Follow The Raven

"You could stop staring at any time, now," I said, not even looking up from the book on Norse mythology I had sprawled on my lap. Under the captain's orders, I am to be bedridden until my health shows any signs of improvement. Also under the captain's orders, Remy is to keep me company, which is proving to be more of a burden than a favor. The boy won't stop staring at me, with those big blue eyes. He's not talking, he's not moving; he's just sitting in that chair backwards, his eyes just over the back of the chair, staring at me. I doubt he's even blinking. Am I really that interesting? Or do I have something on my face that is so scary he can't even say it?

"You're alive," he stated, shocking me with his sudden speech. I was beginning to think Damian actually went through with his threat to rip out his voice box.

"You speak," I replied, getting tired of people always being shocked at me being alive. I almost wish I could turn faster, maybe then they would stop staring at me for hours just to say 'you're alive.' Yes, I kind of know I'm alive. You don't have to remind me all the time.

"You're ill," he stated. Yes. Thank you. I had no idea. I just nodded, this isn't the time to blow up at someone, and even if it is, that someone probably shouldn't be the cabin boy that accidentally got involved.

"Do you do anything?" I asked exasperated, ten minutes later, when silence fell upon the room and the kid resumed his staring.

"I clean cabins," he said, a hint of pride at the end of it.

"Okay, that's a start," I said, motioning for him to keep going.

"I draw," he said bashfully.

"That's nice. I tried to draw, it should be illegal for me to even go near the idea," I said, remembering that very pathetic looking sheep my second grade teacher made us do. I don't remember the purpose of making seven year olds draw sheep, but I do remember that mine looked nothing close to a sheep...much less a four-legged animal. Basically, I don't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't a sheep, and it was that lovely little notice telling me that I was not born to do anything artsy. Note taken.

"I'm not very good," he said modestly, starting to blush.

"Trust me, compared to me, you're Michelangelo," I stated, making him blush more. We just sat there, another ten minutes going by.

"Do you play Chess?" I asked randomly, remembering a chess set in the captain's office. He shook his head.

"Would you like to learn?" I asked, hoping that he would say yes so I have an excuse to move somewhere else. He can't go anywhere on his own and I can't be left alone, so a trip to the cabin's office is a good excuse to move around and the other two can't say anything if those two factors aren't violated. Ha! I'm good.

"Alright, help me up and we'll stealthily avoid everybody and go to the captain's office," I said formulating a plan after he nodded yes. Not much of a talker is he? Well, judging by the thick accent, its kind of obvious that he's still learning English.

"What are you two doing here?" Damian hissed storming into the office. Thanks for breaking the kid's concentration Damian, now he'll spend another twenty minutes thinking of a move.

"Playing chess," I replied, watching Remy fidget trying to pick a move. It was rather complicated teaching him the workings of chess, but he seemed to get it, until we sat down for a game. As a beginner, I can understand why he takes so long trying to find a move that won't harm him, trying to go through all the possible scenarios in his mind. But after ten hours it should come a little easier right?

"Didn't we specifically tell you to stay in bed?" Damian hissed, pacing around the room in a mad rant, as Remy finally moved his bishop, allowing me to claim his king with my queen.

"Checkmate," I said, pushing his knight over.

"Are you even listening?" Damian asked annoyed, finally stopping his pacing.

"Of course not, she's dominating in Chess," the captain said, walking in from his rounds and sitting behind his desk.

"I didn't know you played Chess, Miss Lara," the captain commented, looking over some charts and maps.

"Don't encourage her, captain, she'll never take orders," Damian seethed, flopping down in a chair. Remy helped me set the board up again, but stepped back when it was ready.

"You don't want to play anymore?" I asked, kind of disappointed. Sure he takes forever in making a move, but he's still fun to play Chess with. He doesn't talk much for some reason. His mastery of English isn't bad, he's capable of holding a decent conversation, but for some reason he seems to be restricted. In our hours of Chess, I learned that he died when he was fourteen, of the Scarlet Fever in the 1600s.

"Dankeschon," Remy said, going to sit at the side.

