Chapter Text
Stars white like paint were splattered across the watercolour sky and they stared lovingly at the sea below. Moonglade danced over inky waves as they crashed and interlocked hands with each other in an intricate performance conducted by the salty wind and moon. In harmony they worked together to create a spectacular and harmonious performance to appease the stars as they stared ;however, despite their efforts it was disrupted. The dance torn by the steel hull of a ship gliding like scissors through paper across the waters surface.
Yet despite the disruption to its dance the waters were not angry and nor was the moon and wind. Instead they accepted the disruption, unknowing it would be their undoing. Behind the initial ship many more followed. Each creating deep cuts through the skin of the water as they went. Thick steam flowed from the chimneys of the ships; strangling the winds and blocking the saddened stars' view.
Aboard the ships, soldiers scurried through steel corridors preparing for the battle yet to come. Some were training, some resting, others patrolling seeking out stowaways. One alone stood out of place, wandering through the stomach of the ship, too afraid to remove his mask or even speak to the others. Though even if he wasn’t fearful to speak he wouldn't as each time he parted his lips they felt like they’d split like the sea. And if it wasn’t for that, he still wouldn’t, for he did not belong.
Unlike the other men on the ship, he did not belong. Unlike them he wasn’t destined to have companionship, to joke while stuffing food down his face and sleep without fear. He was destined for greatness, the spurned scarred prince, returning a hero after capturing the avatar. To regain his honor, his throne, his birthright. To learn respect after much suffering.
Then and only then, he’d live a long life in luxury and sleep soundly upon silk and satin sheets; without fear of being swallowed by the sea or struck down. But he would still never truly be as happy and prideful as the men on the ship. For he, unlike them, was destined to forever live in solitude.
The young prince continued to scurry through the ship's halls, twitching in pain, eyes wide behind the mask. He attempted to stand straight and stride as he usually did to no avail. Scarring scabs stuck to his skin and stretched across his body, threatening to gush with thick red at any moment. The boy had not missed the feeling of flesh melting and fusing to fraying gauze; but, alas here he was once more.
It was too much, hadn’t he suffered enough? Or had he not learned enough respect yet?
Suddenly, a sergeant walked past barking at the boy to go fetch something he’d left on the deck. Despite his agony he nodded, staring at the sergeant through the black mesh of his helmet. With each step he took nausea rose in his throat, green clouds fell in front of his already hazy vision and the floor warped ahead of him. Eventually after what felt like forever he made it to the deck.
Unable to hold himself up anymore he flung himself to the railing. He grasped and pushed against the smooth steel using it as a crutch. The salty sea air was now sharp and icy with night causing him to violently shiver. Hopeless, the boy allowed himself a glimpse of the night. It wasn’t as dark as usual, but it wasn’t bright either. In the water he could see the golden glimmer of lanterns swirling with the sparkle of moonlight. Though he couldn’t quite tell if they were sparing or dancing as one. He then looked up at the dim stars searching to read the destiny they spelt, but he couldn’t see much with that stupid helmet.
In the distance above the crashing of waves and creaking of metal he could hear the cheering and shouts of soldiers as they trained. He began to wonder if this was truly what he wanted for the rest of his life. To listen from afar. But that made his chest hurt more so instead he stepped away returning to his task.
Eventually after what felt like forever he found the thing and began to drag himself back to the corridor. The sergeant stood leaning against the steel, a foul expression upon his face. “What took you so long?” The man growled “Hm? Walking like a baby doe. Or perhaps a rat with the way you’re twitching" The boy glared at the man towering about a foot above him and choked out a lie as polite as he could. “Sorry Sir, I’m not quite yet used to being on the ship” he bowed his head and clenched his fists, face burning. The man smirked at the teen and crossed his arms. “So you’re a new recruit, eh?” he chuckled looking down at the boy “How old are you boy?”
“Sixteen”
“Agni you’re young, I still remember when I joined the navy. Think I was about a year older than you. Took me weeks to find my way around the ship. Good luck, Doe.”
And with that the sergeant pushed off the wall and walked away. The boy watched the sergeant round the corner, checking to see if anyone was approaching. The second he declared the coast clear he collapsed , colliding with the cold grey wall with a thud. He groaned, gripping his side, unable to bear the waves of stabbing pain much longer. Biting his lip he choked the vomit rising in his throat and the cries he wished to vent.
Agni what he would give to be back on the Wani with Uncle, drinking tea and waiting impatiently in his room as chef cooked or to sleep in his bed once more. Not that he’d ever admit it to their faces; but, he really did love his Uncle and crew even if they didn’t seem to like him that much. Well Uncle loved him, of course he did, for he gave up everything for him. The crew on the other hand… They left him without even a second thought. Then again the Princes own fault for being oh so cruel.