Small granules like sand or salt grinded under my shoes as I crossed the wooden floor. I had been exploring my 'quarters' as Captain Talaedra had called it. It wasn't large or fancy in any way, in fact it was around the same size as my old studio apartment minus the kitchen and bathroom. Despite this, there were subtle differences that made it seem more attractive than my apartment studio. Covering almost the entire left wall was a single bed, its legs only inches in height, making the top of the bed reach around knee-height; its frames were made of wood, with small but intricate carvings along it. I couldn't make out all the markings; some were simple drawings of clouds, waves, bones or coins, and others were symbols that I could only assume were letters of a language I wasn't familiar with. They looked similar to Arabic letters, with its signature swirls and circles, yet the letters were all a sort of square shape like Chinese characters. The beds accessories were a plain brown sheet and pillow, with a white mattress cover. It looked hard and simple, but I was used to that. On the right of the bed was a short, wooden side table that had a small bowl of fruits on top of it, and two drawers at the bottom, containing basic necessities such as a toothbrush and a toothpaste with more letters I couldn't recognise. These drawers had been held shut by a flat wooden stick that was placed diagonally through the handle, holding the drawer closed against the frame. Above the side table was a circle window that reminded me of a submarine window. Through that I could see the clouds passing by slowly like the foam of the sea under a sailboat. Against the right wall of the room was a sink in the corner, and closer to the door was a full body mirror that appeared to be leaning against the wall, until I noticed it was screwed onto both the wall and floor. Everything was, even the bed.

I walked over the mirror and assessed myself, my eyes unfocused. I hadn't had a moment to think or feel for some time. Memories came flooding back to me, of Gran Shelly's lifeless body, of Rafa laying bleeding in the van, the explosion, shooting and being shot at by Kael's men- I had killed people then. I looked down at my hands, the same hands that had pressed that trigger so many times. They were covered in dirt and dried blood. I wasn't sure if it was my blood or not, but a dull pain radiated from them. When I gave myself the chance to think about it, I was sore everywhere. Every part of my body throbbed with a dull but every present pain. I pulled up the sleeves, then the legs of my pants, then my shirt, assessing each limb before covering it back up. Minor bruises and grazes; I was lucky. If I ignored my hands, I didn't look much different than usual. My hair was quite a mess, and my clothes had small holes and worn areas, but overall, I was surprised to be in such good shape.

I crossed over to the sink that was against the wall and turned it on, momentarily sceptical of the cloudy water, but decided to ignore it and wash my hands. Almost instantly I pulled my hands back, pressing them tightly under my arms and holding back a scream. After recovering from the burning pain, I decided to dip my tongue into the running water. "Salt water" I grumbled to myself. Realising this might be my only option, I bit my tongue and washed the blood off my hands. By the time I had blinked the tears of pain away, I could see deep grazes and forming blisters all over my inner hand. After a moment of puzzlement, I realised it must have been rope burn from my escape from Kael's auction house.

After freshening myself up the best I could with salt water and no change of clothes, I made my way along the hallway outside my quarters. It was a long narrow stretch with doors lined up on each side. At the end was a staircase that led to the deck, which I climbed, the sand and salt crunching under my shoes. The sun was less harsh now as it set, glowing a warm orange from behind the clouds. So many crazy things had happened these last few days that I couldn't bring myself to allow the question of how this ship was flying to occupy my every thought. I leaned against the railing of the ship, scratched and chipped, and looked out over the sea of clouds. Far below, a bird cawed loudly. If I looked out long enough, I could see the rippling water of the ocean through the gaps in the clouds. It was peaceful. Somehow, despite all that had happened, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a long time. Maybe that was because of all that had happened. No rent was due. Gran Shelly couldn't get sicker. And somehow, up here, I felt untouchable. I knew it was only a matter of time before we'd be found, or my desire to get the locket leads to my death. I felt the locket in that hung heavily around my neck by the chain, tucked into my jumper. I was content accepting this as the calm before the storm.

