The Word Cloud

Literature comes from the upheaval in a writer's soul. If that upheaval isn't there, it should come from the works of another writer that is handy and easy to adapt.

Happy New Year!

 

A recent blog about the first impressions we make on people and how people react to our appearance as inspired me to consider the matter further. The author of the blog, a self described member of the “younger generation” commented and lamented how her choices in clothing and footwear brought a reaction from a member of the “older generation”. I wondered if the old boy’s comments may have been misunderstood humour, an insult, or just a genuine question.

I took time to examine my own appearance and I pondered on how people react to me. I considered my size. I am 6’3” and about 18 stones (with the inevitable holiday padding). This circumstance often brings reactions but I am probably so used to them that I filter them out.

I further considered the points of my appearance which I have direct control over. The things I make a choice about. My hair style, my clothes, shoes, and watch are all a matter of choice. I pondered if I was consciously or otherwise making a statement about who I am. I do not yet have an answer to that. 

After reading further comments from other readers of the blog, I once again considered the appearance of my social circle. I found some interesting (to me) things. It seems that there is a reverse correlation between wealth and nice clothes. The few guys I know who are very well off seem to shop at the skip behind the local Oxfam shop.  Yet some of our labourers look like they spend their entire take home pay on labels and hair products.

The blogger further challenged us to seek out contact with someone from another peer group.  For me, the Cloud performs this perfectly. My social and work circles would never overlap with many on here and I have come to respect and accept (most, …well… maybe just some….) of the views of the Cloudies here.

 

Among my own social circles, Parks a Forman of a scaffolding company and like me, a former Legionnaire, has over the past year, taken to growing dreadlocks. He is keenly aware that scaffolding careers end before mortgage payments and he has set up a small market stall selling clothing and jewellery from India. His missus noticed that his usual crew-cut was frightening off potential customers so he decided to change his whole appearance as a marketing tool. He still drinks his eight pints of scrumpy and rips arms off people who take the piss out of him for his hair but he sells three times more on his stall… He looks like someone who never found his way back from the first Glasto.

 

I thought back to my time in uniform and the reactions I received from civilians. It brought back a few laughs. One of those was from a pompous university professor a long time ago….when I was a member of that “younger generation”.

As a young sergeant way back in the late ‘70’s I was selected to attend Auburn University, a large mainstream institute of higher learning. It seemed the powers that be deemed I was worthy of higher education and away I went.

While there, I was required to wear my uniform to classes. It was sort of a recruiting type thing. I was exposed to the liberal free thinking world of academia and they in turn were exposed to a very young, very well trained sergeant of airborne infantry.  When Worlds Collide...indeed.

My entrance examinations (CLEP College Level Examination Program) were high enough that I did not have to take many of the fundamental survey courses and I was enrolled in mid level courses. The maths and sciences were a doddle, nothing teaches physics, trigonometry and geometry better than the mortar gunnery, long range rifle marksmanship and combat demolitions courses taught at Ft Bragg and Ft Benning.

The liberal arts courses on the other hand were brutal for me. Philosophy discussions about Nietzsche’s view on happiness and comparative analysis with Plato and Kant….Why would I care what a collection of drugged out mushroom eaters thought about happiness?

But the best was a sociology course, “A Survey of Group Dynamics”…SC211. Professor Dobbs.  Dobbs was a self styled counter culture hero and had used the acclaim of his tenured status to push his views on society and politics rather than attempt to teach the actual syllabus of the course. His eyes sparked with glee when he noted my uniformed presence in his classroom on the first day. I was the physical embodiment of the “establishment” he had made a living out of mocking.

We exchanged veiled insults and as I needed the grade in order to maintain my presence in school, I performed on cue with Attila the Hun style answers to his questions. He asked what my function was in the Army and I replied that I was a recon scout in an Airborne Rifle Regiment. He pressed further and asked what that involved. I dutifully replied that it involved “jumping out of airplanes and killing people”. Debate followed on my ability to ignore the moral implications of that and he made his plans…

 

The next lesson was changed and we were told we would be performing a group exercise. Dobbs explained that we would be divided into four teams of six. The scenario was that we were all survivors from a plane crash and we were given a list of equipment to salvage from the burning wreckage. We were to prioritise the equipment with the task of getting our team off the mountain alive and we were in competition with the other groups for the equipment in burning wreckage. We could trade and negotiate with the other teams and when all of this was completed we would be graded on our performance. Lord of the Flies

 The list included food, a radio, water, medical kit, a rifle and ammunition and several other bits. We all settled down in our groups and made out lists. Dobbs asked each team to have one person present their lists and their rational. He nodded as each team went through their lists and finally asked our team to present our findings.

