The Butterfly Crown

Butterfly Crown - Keeva

You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche

Keeva

I have gotten used to the stagger of the ship. After days of sea sickness, the mellow motion started to feel calming. I was swaying around like a babe in the womb, yet I had lost all sense of what it was like to have a mother.

I have spent little time on the sea, but I could have befriended the idea of staying here for a little longer, if I wouldn't spend my days in a dusty dark pantry on the tween deck and the only conversations I wouldn't have with a tense young pirate, who turned out to be responsible for the sustenance on board and had decided to bottle me up inside here.

Once a day he came took the food for his fellow comrades and left me a bottle of stale water. Food I was able to acquire myself, I slept on a straw sack that the young pirate so charmingly had described as a donkey's breakfast. After I had demanded some sunlight he had told my deadlight, my small thick window, was enough.

With the word deadlight I felt more comfortable with, it had a poetic melodramatic touch to it that I highly supported. The only light I truly got was, the one, who broke in the waves of the sea. It was lenient and admiral blue. It was a reminder on how far away we were from Melar.

Rusk was the only nutrition I allowed myself. The cautiousness of my pirate had me alarmed, I couldn't catch attention from the others, though I tried every day to convince my pirate to take me to the promenade deck, so I at least once could stride over the wobbly wooden floor with my eyes fixed on the horizon. I didn't think that my freedom had led to another days of captivity, although this time my restrained freedom had been my own decision, this was my own mistake and paying for it felt oddly good.

.

After a week of lonesomeness the ship hadn't stopped once. However after exactly seven sunsets the crew had decided to drop the anchor. From my deadlight I was able to see the sand of a nearby island. I could hear muffled voices and footsteps. What were they doing?

Are we robbing a poor island or what?

A spell later the sounds disappeared and calm had been restored. I was sitting on my straw sack, still wearing the same clothes I had on when I left Melar. I was glad that I didn't own a mirror, because I was sure of the fact that I looked like a mess. My hair hadn't been brushed and the color with which gave it it's reddish touch had started to fade. I blamed the humidity, or maybe that the color had come from an old mignonette tree.

I heard subtle footsteps near the pantry and jolted up. My eyes were riveted on the door, any second the beech-wooded door handle would be pushed down. I imagined all the scenarios that could happen. A drunken pirate returning earlier while his friends were still exploiting the island or an islander who wanted a snack after successfully beating ever single pirate on this ship in battle. Paranoia wasn't a good look on me. Being worrisome had never been one of my characteristics, Edan had been the one who had taken care over both of us.

But when the door opened two familiar eyes, resembling polished aquamarine, twinkled into my direction. The pirate whom I never had dared to ask his name had appeared. His clothes were mismatched, he was wearing a oxide red shirt, dandelion yellow pants and a black taffeta vest, which I assumed he had stolen from a very wealthy man. Over all his clothing was over sized and dirty.

"Why have we set anchor?", my voice was serene, yet I noticed the vibrato that made my words wobbly.

"You can speak of purest luck tonight. We are staying in Sligeanach, everyone has left the ship already.", he informed me, a wide wild grin on his face.