The Damned: Part 1~ Innocence

Chapter 7

ATLANTIC OCEAN JULY 1677

A few years passed and Flying Dutchman had fully settled into her new job as the ferryman.

Britannia helped whenever she could but she had her hands full with matters in Britain.

France was being troublesome again and England needed all the help it could get.

Britannia spent hours in London speaking with members of Parliament on Naval Strategy.

Flying Dutchman couldn't imagine the patience involved. Politics was no place for the hot headed.

She knew that she would lose her stack if she had to take part in that.

Her thoughts turned back to reality when her senses picked up people in the water. Dead people.

She grimaced.

Her job wasn't one for the faint-hearted. Who could deal with seeing fresh bodies upon the sea and the occasional, sinking wreck?

Flying Dutchman sometimes did wish she could do more to save lives but that wasn't her job.

"She was to ferry the dead to the next world until the veil became too thick to travel through." As Britannia had told her the day she'd been commissioned into the Ancient's service.

Flying Dutchman closed her eyes, recalling that particular memory.

It was just after sunrise in the Locker. Flying Dutchman had been resting at her dock while Britannia went out during the night.

The old galleon sailed back in, triumphantly holding a pair of cod in her jaws.

"Nice catch!" Flying Dutchman called to her.

"Thanks." Britannia replied. "Took me forever. They just kept on swimming just out of my reach."

"Sometimes fish are too smart for their own good." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia nodded her agreement.

"Here is yours." She said, setting the larger of the two down in front of her.

Flying Dutchman eyed the fish curiously. "Are you trying to get me fat?" She asked. "You always give me the bigger of the catch."

Britannia laughed. "Hardly, I just want you well fed." She said.

"I'm a quarter your size." Flying Dutchman said. "I don't need nearly as much as you do."

She nudged the fish back to her mentor.

"If you insist." Britannia shrugged and exchanged the two catches.

The two ate their breakfast in silence.

"How are those ribs healing up?" Britannia asked.

"They're still sore but I think they're alright." Flying Dutchman answered.

Britannia leaned over, touching her bow to her apprentice's side, feeling the injury.

"Well they seem to be healing well." She said. "But I think I might be able to speed up that process somewhat."

Flying Dutchman looked up. "Oh how?" She asked.

"I could channel the energy of my powers directly into the injury and use simple chemistry to help it heal faster." Britannia replied.

"Why couldn't you have done that earlier?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"My powers were not designed for this purpose. Focusing them to do such a task requires a lot of energy. I must be careful not to exceed my limit." Britannia replied.