He smiled with unsuppressed glee as I stood to present our list. He said “Now Sergeant Jefferson will present to us his list …..Sergeant…”

I nodded and said “number 1…. Rifle and ammo… Number 2…” and he cut me off.

“Why am I not surprised that the representative of the military has selected his comfort blanket of a gun first?....perhaps his personal insecurities…. or perhaps a symbol of his fears….or perhaps something more phallic?  ...Sergeant, would you care to explain why you chose the gun as number 1 when no other group has done so?   Sergeant?” he smiled as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaned against his desk and looked at me to reply…

 “Well Sir, “ I said

“Professor” he interrupted

“Yes Sir” I continued…”You explained that our mission..”

“TASK” he interrupted again.

“Yes Sir, Our mission was to get our group off the mountain and that we were in competition with the other groups for the kit salvaged from the burning aircraft…”

“Yes…yes” he nodded impatiently and waved his hand for me to continue….

“Well Sir, if I have the weapon then I have all of the kit that our group has …..plus all of the kit the other groups have when I point the rifle at them….”

 

He stood up, uncrossed his arms and looked at once horrified and shocked.

 

“You would use the gun” he started…

“Rifle, Sir, it’s a rifle” I interrupted with a smile….

“You would use it to take the supplies from the other groups?” he stammered…..

 

“In the parameters of your exercise, yes sir. You  stated the conditions, and the mission was to get my group off the mountain alive….I would use the rifle to accomplish the mission…….My people would come off that mountain alive…” I replied.

“Class dismissed, Sergeant, I would like to see you in my office after please…” he said while smiling and nodding.

“Yes professor Dobbs, straight after class.” I said.

After a brief chat, I got a distinction pass and never attended his class again….he even shook my hand as I left his office..

So sometimes it seems that first impressions are actually pretty accurate. I was exactly what he expected; maybe I played to his expectations a bit. And he was a pretty clever guy underneath his pompous persona.

 

 

What are your top three must haves when you write? They can be food, drink, optimum room temperature, chair adjustment....

Mine are:

1) The Smiths

2) Tea

3) The helpful chatter of Joe

 

Any thoughts or preferences?

As the New Year approached young Lawrence sat in the officer’s mess wondering what he must do to gain renown.

“This is no good” he muttered. “Soon another year will have passed and I still haven’t done anything that will get an epic film made of my life, with soaring music and sweeping desert vistas. I must do something!”

Not much later he heard of a fort three days into the desert, that was besieged. He bought a camel and armed to the teeth he set off across the desert to bring support to the defenders. After two days journey his camel suddenly dropped down dead as a hammer, leaving young Lawrence in a right old pickle. But he was made of stern stuff and after four days walking and somewhat gasping for a drink he made it to the fort. The fort wasn’t besieged after all, these stories do get mixed up. But the garrison thanked him for the thought and gave him a drink and a bed for the night.

He stayed for a while but eventually the boredom of daily looking out over the sweeping sands, with no hordes of enemies bearing down on him so he could be heroic got to him. He determined to return to the capital, where he had set out from, and to seek better adventures. Being a bright lad, as well as ambitious and fearless, he realised he had made something of a logistical error in his transport arrangements. Having asked around he was directed to a grizzled old Sergeant Major who, it was confidently predicted, would advise him well.

Lawrence related his tale. The Sergeant Major pondered for a while, stroking his grizzled old cheek:

“It’s a three day journey across the desert by camel,” he said.

Lawrence opined that it had been judged so by those he had asked for directions when he set out.

“I’ll bet you bought your camel from Al Hamadi’s camel mart,” suggested the Sergeant Major.

Lawrence admitted as much.

“You see, he’s a decent old stick is Al Hamadi, but he just can’t brick a camel properly. And you will only get three days desert travelling from a camel that’s been properly bricked.”

Lawrence gave out that he was confused by this statement and was at a loss as to how a camel might be properly bricked. Or even what bricking entailed.