"She's not a deckhand, and it wasn't an order, it was a suggestion. Anyway, who wants to be stuck in a cabin for days on end?" The captain asked, answering Damian.

"Thank you captain," I said, starting to play solitaire Chess.

"Allow me to join you," the captain offered some time after I finished my solo game.

"Please do," I answered, sitting back down from my browsing of his bookshelves. No one had left the room for hours. How did people live like this? Going hours upon hours of basically nothingness. For days, years, lifetimes! And on top of that, how can they do it now in death?

"Are we making good time, Captain?" I asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Yes we are, surprising I must say. This time of year is usually the worst," Captain Dover replied, taking one of my pawns.

"Why is that?" I continued, Damian grunting at my question.

"The North Sea is most wicked in fall, the sea serpents are on the hunt for food before the cold currents come in. They create the sailors' devastation upon a ship, but the sea itself, with its surges, creates the most damage for the actual ship," Captain Dover explained.

"I have a question," I stated, moving my knight to claim the captain's bishop as Remy came in with food for all of us.

"You always have a question," Damian said, from his spot on the coach. I thought he fell asleep or something, can't he leave me alone with that for five minutes?

"Ask and we will answer to the best of our ability," the captain offered, sitting at the head of his table, the rest of us joining him as Remy set up for dinner.

"Since this is the land of the dead, why do things still grow? Why are there seasons? What makes things 'live' in the underworld?" I asked.

"Well, you certainly know how to ask them, don't you," the captain said, chuckling. What?!?! I like to know what's going on and learn new things. What's wrong with that?

"Why do you think I avoid having her ask questions," Damian muttered through his bread. Pig. Annoying pig. Mean annoying pig. Okay, that's enough.

"Well, to be quiet honest, its one of those things that can't really be answered. At least not by a humble sea captain; one of them philosophers might do better, but they never give straight answers anyways," the captain started.

"What I can say though, is that things grow in this world not out of life but from the natural power that runs through this earth. I'm sure that even at this stage, you've started to feel vibes that this world gives off," he said, taking another drink of wine. How they get wine, I don't know either.

"I don't feel anything different," I commented.

"You don't? That's strange. Newly exposed beings to this world, to this system, are usually overwhelmed by the energy this world holds," the captain said pondering.

"It's true, you weren't at all bothered by anything when we met, maybe about the werewolf thing perhaps, but other than that you seemed rather calm. Surprising considering your particular situation," Damian inputted, joining the conversation.

"You mean like energy zones?" I asked, trying to think of what they were talking about.

"Well, if you know what they are, you must feel them," the captain said.

"I've felt them all my life," I said, trying to get as much food into my system without risking throwing it back out later.

"What?" Remy asked, speaking up for the first time.

"How could you have felt them all your life when you were in the land of the living?" Damian scoffed.

"I've been around the dead and the supernatural my entire life, that's how," I answered.

"Wait, what?" Damian asked, obviously not getting it. Is it really that hard to believe.

"Please explain your childhood, my dear, it might clarify a bit for us, because I don't think we're on the same page," the captain asked, also rather confused.

"Alright, well, I was born in this rather disturbed town called Sherwood in Connecticut. I've been an outcast since the day I was born. My only friends were these children that died and gradually met up and stayed together. On my birthday, I got a letter saying that I was in danger and that when the time came I had to follow the raven, and that time did come, I got attacked by these vicious dog things and I ended up here. That's basically it," I said, trying to think if I missed anything. Nope, that about sums it up.

"Wait, so when you were in the land of the living...you could see and communicate with the dead?" Damian asked skeptically.

"Is it really that hard to believe? Everyone I run into is in absolute shock about me, why am I so special?" I asked, really wanting to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

"Lara, no one, in the history of time, has ever been born with the refined ability to see and basically live with the dead. Humans can feel auras if they have a stronger sense, but not actually live with them. And on top of that, no living being has ever crossed the gate," the captain said, awestruck. Am I really that special? Am I really that much of an oddball?

"What are you?" Remy exclaimed after a while, shocking most of us. That's a good question. When you know, tell me okay?