Dragon was making for Coghland for refit and crew rotation, we were surprised by the barge ourselves."
She tilted her head a little. "We had been seeking for that barge for days. It attacked one of our patrol vessels, several days ago, and sank her, only a handful of crew survived." She said, her eyes hard.
He smiled at her. "Perhaps our crewmates will scuttle her for us, by way of vengeance."
She nodded, and gave her own wan, smile. "Perhaps they will. However, that will avail you and I little." She glowered at the sun, almost beneath the waves for the night.
He crawled to just before her, and sat facing her. Then he took off his shirt, and held it out to her. "Please, put this on." He said. You will grow cold quickly in that slight outfit you are wearing."
She took the shirt, and put it over herself. "Thank you again. It is most generous of you." The shirt hung hugely on her, but would help keep her warm as the air chilled with the darkening of the sky.
Two hours later, they had spoken little, and both were cold. It was barely full night, and the moon had just risen. The light it gave was sufficient for seeing vaguely.
She was shivering, and he was near to it, despite his acclimatization to cooler weather, especially the bitter cold of Coghland's winters.
She looked at him. "Come, sit by me." She said softly. "We may warm one another somewhat."
He moved near to her and sat beside her. She put one of her long, slender arms around his waist and he did the same. His hand resting on her hip. She said. "You are warm, Brannir. Your folk must be very hot-blooded." She smiled at him.
He laughed at that. "There are those that say we are." He said. "Though I do not feel warm."
She leaned into him a bit. "I think, maybe, we should sleep." She said. "The cold is not enough to hurt us greatly, I believe."
He nodded. He did not think it was either, but it would be plenty cold enough to make them miserable. She scooted down to even out her weight on the raft as she laid down, and he laid beside her.
She pushed up against him and muttered to herself. A warmth covered them, not much, but enough to feel. "I am still amazed at your powers, Desella." Brannir said..
She smiled in the darkness. "I am but a mere apprentice of the arts, Brannir." She said.
His eyes widened. "Then I imagine a master is amazing indeed." He said.
Her enigmatic smile remained in place and she did not answer. After a few minutes, she was sleeping, though not well. He saw care still etched on her pretty, angular face. They were, truly in dire straights. Out of sight of land, with their own ships gone and engaged with an enemy vessel. Even if their comrades were victorious, there was little assurance they would turn about and come back for them. Their absence could well be ascribed to the fight, and not to falling overboard. As the night wore on, finally, Brannir fell into a fitful sleep, as well.
When morning arrived, the sun peering over the eastern horizon and casting low shadows across the waters, Brannir awoke. The Desella was sitting, .her knees drawn up to her chin and was looking out over the water northward. He looked at her and he said. "You seek for them with your mind?" He had heard many, many tales of magicians and sorcerers and thought them all to have the same abilities. Many could reputedly seek people out with but a thought, and even spy upon them.
She shook her head. "I do not know the magics of seeking men's minds." She said, looked at him. "You know little of magic. Is this so?" She asked.
He nodded. "I admit that, Miss, I know almost nothing on it, except that I have heard in tales." He replied
She inhaled deeply. "Unlike some tales say, it is not capable of just anything to anyone at any time." She said, peered into his eyes. "Every power is a separately learned formula, or skill, if you will." She smiled sourly. "I never learned mind magics."
The raft had loosened its bindings in the night, flexing over the waves as they bobbed in the water. He busied himself tightening them again, and using some more cloth he had still remaining to tie a couple of new lashes where larger gaps could be found in the planking. She watched him impassively.
"I grow thirsty." She said plainly. She looked at him. "If our shipmates do not come back to us, we will not last long, perhaps only two days."
He nodded. "Aye. Without water, we may well die that quickly." He said, hen he added. "If we're very lucky."
Her eyes showed sadness. "You would measure your luck in lack of suffering?" She asked.
Brannir said. "Aye Miss, I would." He glowered at the cold water. "Death by starvation of exposure would be more painful, by far, than by dehydration, though it will not be pleasant either."
She nodded to him. "Agreed." She said. "But let us not yet despair, for we are well enough and it has been but a single night."
He chuckled, saying. "Aye, Miss, this is true." He looked at her. "And I have had many a shipmate not nearly so kind to my eyes."
Her smile was beautiful, radiating from her in a aura. "Well-spoken words for, as your people call you, a 'salty dog of the sea.'" She said.
He laughed happily at those words. "Do they call me that?" He looked into the distance, toward the north, toward their ships, and coincidentally, toward both their homelands. "I'll learn them a thing or three about calling me names." He murmured good-humoredly.
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LADIES IN NUDE
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