The Sergeant Major explained, “You take you camel, a male camel, mind, just before the journey and you bring it to the water trough. The trough is low and a tall camel has to bend in order to drink. Now this is where the skill comes in. You must wait until it has just about drunk its fill but still has its face in the trough. You come around behind the animal who, as he is bending to the trough has presented his er, wedding tackle, at the rear. Taking a couple of bricks you bring them smartly together on said apparatus and”;

Here the Sergeant Major did a passing fair impersonation of a camel with crushed bollocks and its face in a trough of water sucking up a further six or seven gallons of water.

“That ensures a good load of water and he’s good to go for three days.

Lawrence pondered for a moment on how much he didn’t yet know about desert adventuring, but had just one further question. He asked,

“Isn’t that rather painful?”

To which the Sergeant Major said, “Only if you get your thumbs caught between the bricks”

And the rest, as they say, is history.

“TALES OF FROZEN NORTH”

- SAVAGE WARRIORS -

'by Jaana [aka Cyane]'

 

 

- Tale 1 -

:Cold and Slaughter:

 

 

In a faraway place, where the winter's iced hills cover the Halls of Frozen City, a new hero was born. Forged into fire of battle, she become one of the most powerful warriors from all time. Member of the Viking Royal kindred, she grown with the blade by her side, fighting in the battlefields arm to arm with her father and brothers.

When a strange entity tries to destroy the balance between Earth and Sky, the Viking kings decided to summon one of their kind, to fight for hope and glory, and to bring peace into their lands.

When the warrior was chosen by their gods, the kings refused to accept that a young maid will carry such a large responsibility by herself, but they also couldn't question the judgement of their divine Gods.

No long after the maid was chosen, the four kings gathered their armies and raised her as general over them. When she received the blessings from her parents she headed to the mountain of the Harden Waterfalls, where she had to meet the son of the second Viking king, Ledan, and join forces against their enemies.

 

Several days have passed until she has reached the edge of the Aran Mountain, the pass which lead them towards the waterfalls. After recognizing the dark woods of Nefareh she took some precautions and made a plan while she rose a camp near the woods, she was feeling the strong pressure in the air, a feeling of cold and slaughter.

- Tomorrow we will continue our course, the only chance to find the others is to cross these woods, so we will need some rest. muttered the girl watching close into her men's eyes.

- But, Jaana, it is dangerous to follow this path. hissed her brother. These are his woods.

- Shua, please have a little faith in me, I believe in all of you, so that's why I know that we all will survive into this war. We are Vikings, the kings of these lands, and we will fight for them, to rule them and to save our balance.

Her men seemed to have more confidence after hearing Jaana's voice, rising an absolute courage into their hearts.

Jaana remembered the story her father used to tell about the little Nefareh, a child which was always ready to give his life for his woods.

“Born into one of the three Barbarian tribes from north, son of Galean and Amara, he has been send into those woods at his tenth birthday to prove that he's worth of taking his father's place one day.

More days passed and the boy didn't returned from his mission, so Galean took five of his best men and followed Nefareh's tracks by crossing the sharp paths of the cold mountain. In their way, the men saw dead orcs and Vikings, murdered in the most fierce methods. Several wounds opened by the edge of the blade were still bleeding, no long to know that they were close to the boy, and will find him soon.

- This is not the work of a Barbarian. My son has gone too far. spoke Galean looking like out of his mind around and hoping to find a survivor.

- We are close, it is wise to have your people to rest for tonight, I have a feeling that soon we will need all our strength to face him. the young Oracle murmured after she has thrown her runes over the dark flames she rose with her breath.

- What you see Renna?

The woman's eyes closed once she heard the howl of the wolves. Her voice enchanted the man's soul while she was singing a cadence, hypnotic, like the dark elegy falling from a child's innocent blood. The northern winds brought her the infernal rages of the ones who fell victims into the boy's hands. Feeling their agony, she separated the runes from the flames and threw them away.

- Who'll go there, will go forever...once you meet them you will not be able to escape from their necromancy. she murmured breathing so fast as her lungs were ready to explode.

- Escape from whom?

- The Muses! These are their woods. she cried laying her head on Galean's shoulder.

- Nefareh will be fine, we just need to have faith, I will save him. the barbarian muttered trying to calm down the woman.

Galean send three of his men to gain some information about the woods and to find his son. Renna fell asleep after Galean covered her with some blankets near the fire he made. He felt the night's presence spreading its dark mantle over the sky and saw the sun hiding its waves beyond the mountain of stars.”

 

 

A strong howl from inside the woods awoke Jaana. The burning desire to know from where came this broken howl, took control over her senses, like she was dragged by an unseen force, a hand which was leading her more and more into the forest's womb.

