The World After

Chapter three: Sinners and Stones

Chapter three: Sinners and Stones

The ship was dead quiet. Doc's words hung ominously in the air. They had known this was coming, the frail body wrapped in the sail was a sinner. He was guilty of horrid crimes against humanity, it was just unlucky he happened to survive the ship. still at the edge of the crowd, Mieli tried to walk towards the body, but Max's scrawny arm shot out and stopped her. She turned towards him, angry at his interference.

"Don't, Mil." Max's face was grim, a tear threatened to leak out of one of his hazel eyes.

Max was short for his age, a tiny 5'1", shorter than Mieli by two inches. His baby face was freckled and he didn't yet possess the awkward peach fuzz of adolescence. Curly copper hair sat, eternally messy on his head. His thin body shook. He didn't like what was about to happen anymore than she did. The difference between them was Max was a coward. She swatted down his arm. Most of the crew missed this exchange, except the captain, who watched Mieli with an indecipherable gaze. As she made her way forward, she heard Delia, in her normal booming voice, questioning Donovan.

"What was his crime? Was it pardonable? Is he mentally ill? Was he pushed? Who'd he kill? Was it just?" Delia rattled off questions.

The doctor rolled his heavily lined eyes.

"Well, if you look here," he pointed to the subjects wrist, "you can see a magical embellem---what?! It's not there?!" He slapped his hands to his face in faux horror. "Oh, wait! I'm a medical doctor! Not a witch." He finished, grimacing at Delia.

"Sometimes, you wouldn't know." Delia muttered, she huffed and rolled her orange eyes at him.

"Delia, Darling, do bugg--"

"Excuse me." Mieli interjected, before they got too carried away.

They both stopped and stared at her. Mieli felt the eyes of the entire crew on her. Strengthening her resolve, she spoke again.

"Is there a way we can spare him?" She asked. Both Delia and the Doc's eyes softened, something bordering on pity in them.

"He's a sinner, Mil." Delia said quietly. "He could be dangerous, he could hurt the crew. There was a REASON he was on that boat."

Atticus, the man who oversaw the ships trades and finances stepped forward. He was incredibly well-groomed, a necessity for foster trade relationships, he claimed. His shoulder length black hair was tied with his usual red ribbon.

He had a suspicious smile on his face,

"Ah, but we brought him back because his arm has 'innocent' carved into. Or did you forget that in your haste to condemn this man?" He smirked.

Mieli peered down at the body, true enough, carved into the arm, a large raised welt with jagged cuts in the middle spelled out the word 'Innocent' in the pale flesh of his arm.

Delia pursed her lips, "sinking ships are full of innocents who wish to be saved." She said, using an old metaphor.

Mieli grasped at the straw, sensing she could save him. "How about we keep him, and once he's healed, he can tell us his story himself?" And I can write it down, she thought.

"And if he's Evil, Kaitz can put him down like a dog." BC muttered.

Kaitz narrowed his eyes and made a show of adjusting the scimitar he had strapped to his waist.

"It's fine with me." The captain's voice, though quiet, rang throughout the boat. Mouths went agape. The captain was not known for his mercy.

"Doc, BC, take him to the infirmary, shackle him, just to be safe."

"Yessir!"

"Posthaste, Cap!"

BC lifted the frail man in the sail easily and hefted him over one shoulder.

"Don't kill him, please!"

"I could care less doc."

"How rude." Their arguing voices slowly dissipated as they vanished down the stairs.

As they left, the rest of the crew gradually left, reassuming their respective positions. Eventually, only Mieli, Delia and the Captain were left on the deck.

"Whelp! I'm back to work. See you later, Mieli." A carefree smile light the captain's face. "Love." He kissed Delia on the cheek before sweeping across the deck towards the wheel.

Delia's face however, was dark, and Mieli thought she heard her mutter, "Patrick, what are you plotting?" Before she walked away, coat tails trailing behind her in the slight breeze.