An Aura of Hope: A RWBY Fan Fiction

Chapter Six

We arrived at the docks with barely five minutes to spare. I gave my family one more embrace, and sprinted for the boat. I had the trunk on top of my backpack and had my two suitcases in my hands. I watched them pull up the anchor.

"Wait!" I called as they began lifting the loading ramp. "I'm coming with you!" I'm pretty sure they heard me, because the loading ramp slowly came back down. "Thank you," I said to the sailors.

They grunted in response.

Apparently this was going to be a very boring boat ride.

A man who I assumed to be the skipper approached me from the upper deck. His white suit looked better suited for a wealthy CEO than a sailor. This look was coupled with brown, wavy hair; a serious expression; and a classic skippers' cap. "James Louis, I presume?" he asked when he was close enough to speak comfortably.

"Yes, sir." I extended a hand to him, which he just stared at blankly. I slowly put my hand back down.

"I am Captain Rogers. You will answer to me while you are on my ship. You will eat and sleep with the deckhands, and you will act the part, too. This means, if you were too dumb to understand, that you will take part in the various jobs and chores that they do. Remember that I did not have to agree to take you along." He swiftly turned around and walked back to the top deck.

Oh, joy.

I took my things around the deck looking for someone to give me directions to the bunking space. Finally, after my twenty-third attempt, one sailor directed me there. My bunk was easy to spot, and honestly I didn't expect anything more. Mine was the gray, two inch mattress laying on the floor in the corner. I thanked the man for the help, but he didn't respond.

I put my pillow and a blanket on the mattress and left everything else packed up off to the side of it.

I went back up to the main deck and watched the harbor shrink out in the distance.

"Louis!" came a frighteningly close voice from behind me. I probably didn't give off a first impression of manliness, since I about fell off the ship from being startled.

"Y-yes?" I asked once I regained my composure. I am sad to admit that I was again caught off guard when the voice came from a woman. She seemed about my age if not younger. She had chin length black hair and freckles all over her pale complexion.

"I'm Private Smith," she said in a mild southern drawl, "and the captain has asked that I help you get around the ship." She actually extended her hand, which I gladly shook.

"Thank you, Private Smith."

"Call me Valerie."

"Valerie. Got it." I smiled. "So where to first?"

"I was thinking the mess hall. That's where you get food, by the way." She said that last part as if she were talking to a child.

"I know what a mess hall is," I said.

"Oh. Sorry. So many greenhorns we get don't even know that much."

"Oh, okay. I thought you were just talking down to me."

"No, no. Well here we are. Breakfast starts at 6 and ends at 7 sharp. Lunch is 11:30-12:30, and dinner is 7-8. Got it?"

"Got it. Where do I sit?"

"With me, over there." She pointed at the table in the far corner. "We're the youngest. That's why. Speaking of the matter, why are you even with us? You aren't a part of the staff."

"Actually, I'm just catching a ride to Vale. I'm starting at Beacon this semester."

"No way! Me too! I've been working the dust ships for years to be able to afford it. I've wanted to go since I was a little girl. They only accepted me because the captain wrote me a recommendation letter. Honestly, I couldn't be more glad to get out of this dump."

"Doesn't seem like a very fun place to hang out."

"It's not. But I guess it's better than at home where I'd have to deal with my family. I'm the youngest, and everyone from my grandparent's generation down lives on the same four acres of land. I'm an only child, but my cousins are basically my siblings so I don't really care. Got any family, Louis?"

"Call me James. And yes. I'm an only child, and I live with my Grammy, I mean, grandma, and my mother. My father was killed thirteen years ago by a Death Stalker. All I have left of him is this boomerang. It's Viartannie Ijs. It's what he fought with. What's your weapon?"

"This revolver I made when I was six. It shoots .45 caliber shots and also dust crystals. My dad taught me how to shoot, so I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Sweet! What's its name?"

"Giratori Zaklady."

"Intense."

"Yeah. Well, moving on to chores..." I followed her up to the top deck. Maybe this ride wouldn't be so bad after all.