Not far from the camp, a white dragon flew through the fire's sparkling flames, ascending across the thunders, followed by strong lightning lines, all breaking at the earth through the frozen storm. The dragon's eyes discerned a vague shape, a human, laid over the cold white layer, in the middle of some old-enormous trees, which, by her luck, were protecting her from the storm's deadly rage.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Principles of Life

 

by Jaana [aka Cyane]

"I was across the island,

Walking through waterfalls."

 

"One more dream keep my hand

Guide me into the ocean."

 

"An old memory

Relieved my past.

Guard me into my journey."

 

"I summon the newborn cascades

I see my own future

Flowing through their waves."

 

"One world falls

Into the darkened bottom of the ocean.

Another arose from the crescent auroras

Slowly gave me the knowledge the principles of life."

 

The Pirates of Calabria - The Ark of the Covenant


by Jaana [aka Cyane]

CHAPTER 4

'The Sepulchre of Souls'

 

 

Five Imperial vessels passed the passage between the Lominn Hills, aiming towards the two islands, Zertuga and Nova Artana.

Amillia knew that Lady Glaria will be there with her lost crew, searching for what she sought from the moment her father vanished years ago, the mighty Ark of the Covenant.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

“Yes, its just...I am just a littl' nervous and thankful also, 'cause I know I would be lost without your help” Amillia sighed trying to control her explosive feelings about her strong desire to find the Ark and hold it into her hands. To find her own path among the pirates its her dream.

 

“Don't be silly, when you have a dream, fight for it and you will gain more power than you can imagine. Those were my father's last words before he died. I had fate and I became stronger, for the sake of my people and land. You will find what you seek if you have fate Amillia, trust me.”

 

Amillia looked so impressed into his eyes, he's so smart and yet young she thought. She wanted to know more about him, but how? She never have been so close to a man. She always felt an unpleasant emotion around men.

Amillia  closed her eyes and kissed him, but she moved back fast, red as a crawfish she ran into the captain's cabin and closed the door after her.

 

Serev touched his lips, bewildered of what happened. Mislaid into a strong lust which took control of his senses, Serev closed himself into one of the ship's cells meditating to a way of self-control. His eyes were crimson as the blood of Ares, his long hair covered the red line which covered his body when and let the black Imperial Rubin to fall to the ground.

Serev disobeyed his noble bloodline by releasing his closest treasure, but he wanted to do it for her, he was happy to fight for something which now was more important than his desires. He bowed to Ares, The War God, and welding his hands he closed his eyes and took a big breath before he started to murmur an old incantation in his own tongue “I am sorry father, but I have chose my own path.” his soul begged for his ancestors forgiveness.

 

 

 

 

 

Something strange disturbed Morgan's sleep. His body was all filled with sweat. He felt his head heavy when he got out of bed. When he opened the balcony doors the sun's shining waves covered him, warming his old bones. His eyes looked proud to his beautiful island, Malero Ganza. He jumped out on one of the windows and took a little walk into the jungle. His thoughts flew to Amillia, she reminded him about his sister, same eyes and temper.

 

“Sara, I am sorry for what I've done” he cried alone into his soul.

“I will accept your hatred from up there, she was innocent as you, but she was into my way”

 

Morgan saw his crew repairing the ship from the last fight they had. He wanted to be alone into his cabin so he ordered to everyone to not disturb him.

As all pirates, he had his own library with treasures of all the world, he wanted to discover what was Amillia after, and why she was so desperate to find it. He knew her well enough to see that she wanted it with any price.

 

“What you were after child?” he whispered feeling his own words flowing deep into his mind.

 

He opened one of the windows and took a sit on the gold-wooden chair from his desk . He unfolded a huge map which from its lines and marks was one of the old treasures of Aztecs.

 

“The Lost City, centre of the Valley of the Dead. There is what she was after, the only way to bring them back is to find the Rosetta Stone and read it.” murmured Morgan calm closing his tired eyes.

 

He opened his cabin door and shouted to his men to unfurl all the sails and prepare for a new journey.

 

“Where we aim Captain?” spoke one of the pirates, second in command.

 

“To Zertuga mate” Morgan scowled between his teeth.

 

“Aye Captain” growled the freebooter happy to hear it.

 

Once the sails were up, Morgan's ship left Malero Ganza behind aiming to their destination.

 

 

When Serev walked outside on the ship, all his men were scared, his long black-hair played into the wind's waves letting the red tattoos from his body to shine into the morning's innocent light. Amillia looked confused into his blue eyes.