"It never gets old does it?" a voice said from behind me. I had heard them approaching but waited in hopes they would ignore me. The voice was unfamiliar, somehow rough and smooth at the same time, like a voice that was worn from use or lack thereof. I turned my head to the right as the unfamiliar figure leaned against the railing next to me. He was tall, easily a head higher than me, and a similarly thin build. His face seemed distantly familiar: olive skin, hazel eyes and thin delicate features. His nose and lips were small and perked up, his face long and narrow, leading to a pointed chin. His expression was one of complete contentment, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. I couldn't help but stare for a moment at the oddness of his appearance, however. His hair was short and curly, both black and bright yellow hairs mixed together in a neat mess. He wore black pants and boots, and his upper body was covered by three visible layers of shirts. The inside layer was a plain black shirt, on top was a leather black suit-like shirt with a curled collar and long sleeves, and on the outside was a vest-cut black leather shirt, adorned with gold buttons and belts. The outer shirt was white on the inside, which was visible by the folded collar. Wearing the black jumper Rafa had lent me, I had felt content, even warm earlier in the day. Now I looked at this man, seemingly layering up for chilly night in Tasmania.

"I wouldn't know" I said, responding to the strange man's comment. "Are the nights up here that bad?" I asked. The man turned to look at me, his inner eyebrows raised in question. Pointing at his shirts with my head I clarified, "you've got more layers than an onion". The man scoffed quietly, turning back the sunset.

"I come from Viashidell." He said, as if that was supposed to clarify something.

"European?" I asked, mentally going through every European city I knew of. The man chuckled lightly, then reached out his hand and I shook it. "Kota."

"Ibryn", he responded, his eyes lingering on my hand as we let go. "Captain Talaedra wants you present in our meeting tonight, you've brought a lot of new information with you." He stated. I nodded, understanding. After a pause he added, "have you treated that?".

"Does a surprise saltwater treatment count?" I asked, cringing at the memory.

Ibryn scoffed quietly, responding "I will take you to Lennon to get it treated. All our drinking water is kept it barrels in the cellar."

☠

It didn't take long for us to find Lennon, the pink haired 'healer'. I learned there were four entrances that lead to the four different sections below deck. One contained the crewmembers and guest quarters, one lead to the cellar, the other to the 'workspaces' as Ibryn called it, and the other he stated was out of bounds. The workspace section had to have been the largest. Just like the quarters section it contained a long wooden hallway lined with rooms on each side. However, these rooms were much bigger; the distance between each door much further. The third room on the left was where we met Lennon. The room was not big, but it was around five times the size of my quarters.

"So, are you a nurse, a doctor...?" I let my sentence hang as Lennon used a cotton swab to place cream onto my hand, the tingling sensation soothing it.

"Healer." She answered.

Seeing her clothes, which were equally as unusual as Ibryn's, I asked, "Are you from Viashidell too?"

"Ecethis." She responded. I held back a sigh. I had once thought I was good at geography. I knew that wasn't a country name, and it sure wasn't a suburb in Australia. My eyes wandered over clothes and hair, both as strange as the other. Her hair was tropical pink, falling in soft, effortless waves and pooling slightly on the mat we sat on. Her eyes were bright pink, her skin pale, aside from her cheeks, which were pink and freckled along her nose bridge and cheeks. She wore what looked like an 1800s billowy white shirt that narrowed down to a piece of white fabric at the back and sides that continued until it reached below her knees. The rest of her outfit consisted of a short-sleeved, cropped brown leather jacket, an excessive number of belts, gold buttons and necklaces, a white frilly collar, brown leather gloves, leather black pants, high black boots and large gold earrings that appeared to be a dragon circling a sail. Beside her on the mat, she had placed her large classic pirate hat, which was black, gold rimmed and was decorated with red and white feathers.

I hadn't expected much from the young woman when we first entered her work room. Besides looking a bit eccentric, much like Ibryn; I couldn't recognise any of the resources, there was no machinery, and most of all, no chairs. She wordlessly pointed at a colourful straw mat that was decorated with patterns and unfamiliar letters, and Ibryn, her and I all sat in its middle. Yet now I was mildly surprised to see the blisters on my hand deflating and the pain easing considerably. Perhaps I had judged her too fast, I realised.

"Ouch!" I yelped as she poked my wound with the cotton swab. "What was that for?" I held back the urge to pull back my hand.

"Your wounds are on your hand, not my face." She replied, her voice flat. Ibryn gave another quiet and amused scoff, while I grumbled under my breath that I was only observing a new person. A short while passed before a knock was heard at the door. "Come in." Lennon called quietly, no matter the volume, her voice was soft like a whisper yet had an underlying raspiness.

