The Jewel of Orlegon

Prologue

The night was calm on the ship's deck. The air was still warm on this summer evening, and the sailors had gone down to the hold, leaving only one of them to stand watch while the others enjoyed a well-deserved rest. Leaning against the railing stood a solitary man, gazing out at the undulating ocean under the pale gaze of the moon. Standing before the vast sea, he remained so still that some might have mistaken him for a statue. With his eyes closed, he allowed himself to be filled with the serenity of the night, slowly inhaling the air carrying salty sea spray and iodine scents, listening to the gentle lapping of the water against the hull. When he had ascended from the hold, the watchman had given him a suspicious glance before shrugging and returning to his task. He wasn't in a position to question someone like this passenger.

A sound of footsteps behind him broke the state of meditation in which the man had immersed himself. He immediately recognized the clinking of beads attached to his young companion's belt. The young man's gait was more hesitant than usual, although he was a child of the sea, and the deck of a ship was as sure for him as the treetops were for a bird. He had probably finally succumbed to the crew's numerous invitations to join in their games and drinks. After all, it was their last night before disembarking, and he couldn't blame the young man for wanting to please them.

The latter leaned beside his elder and took a deep breath of sea air before also immersing himself in the contemplation of the watery mirror.

"You should spend some time with the crew" the young man declared in a slightly too loud voice "They feel like you've been avoiding them since the beginning of the journey."

The young man fell silent for a few seconds, hoping for a response from his interlocutor, then finally continued.

"We'll be in sight of the island tonight." he continued, trying to conceal the effects of alcohol on his behavior, "But the captain will anchor until sunrise; trying to navigate the channel without visibility would be suicide. We'll be settled before noon, and we can start whenever you're ready."

The elder glanced at his companion. He could sense in his voice a barely concealed impatience, and he nostalgically thought back to the time when he too possessed that ardor and invincibility that youth brought, especially for people like them. But that time had long passed, and with a touch of bitterness, he recalled the past that had destroyed that beautiful innocence.

"I didn't know you liked the ocean," the young man continued, "given how diligently you've done everything to shorten our journey, I was beginning to wonder if you loathed sailing."

"Do you really think I would have volunteered to come here if that were the case?" he eventually asked in a calm voice, each sound carrying a natural authority.

"Indeed." the other one nodded while sitting on the railing he had climbed onto, his feet swaying gently in the void. "But I think that if you hadn't volunteered, no one would have taken your place. With all due respect, I think we'll come back empty-handed."

The man sighed; his companion was still a hothead, but he had the potential to become more if he took the time to forge his own ideas rather than listen to those of others.

"And you, why did you volunteer to accompany me?" he asked the young man. "The other volunteers all preferred more conventional destinations. Why not you?"

A slight laugh escaped the younger man's throat. He stood up, balanced on the railing, and began to walk easily along the narrow wooden ledge. The old man couldn't help but wonder how he managed not to fall when he had struggled walking straight to him a few seconds before.

"For this," he said, sweeping his arm across the ocean, "I wouldn't miss a chance to sail for anything in the world. I believe there's more seawater than blood running through my veins. And staying away from the ocean is a greater punishment for me than any torture."

"In that case, why did you choose to live on land rather than the waves?"

The man knew perfectly well, but he never hesitated to test his companions' loyalty when they were the least likely to think about the consequences of their words. The young man performed a somersault that landed him easily on the wooden deck. He then brushed the leather bracelet encircling his left wrist and left with these words to his elder, who hadn't moved.

"It seems the Goddess had other plans for her humble servant than to see him roam the waves and end his life as an old sea dog."

With that, the young man returned to the staircase that led to the cabins they had been allocated. His companion remained for a moment, contemplating the nocturnal show of the ocean, then he pulled a piece of paper from his tunic and read it for the hundredth time at least since he had received it. Finally, he decided to hold the paper to the flame of one of the lanterns on the deck. The fragile material ignited in an instant, and soon the wind scattered the ashes. The man pulled his hood over his bald head and remembered that he hadn't answered his young accomplice's question.

He had volunteeredfor this mission because he had high hopes of not returning empty-handed.