“Serev...are you alright?” she murmured worried about him.

 

“So my King, you decided your fate” added one of his priests.

 

“Yes, Ares will give me strength to do my role into this world.” Serev howled full of life. “I will protect you with my body as shield and my power as weapon against every evil might come to you.” he murmured taking Amillia's hands into his and leaned his head on hers.

 

“Thank you Serev, we will both protect our people and lands, until our time will end.”

 

Amillia felt that the air around them become a little hard to breathe and a huge hand clenched her from the back and pulled her into the darkened-red sky. Serev tried to jump after her but he stopped when she shouted to him to not interfere. A strange desperation took control over Serev's body, like it temped him to believe that he will never see her again and that was her last warm smile he saw before she disappeared into the sky's deadly flames.

 

“Charon, I will find you.” howled Serev crying for the one he promised he will protect.

 

The flames around her were scratching her body all over once with the speed she was dragged into one of the Hell's Gates which opened like an explosion of auroras into the darkened-Universe. The Gate transformed into small particles of stars when Amillia passed it. Thousands of fire-rocks fell from the sky and stroke the Earth destroying the Lominn Hills into a real cross of hell.

Three of Serev's ships were caught into the fire-rocks rain and blow-up sinking into the ocean. He took control over the helm and aimed with speed towards the twin islands, followed by the only one ship that survived from the rain of fire.

 

 

Dark shades took form surrounding her like serpents. Her hands were locked into two silver chains which were feeding with her blood little by little. Amillia's eyes were closed trying to not watch around, she was able to hear their morbid voices playing near to her but she didn't want to see the filthy creatures which were guarding her into one of the Hell's dungeons. The hot air from the lava-streams, which were melting around the cell, were penetrating into her skin forcing her to embrace the madness which was so near to take control over her mind.

Tears of blood were falling all over Amillia's face. She was feeling the chains and the hot air penetrating into her flesh more and more. She remembered the dreams she used to have once, huge black goats with golden eyes and long wolves fangs, serving her as her own army. Once her father told her that the man's mind have no limits and everything can be real. She never believed him, always thinking that her father had a good imagination in making up stories, but now she wanted to have that army by her side.

A strong amount of concentration arose inside her, feeling like a strange presence awoken inside her, a resident which waited for a long time to be called. Sharp voices were crying along with hers, strong howls good enough to destroy the cell she was caged in. The chains melted on her body like silver waterfalls, her eyes were bleeding, couldn't see nothing around. Amillia's body was shining into the deadly flames, laying golden lines over her naked chest, the demons seemed to retire from their posts, fearing of the girl's wrath, crawling every time she was touching the flames.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Pirates of Calabria - The Ark of the Covenant


by Jaana [aka Cyane]

CHAPTER 3

'Close to the Twins'

A slowly breeze touched her skin. Amillia opened her eyes and took a close look around, she tried to rise up but her body ached, forcing her to fall again into the bed. Her mind was so confused and still she remembered the fight she had with Morgan. The huge room charmed her with its pearly-milk walls ornamented with different old pictures with scenes from battles and tales of an ancient civilization.

 

“Persia” Amillia murmured captivated by the originality of the art.

 

Amillia closed her eyes, and fell asleep happy that she was able to bare the images into her mind.

 

 

 

Captain Morgan released Lady Glaria from the cell and allowed her to recuperate Calenvor, after they arrived in Port Villianna.

 

“Where is that little lass, I'll show her that nobody messes with me” hissed Lady Glaria searching for something into her cabin.

 

“I took care of her, she will be no longer your concern” answered Morgan cleaning his blade filled all with blood.

 

Lady Glaria looked to Morgan and narrowed her eyes towards his sword. She took a sit on her silver chair and seemed to clarify her thoughts.

 

“You killed her.” she broke the silence dodging Morgan's eyes, like no feeling to look at him.

 

“I had a good fight though, she was strong, but now she is the bride of the ocean.” he muttered while he took a swig of rum from a bottle abandoned on the table.

 

“You really are a hellish pirate Morgan, being able to kill your own niece, that makes you really a cold-blood freebooter.”

 

“I never thought about her as my niece”

 

 

“I think your sister hates you from up there. You know, I never met her, but I feel sorry for her.” Lady Glaria murmured taking the bottle from Morgan's hand and swallowed all the rum left.

