The Prince and the Serpent

Giving Chase

Boruto sat at the bow of the boat. His eyes were trained forward as the vessel glided its way through the darkness. To an outside observer, he was calm, if a little tense in the shoulders. That was the only indication of the storm that was rolling in his mind. He hated sitting still. He preferred to act because action distracted from his emotions. Unfortunately, for the moment, he had done all he could. With nothing to distract him, his emotions raged and warred each other in his heart and mind. The movement of the fishing boat through the dark provided a little comfort. The motion was proof that he was acting even if it was slow.

The little white snake lay curled contentedly in his lap. Its head was buried in the palm of Boruto's hand and leaned happily into his thumb as he absent-mindedly stroked its little eye ridge. He was grateful for its company. He had lost count of the times he had listened to Mitsuki's message. He wasn't looking for meaning or anything different anymore. He just wanted to hear Mitsuki's voice.

He could feel Sarada's eyes on the back of his head but he ignored her. She had been watching him for hours and he deeply wished that she would find something else to occupy her time. He knew she was worried about him and part of him appreciated her concern but there was nothing she could do to help him. He knew he wouldn't be okay until he had Mitsuki back.

The old captain of the boat was staring at him too but at least he was trying to be less obvious. He could feel the second set of eyes boring into his back occasionally and it sent shivers of irritation through his body each time. The old man hadn't said much as Sarada had negotiated his services and purchased the supplies she insisted they needed. Boruto had watched and admitted internally that she was right but he would never say that to her face. Now that they were under way, he could only guess at why the old man was so interested in him. It was almost like he...

The pieces came together. Crap, the old captain had recognized him. In his determination to chase after Mitsuki, Boruto had forgotten all about hiding his face. Sarada was right again, he guessed. He wasn't exactly "low-profile". Oh well, the damage was done and there was nothing he could do about it now. He couldn't ask the old geezer to stay quiet or threaten him or even bribe him into silence. If anything, that would only make him more eager to gossip. At least, as of right now, he had no proof of what he was seeing. All Boruto could do was keep quiet about why he was so far away from the capitol and essentially alone.

Slowly, the deep black sky started to lighten to a steel grey, then to a milky white. The now pure mist swirled lazily around them, releasing its grasp as they neared the edge of the black swamp. This part of the Swamps looked vastly different than the wetlands they had crossed on the way to Dorchas. The trees were much fewer in number and they were completely black and missing bark in places. Grey moss hung like tendrils from the remaining branches but looked thin and sickly as they reached for the water below. The water was still black but it had an acid green film on the surface that varied in intensity and thickness.

Sticks and sturdy water plants broke the surface randomly and the air was heavy with humidity and the smell of salt mixed with decay. The mist was thinner and rolled in lethargic waves a few hundred feet away. The sun was able to penetrate weakly to shine on the surface of the water, glitter on wet leaves and cast long shadows from the skeleton trees.

The fishing boat cut a path through the slime as they went. There was no sound except for the sloshing of the water against the boat and the steady thrum of its engine. Boruto jumped when the relative silence was disturbed by a hiss and a low growl. The boat had ventured too close to a large alligator that had been sunning itself on a rotten log. Boruto stared in awe. He had never seen one before. The ancient-looking reptile bore its teeth menacingly and hissed its displeasure again before abandoning the log and splashing into the swamp.