Exile (Short MCSM Fanfic)

Chapter 8: Times of Despair

Jesse shivered, tugging her jacket more tightly around herself. Checking the compass once more to make sure they were still heading in the right direction, before shoving both her hands into the hoodie's pockets.

She was alone at that moment, standing above deck in the faint morning sun. Her good eye bright and alert, her diamond sword resting within her reach.

But Jesse's heart felt heavy in her chest, a feeling of anxiety pricking at the back of her mind. An uneasiness in her stomach, her figure drenched in restlessness.

She knew exactly what all these feelings were; regret.

It's been ten days. Ten days since the night of the drowned attack, ten days since Jesse fell asleep while manning the sail.

Jesse hadn't said anything, not to Lukas or Petra. She almost forgot about it completely that evening, ice cold and exhausted from the fight with the drowned.

But even when the thought came to mind again, Jesse didn't have the courage to talk to her friends, to tell them that she screwed up. Silently praying in the back of her head that it didn't matter, and that they weren't severely off course.

Days were passing. More than what were meant to pass. Lukas had brushed it off, saying the wind and the sea just probably wasn't in their favour. That they just had to stick to it, and that everything would turn out.

Jesse was starting to grow more and more uncertain.

She had feeling her mistake impacted them more heavily than she thought. What if they endlessly sailed, no longer on the path to the island? What if they died out there, in the middle of the ocean? What if she possibly cost them their only chance at a happy ending?

Jesse sighed, sinking down onto the deck, and taking a bite of her apple. Her appetite dwindling slightly as the stress gnawed away at her.

On the bright side of things, Lukas was getting really good at working things like the sail with one hand. Either his arm was starting to get better, or he was getting used to tolerating the pain. Jesse rarely saw him flinch or grit his teeth as he worked.

She was also adapting really well to her sight. Working with the handicap has helped Jesse a ton. She was starting to really how to judge distance with her hands in basic tasks. Walking was no longer a challenge either, the steps below deck being one of the only things Jesse still struggled with a bit.

Not to mention that she had learned how to properly wield her sword again. She was going to need to start practising most of her techniques from scratch again, but that was a small price to pay.

But other than that, things weren't looking great.

Petra for one, wasn't getting any better. If anything, the short amount of time out in the rain that night had made her even worse.

She spent most of the days sleeping below deck, rarely leaving the bed when she was awake – Something the active warrior rarely did.

Petra of course wasn't in a state to be manning the sail, meaning Jesse and Lukas were switching shifts all around the clock. Whoever wasn't working with the sail would take the time to catch up on some sleep and keep an eye on Petra.

Their food supply was starting to shrink to a dangerous level. Even their fresh water was starting to run out, to a point where Lukas decided it would be safer to ration it out.

He stayed very confident, saying that it would only be a matter of days before they arrived at their destination.

Jesse sighed, placing her apple down and getting up to check the compass. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was truly all her fault...