The door opened to reveal a young man. He had short straight black hair, sky blue eyes and light skin. His features were thin and sharp: his eyebrows, eyes, nose, jaw, which made the roundness of his ears stand out. These subtle differences I hadn't noticed in people previously would have thrown me off, yet over that I was once again more surprised by his outfit. He wore a black and sky blue short sleeved top that appeared to be nylon, black pants, boots and gloves. The strange part was what he wore on top of that: he wore goggles on his head that appeared to be a mixture of aviation goggles and plain safety goggles; he also wore different pouches, pockets and straps attached to his waist and chest. Yet above all this, the strangest thing was his left arm, made entirely of advanced robotics up to the shoulder. His short-sleeved top was cut singlet length on that arm, leaving it completely uncovered. I couldn't pull my eyes away from the intricacies of the fingers and joints. A moment later, he was followed by a German Shepherd, which, much like the man's arm, was covered in intricate mechanics and wore goggles on his head, clearly custom made for his small eyes. There was so much metal, and robotics attached to the dog's body that the entire top of his torso was not visible, along with most of his forelegs- save his left paw and bottom half of his right foreleg, and a collar to match.

"Talaos, Dune" Ibryn nodded. It took me a moment to match the name Talaos with the black-haired thief who had been among the original three I had met. He looked completely different now, I dare say he looked more normal before with his fancy masquerade outfit. I hadn't even noticed his robotic arm at the time, covered in a sleeve and glove.

"Ibryn, Lennon," Talaos responded. His face more less dead pan, his eyes slitted in clear suspicion, "Kota". The dog, 'Dune' growled quietly, clearly sensing his master's concern. I nodded in greeting, trying not to pay their suspicious much attention. "Captain Talaedra wants to start the meeting now."

"Mm" Lennon responded, beginning to pack or materials away.

"Talaos, will you escort Kota for me. I need to change into something more appropriate." Ibryn stated as he stood up from where he sat on Lennon's mat. Talaos responded with a long blink, his eyes staying closed for a moment too long. As Lennon packed away her materials and Ibryn headed for his quarters, the two of us, plus the dog, made our way out of Lennon's work room and toward the room at the direct end of the hallway. As we walked, I couldn't help but glance occasionally at the two, walking half-robot half-meat beside me. The way they moved so seamlessly together was somewhat concerning. It seemed like both Talaos and the dog controlled the robotic aspects of themselves just by intention. That was an impressive yet dangerous level of control over technology. The shoulder of both Talaos and the dog had lines scratched into them, almost like tallies, but more purposeful, and both the same.

"What language is that?" I asked, breaking the silence. Talaos glanced at me to see what I was looking at. When he noticed my gaze on his shoulder he responded.

"Most people don't notice those are letters, they're too concentrated on the arm." He stated in that same flat, suspicious tone.

"Details are important," I shrugged, "besides, the whole thing was made with enough attention to detail for me to think they can't just be accidental or decorative scratches." For a moment I saw the deadpan mask of suspicion he held so tightly over his face relax. It wasn't a smile, just a flicker of reassessment- his jaw untensed slightly, his eyes unnarrowed.

He responded with a single slow nod, "details can keep you alive."

"Or get you killed" I countered, thinking about whether I would have been better off if I hadn't noticed him and his crewmates in the crowd outside Kael's auction house. Could I have moved on?

"It's Kinarþi" Talaos stated, tapping the markings on his robot shoulder with his flesh finger. "It's basically your peoples Ogham letters." I recalled Ogham letters being an old Celtic alphabet, but before I could enquire about what 'your people' meant, we reached the end of the hallway, and Talaos opened the door, revealing the meeting room.

I scanned the room quickly, noticing around a dozen faces. Some I had seen before, and others I hadn't. "Captain Talaedra" Talaos greeted, and a murmur of voices echoed, "Talaos", and less "Kota". I wondered for a moment what they had against words like 'hello' and 'evening' but became distracted as Ibryn entered behind us. The three of us found a seat, with Ibryn on my right and Talaos on my left. The dog lay comfortably on the chair beside Talaos.

Captain Talaedra cleared her throat. "Welcome, everyone. As some of you might know, this meeting marks the furthest anyone in the history of the eight dimensions has ever gotten to the legendary treasure of the Leviathans Hoard."

-Interdimensional Pirates
-April Bluebird/@BlueWhiskers1
-12/Oct/2025
-Chapter 10: Details
-2772 words
-547 👁‍🗨, 60 🌟, 50 💭.