The air around him felt thick, and Shi’chen gave the blanket over him an annoyed shove off. He was feeling the rocking of the ship more so in his bunk at the center of the ship, and combined with the overly warm and malodorous air from the crew all being in the berth area, he was starting to feel nauseous again. Picking his way gingerly through the swaying hammocks by the light of the few lanterns hung nearby, he moved over to the stairs and up onto the deck.
The cool night air hit his face as a welcome relief, and he took a deep breath. The salty, slimy smell of the water was still not something he was used to. He hoped that when he returned to Er’hadin –if,he corrected himself bitterly – he would not have to get on another ship again for a long, long time.
Only a few crew members moved about on deck, keeping the ship on course in the darkness. The sky above him was almost pitch black, each star a tiny but clear pinprick of light. He moved over to one of the crates nearby, sitting down on it to look up at them. He wondered if A’bbni was doing the same thing, and he felt a stab of homesickness in his stomach. He wished that he could sense if his brother was in trouble, but he couldn’t. All he could do was hope that they would be reunited in Csereth. And then perhaps one day they would get to go home. He had no idea if that would happen. Really though, he didn’t care. His Father was dead, his cousin was after their heads. What sort of life would be left for them if they returned to the imperial city?
He tugged lightly at the bandage that had been wrapped around his left forearm since the day the Emperor had arrested them. It came loose in his fingers, and he unwound it carefully. The spot where Hi’jan had cut him had healed, better than he might have expected, with only a thin, silver scar barely gleaming under the light from the moon as proof of their fight. He smiled softly. He would have to show A’bbni when he saw him. His brother would be excited, and that would make this whole wait worth it.
He shivered as the breeze picked up again. Without the sun, it was much colder on the water, and nothing broke the wind’s path as it gusted over the railing, ruffling his hair and causing his skin to prickle. Shi’chen hated being cold; he was much more at home in the warmth of the central lands of Hanenea’a.
Something moved at the corner of his vision, and he quickly turned, ready to defend himself, but his eyes caught blond hair, and the figure’s hands came up in defense. “Sorry,” Lai said, giving him a sheepish smile.
Shi’chen relaxed a little, settling back down on the box. “It’s all right. I thought you were Jaa’jen.”
“Thanks,” Lai said with a good-natured roll of his eyes that made Shi’chen chuckle as the half-elf settled on a nearby crate.
“Thank you again for helping me today,” Shi’chen said softly. “Where did you learn to fight?”
Lai shrugged. “All over,” he said, in a tone that made Shi’chen figure he was not going to tell him much more. “How about you? You said no military.”
Lai’s green eyes met Shi’chen’s, and he flushed, ducking his head and flattening his ears. “Uh…”
Lai gave him a small grin. “It’s all right. Keep your secrets, we all have them.”
Shi’chen doubted that any of Lai’s secrets were even slightly similar to his own, but he was not about to keep beleaguering the point. “Why are you out here?”
Lai raised one shoulder. “Just felt like it.”
And then they lapsed into silence again, the only sound the snap and creak of the sails and the continuous muted roar of the water around them. The wind ruffled Lai’s hair, pulling a few of the blond strands out of his ponytail as the half-elf closed his eyes and tipped his face upward.
Shi’chen tried to keep his teeth from chattering, but he knew he was doing a terrible job of it, his arms wrapping tightly around his torso. Lai opened his eyes and glanced over at him, then frowned and grabbed a piece of canvas off a nearby pile of boxes, handing it to him. “Here. New sailors never seem to have clothing warm enough.”
Shi’chen gratefully wrapped the canvas around himself, pulling it over his head and ears like a hood. If he made it to the end of this journey without frostbitten ear tips, it would be a miracle. “Thanks. I don’t understand why anyone likes the cold.”
Lai laughed at that, nodding in agreement. “I don’t like it either.”
Shi’chen smiled, curling his hands inside the canvas. “Most of Hanenea’a is very warm.”
“I’ll have to spend more time in it then,” Lai said, leaning back on his hands. “I’ve barely been off ship in goblin territory.”
“Why not?” Shi’chen asked curiously.
Lai shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess…” His green eyes turned thoughtfully upward toward the starry sky. “I already get treated like shit by elves and humans for being a half-breed. I don’t really need goblins doing it, too.”
Shi’chen frowned. “I don’t think many goblins would do that. If anything, you’d interest them greatly, as most of us have never seen a human before.”
“Well, you still haven’t,” Lai said with a grin. “I’m just some filthy,” he said a word in a language that Shi’chen did not know, “that isn’t elf or human.”
“I don’t know what you just called yourself, but it’s not true,” Shi’chen replied firmly. “You’ve treated me better than anyone else on this ship, including other goblins.”
“No reason to treat anyone like shit,” Lai said. “When others do it, you either do it back or be nice to everyone.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you treated others like they treated you.”
Lai shrugged, shifting to tuck his legs underneath him. “It’s not going to change how they feel about me.”
Shi’chen supposed he had a point. He readjusted the canvas around him. “How long have you been a sailor?”
“Most of my life,” Lai said, brushing a bit of dirt off his pants. “Since my mother died.”
