Revolutions

100 - Legido

You lock eyes with Lander, both frozen in place as he—she?—is left holding the bandages that were being applied all around their torso. No words pass between you two, staring and left standing stupefied; the only sounds resonating within this secret place are of the creaking ship and commotion of the busy workers walking above deck. Your mind scrambles, trying to figure out what you should do. Do you alert somebody? Do you run away, never to speak of this again? You do neither of those options, instead gaping at the sight in this hidden compartment within the ship by the kitchen.

Lander clutches the bandages to their bosom, then reaches for the oversized hat. Their long hair, save for the shaved sides of their head, cascades over their shoulders, but other than that, you can't discern any features that would've tipped you off to Lander's true identity. Or, perhaps, this is the true identity; you can't determine.

"I-I can explain," Lander stammers. You're uncomfortable, feeling like you're imposing. Lander has been a tremendous ally during your time on this ship, and you're compelled to back away, to leave Lander be and pretend you never saw anything. Although, in the back of your mind, you know you'll always know, and this can never be unseen.

You start to apologize for your intrusiveness, but your efforts are waved away. "No," Lander sighs, "it's okay. I suppose someone was going to find out sooner or later. I just hoped my secret would've lasted a bit longer than this. But, if someone was going to discover it, I'm relieved it's you."

Lander secures the bandages around their chest with a clip, then gradually begins putting on their loose, white shirt. "My name is actually Landera," they say, relaxing their shoulders and sounding somewhat relieved, as if the burden they've been carrying has been lifted a bit.

"Everything I've said is true," Landera says, thrusting their other arm through the shirt sleeve. You make sure the secret door behind you is shut and secured, then sit crosslegged on the floor next to them. "I am from Luzigar, and my father is a shipbuilder there. Well, was. He was receiving contracts from the wealthy nobility. Except one day, he fell ill. It started out small, an uncontrollable, sporadic coughing fit, something he could work through. But then it got worse. He became too weak, too exhausted, to work long enough to meet demand. Doctors didn't know what was the cause, or how to cure it. But he remained undeterred, and kept working."

Landera's gaze falls to the floor, stopping their progress of getting dressed. Spots of red are already starting to show through the bandages near their ribs. You look around for a needle and thread, and tell them to lift up their shirt so you can stitch them back together. At first, Landera looks reluctant to allow this, and you can tell they would rather tough it out, much like their father with the shipyard work. Upon further reflection, however, they change their mind, and gingerly expose the wounded area.

Next to Landera is a spool of thread, but a needle is absent. Being some kind of storage area for the kitchen, you find the bones of fish and other disposed food items lying about. Taking one of the fish bones, you recall the procedure your aita taught you, turning the bone into a needle. Doing this for the first time on your own, your craftsmanship is lacking, to put it nicely, but it'll have to do. The gash is still bleeding, though not as profusely, and you're able to start sewing the wound together, albeit while progressing methodically.

"He couldn't keep up with demand, and then business began slowing down," Landera continues while you work. "It became difficult to pay the workers at the shipyard, so my father was offered a loan from a local merchant. I warned him not to do it—it seemed too obvious that he was making a deal with someone with bad intentions. Sure enough, that turned out to be a costly mistake."

Landera sighs, grimacing occasionally as you work the makeshift needle through their side. Or is the grimace from the story they're telling? It's difficult to discern which. "The man demanded repayment seemingly right away, and at an exorbitant rate. Of course, my father couldn't repay. Just as I had warned him. The stress only compounded the illness, and soon, he was too sick to work. To pay off the loan, the merchant seized the business. My father is able to do the odd job here and there around town, but it's hardly enough to sustain himself. And..."