The Nauta

The Tribe That Betrayed Land

Cikagn yanks open his eyelids, directly into the glare of an intense white light.

Without thinking, he grabs a small and sharp metallic object whose edge reflects the bright light with his right hand. Rolling, he tumbles off the platform he is on, his analytical subconscious tells him that the surface is soft. He feels various objects leaving his body as he crouches on the hard and gritty ground, snatching another of the sharp objects with his left hand. Ropes recoils around him, as he hears a sharp beep and the sound of a mechanical alarm. He observes his surroundings for a moment, finding an opening behind him, he dives into a narrow space, his back arched to the extent and his legs crouched as low as his head, barely able to remain in combat position in the low, dark space.

His mind is in turmoil, as he recalls the past events before he fainted. He has lost his entire unit, and his body is currently in terrible condition. There is something in his nose, as he pulls out a long and snotty string out of his nostrils, its end a white plastic object. Paper tape wraps around his wrists. Yanking it away, he sees that he is bleeding from needles inserted into his veins, probably drugs used by his captors. He hears a shuffle of activity as he realises that he had not been alone when he woke up, but surrounded by guards that only began to react as his sudden stamina had allowed him to take only some 3 seconds to get into the position he is in now. Surveying his surroundings, he sees that the room he is currently in was white, but worn yellow by time and with its paint peeling off. The ground is gritty with rocks but otherwise rubbery and painted dark green. A faded yellow door is in front of him, some 5 metres away.

He hears the metallic sound of swords being drawn, as he counted 15 soldiers in total from the sound of their movements. He was about to fly out in a flurry of blood before another sound stopped him.

Their swords are buzzing with electricity.

Although electricity has been discovered by various civilisations throughout the world, this is only through lightning, and ancient documents describing their terror of the natural force. Apart from the Falcon Eye, it has not been known for any other authority to be able to harness any form of electrical energy nor use it for any purposes. However, from the rhythmic clicks emitting from their blades, along with the metallic taste in the air, Cikagn can tell that merely touching the weapon will prove a painful disadvantage for him in his weakened condition. The small daggers in his hands are made fully of metal, meaning that it would conduct electricity on contact with the blades. He wraps the dagger handles with the paper tapes previously stuck around his wrists. Taking a deep breath and confused at his immediate environment, he tenses his muscles, taking a moment to analyse his current capabilities.

"O' fallen spirit! We wish no harm! We are but a humble tribe abiding by the sea."

Cikagn postpones his leap, saying in a calm and authoritative voice, he says "Where am I?"

"You are in our finest medical ward, with all the best healing equipment we can provide."

Cikagn looks down at his hands, he is holding 2 polished scalpels. He suddenly recognises from the glare of light shining on him that he was on an operation table as he realises the surface he is crouched is the underside of a bed.

Slightly embarrassed yet totally confused, he asks "Where did you acquire such equipment?"

"We were guided by your black and serene shape centuries ago to this godly boon that has given us much providence in the sea. We are eternally grateful and we apologise if anything has made you uncomfortable. We shall make amends as to our loyalty to you."

As he gradually perceives his bearings, Cikagn finds that he is in an old and ill-maintained medical ward, its technology and equipment partially compatible with the medical wards in the Falcon bases all over the world, in which 5 rooms with different layouts than the one he is currently in is mandatorily maintained in every operation stronghold of the Falcon Eye.

He rises warily from under the bed, hands raised above his shoulders. He is wearing some sort of rough material that is loose around his body, reaching to his legs. He sees that his Talon suit is hanging on a bedside table next to him, as he surveys the various medical support that he had yanked out of his body in his sudden burst of stamina and alarm, in which they are flowing with liquids. A startled doctor, or someone who seems to be one as he is not carrying any weapons, sits on the ground next to the door, obviously having been surprised enough to lose her balance. The doctor is wearing white robes, clean though worn yellow by time.

Cikagn sits back on the bed, as the adrenaline rushes out of him. Like a snap, what feeble strength his consciousness could provide breaks. Blood runs down his nose as Cikagn fades back into unconsciousness once again.

When he awakes for the second time, he is not on the bed anymore, but on a hammock. On a battered metal table next to him are his Talon equipment, as well as some stones, and a glass of red, transparent water. Cikagn flexes his muscles, testing their capabilities. He finds them to be intact, with a few scars indicating his crash. Sliding off the hammock, he examines the red liquid, his nostrils identifying it as aspirin, mixed with some kind of sweet smelling fruit that is probably red by nature. He leaves it on the table as he notices that he is in a well furnished and time-worn room, its wallpapers yellowish and the furniture expelling a musty smell. A circular window across from him is well wiped yet green and fuzzy on the outside surface.

He looks out of the window.

Into the endless expanse of the swirling blue sea.