The Colosseum

Sailor's Hymn

Kova

Genevieve, who preferred to go by "Jenna," brought us first aid. The first thing that mattered was extracting the bullet out of Ezra's shoulder. When Jenna asked who shot him, we both went silent, our views of Ten differing, and a simplistic answer not in existence.

After Ezra was taken care of, Jenna determined the gash in my hip needed stitches. Of course, this wasn't the operation room in Ezra's palace, so we didn't have proper tools, but there's "nothing a hook and line can't fix." Using a lighter, Jenna sanitized a hood, threaded fishing line through it, and sewed me up. When she asked how I dealt with the pain so well, I chuckled. "Who should get the credit? Josephine? My mother? Ezra?"

"Ezra? Is that him?" she snapped, glaring at the man who tended to the baby.

"Yep."

"Nobody knows his name, but everyone knows what he looks like," Jenna explained. "Plus, he just exudes kingliness. Everybody hates him because he's the top dog, so if you want him alive when we reached the islands, you're going to have to change up his appearance a bit."

"Nothing a box of hair dye can't fix," I remarked.

After I was patched up, we rationed out food and water for the trip, which would take about 10 days. We determined we'd all have to huddle in the cabin like a pack of sardines for warmth and shelter from the elements, which was the best worst news I've ever gotten. "Now that everything's squared away, can you give me a few minutes? I just need to collect my thoughts now that I know Ajax is somewhere out there. This is the first news I've heard about my brother in what feels like forever."

"Of course," I agreed, watching her recede into the cabin where the baby sleeps, leaving Ezra and I on deck.

"Who'd have thought it would end like this?" Ezra sighs, waltzing on the deck with unbalanced sea legs to stand next to me. His left arm is in a manmade sling, cut from extra sail material. The world we knew is far behind us now, but we stare ahead like it's right in front of us.

"What makes you think it ended?" I question.

"Good point," he agrees. "For all I know, you could go back to the north, claim the throne, and become a queen of your own. Everyone loves a good rags-to-riches story."

Laughing, I imagine wearing a crown, sitting in a fancy chair, and playing politics with other nations. "That's not my thing," I reject. "I work better with my hands than my words."

"Well, Ten's only got half an army that's willing to work for him. The rest of the soldiers might be after you to force your hand to take on the responsibility," he wagers.

"Maybe," I contemplate. "Or, Ten is going to come after me, and the other soldiers will find me just to keep me alive. Who knows? Maybe that leader will challenge Ten for the throne and rule the north, himself."

"All I know is that it shouldn't be my problem anymore, whatever happens to that place," Ezra grunts. "But I feel like it is."

"Ten might turn out to be a good ruler," I hopefully offer. "He's all about making deals, after all. The only issue is that he'll run to the ends of the earth to find you and kill you."

Snorting, Ezra asks, "Oh, is that all?"

"Just about," I tease, sauntering to the edge of the ship and leaning on its ledge, staring down at the wake left behind by the cog. "I was thinking about what to do when we get to the islands."

"I'm all ears," he offers, low voice nearly lost in the wind.

"How about we lay low for a bit; recover, make some money to get around. Whatever we need to do is dependent on whatever Ten decides to do, but until then, we should just take some downtime," I suggest, looking to Ezra for his opinion.

Comprehensively, he nods. "Whatever you want to do, I'll go along."

"I really appreciate it, Ezra. I honestly don't know what I'd have done without you, besides die," I try to tease, though the weight of the truth brings the mood drastically down.

"I can say the same," he replies. "And I know we don't see Ten the same way, but I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

The sun starts to set, matching the color of Ezra's hair with the sky painted in shades of red. Red that paints the blood of Ezra's ex-nation, that matches the shade of his hair, that colors the petals of his favorite flower, that splotch his neck in some sort of impassioned reaction. "I'll always be here for you, too."

We let those be the last words that hang in the air, the sound of waves slapping against the boat and the ruffling of sails in the wind. About an hour later, Genevieve reemerges from the cabin, hair coursing behind her like she's standing right in front of a fan. "I was thinking about the beginning of your story. It's pretty inspiring. Y'know, in a 'we lost, but spiritually won...almost,' kind of way."

"Wow, you really are Ajax's sister," Ezra flatly states.

"Don't push it," Jenna snaps, reaching for the steering of the sails. "Anyways, there's an old eastern sailor myth that if you sing a song, the wind stays in the sails to listen. That way, we go faster." She adjusts the sails then heads to the bow. "I'm going to belt out a few lines, just to warn you...I'm excited to get home."

Jenna starts to sing, her voice surprisingly angelic. As her pipes sweeten the ship, Ezra and I look out at the horizon. And while nothing else seems to go right, his hand covers mine on the ship's ledge, and for a moment it feels like it does.

In a desert full of nothing,

In a nation to be shunned,

Come a fighter of the people, and the king of the sun.

Through bloodshed and tears,

Through betrayal and lies,

A numbered boy fears for the girl he vies.

Sailing to the shore with war at our tail,

It'll take more than a few drinks for me to prevail.

O life is rough but the seas are rougher,

Death calls the name of my poor sweet brother.

Against the wind and with the tide,

A king on deck with a face to hide.

Salt on my face and fish guts on my hand,

I'm sailing home to the motherland.

A story of love to be sung for ages,

Is nowhere near done so keep turning the pages.

Now let down the sails,

Row for a klick.

If you two down there kiss,

I'm gonna be sick!