On The Wings Of An Albatross

The Kara Ejderha

Four Years Ago

Sanem slumped, defeated, besides where Deren and Guliz were flaying the spines out of fish. They'd left L'île d'argent mere days ago - the port at which their most recent reprobate acquisitions had been offloaded - passing near the coastline, the nets had been thrown out.

Sanem had spent the morning fruitlessly with other matters. "I can't find my knife."

"Oh no, dear, such a shame," Deren replied, her voice as dry as desert sand. "Have you, perhaps, tried the last place you saw it?"

"Obviously," Sanem scrunched her nose, mostly in indignation, partially from the smell. Seagulls had started to circle, but hadn't yet braved swooping down, Guliz' glares seemed to be guarding well enough. "It's vanished, I haven't seen it in at least two days."

"Well, it can't exactly have gone far." Darren gestured, showcasing the seclusion of the boat amongst the water around them.

Unless it's toppled overboard? Sanem tried to push the thought from her mind, it could have been, she acknowledged, accidentally kicked all the way from her nightstand to the very edge of the ship, but the prospect seemed unlikely. She hoped it was unlikely.

"Why are you so attached to that knife anyway?" Guliz inquired, another tiny spine arching over the taffrail behind them as she threw it away. The seagulls immediately plunged in a ruffle of white and grey feathers to fetch it from the waves. "That old thing's been needing a good sight more than running over a whetstone for years, and it's as bland as anything, really."

Sanem shrugged. "It's symbolic, I guess; it's the first weapon I got after joining you guys."

"It's hardly a weapon," Deren countered.

"It's small, sure, but it's good enough at stabbing, you just have to be able to get close. I was practising, in L'île d'argent."

"You were practising stabbing people?" Deren raised an eyebrow.

"No," Sanem rolled her eyes, grinning all the same. "Sneaking up on them. Seeing how close I could get before they noticed. And either they didn't at all, or they just decided my intentions and demeanour were completely guiltless, for some reason. They all pretty much ignored that I was even there." Sanem still wasn't sure if that was going to bother her or not, it could have its merits. But the impression of harmlessness was unravelling what little bravado had grown inside her during fighting practice.

"That reason would be your face, dear," Deren said, snapping Sanem's attention back. "You have a naturally innocent charm, use it."

Sanem beamed a little inside at the comment, she had managed to snag an ornate pocket watch. The poor man really should have been paying more attention - but then, maybe an honest town occupied by metalworkers and jewellers had been easy prey. They tolerated pirates, barely; subsidised commerce was an awfully tempting thing if you were willing to bend the law just a little, but the locals had been raised in a world where trust was not inimical.

Sanem had her knife on her then, not that she had any intention of using it; keeping it on her belt was more habit than anything else, and equally a habit to place both blades beside her as she slept.

But the dagger had disappeared by dusk of next evening - though in truth expectation had given her no reason to believe it wouldn't be there, so it had taken that long to even check. She couldn't fault herself for dropping it while on the island, she'd spent all of that day on the ship.

"Maybe Can took it," Guliz suggested, absentminded. Her eyes seemed to flash a heartbeat later, the briefest of expressions, before she turned slowly, deliberately, to Deren who's hands had also wavered in their task.