 

“She was to much carefree” he uttered when he left the cabin, closing the door after him.

 

After Captain Morgan left, Lady Glaria continued to search for something that might have disappeared from her library while she was locked into the cell. When she took some volumes of strong and thick books, she realised that the map she found into the Arkan Dungeons wasn't there, the only way for her to find Nova Artana.

 

“Bloody-lass, she took the map.” Lady Glaria hissed in disgust throwing the books in one of the cabin's corners.

 

Henry Morgan set his ship and aimed the sails towards Malero Ganza Island, his home. His father used to be the governor over the island, but after the revolution his family lost their title and the island became property of the English Army.

He joined the army with a single reason, to destroy them and to regain his lands. After he met Lady Glaria they joined their forces and attacked the English Army's camp regaining his own honour. He was a fine noble in his teen years, but after the tragedy with his family his heart became a temple of hate and blood-thirst, the only one who could make him feel like a man is his own partner, Glaria, which showed him that there out are still people who he can trust.

 

 

 

The sun's shining waves awoke Amillia. She got off of the bed and grabbed a chair to the windows, watching outside curious where she might be. Lots of exotic trees full of leaves and flowers appeared among her eyes, beautiful and colourful. She remembered the days when her father took her everywhere and showed her the world's beauty, sailing and feeling the ocean's strong voice calling them every time they were caught into the middle of storms.

 

“Good morning” a male voice came from nowhere.

 

She jumped from the chair and took the knife, which lied on the left corner of the window, aiming its sharp blade towards him.

 

“Who are you?” she questioned ready to make her move, but the young man was to fast, in no time he appeared in her back and with an amazing strength he forced her hand to let the knife to fall on the ground.

 

“I don't think it is wise to do that. After all I am your rescuer” murmured the man forcing her to calm down.

 

After calming her senses, she looked into the man's eyes searching for weakness or something that might give her a way to strike, but none of these were found on his feature.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“The first city of the Nova Artana Island, Moya.” he answered releasing her from his hands.

 

“Nova Artana? Are you telling me that I am near to them? The twins?”

 

“Not really near but you have to sail a day to meet the two islands. What is your name?”

 

“Amillia”

 

“I am Serev. Nice to meet you” he smiled looking all over her body.

 

“Thanks for savin' me” Amillia murmured grateful grabbing her weapons ready to leave.

 

“Something happened to you. From your clothes and weapons, you might be a pirate, right?”

 

“Captain, Captain Amillia Cortés” she answered clearing her throat.

 

“Good, you must be hungry, so I brought some food.” he muttered giving her the plate with some fruits, meat and some cold drinks.

 

“Oh, thank you. Looks good” she smiled eating fast from the goods which Serev gave her.

After she had her breakfast, Amillia told Serev about her last battle she had with her uncle, Captain Henry Morgan, which she lost it once with her crew and ship.

Serev seemed very calm after he heard her story, but she saw the anger growing into his eyes. The beautiful lines of his body were strained like the strong edges of  a stone.

 

“Serev, are you ok?” Amillia broke the silence which overwhelmed his mind, awaking him from something which might have took control over his thoughts.

 

“Oh yes, I was just...very touched about your sufferings. Well I was thinking that I want to help you to recuperate your people and your ship. So what do you think? Do you want them back?” he mumbled waiting for her answer.

Amillia jumped into his arms cheerful, shouting that she will be glad to have him by her side.

Serev was a little confused about her, he couldn't read her mind, he was sure that it will be hard for him to know her, but he decided that he will not give up and he will break the wall between them and she will tell him all about her...“One day” he murmured convinced that he will know her better.

 

 

 

Sheba felt a little breeze touching her face, the Moon's blue veils were penetrating the little holes from the cell's barred window. She was absorbed by the beauty of the Night's Pearl, laying its light over her body, which made her skin shine like a fish under the ocean's celestial-auroras, so calm and gentle. Her eyes became the Pearl's temple and her lips turned into its sacred melody, chanting into an  language known only by the old Greek gods. The ocean's waves were perturbed by huge silver chains, which were aiming fast towards Calenvor. Sheba closed her eyes and she vanished into little pieces of  ice which exploded destroying the other dungeons around, setting her crew free.

 

Lady Glaria saw too late the chains, which were crossing the tall rocks from the right side of the ship. She shouted her crew to aim with full speed to north.

Sheba was walking over the ocean's waves, she was so light, like a white bridal veil dancing around the  storm, which was fighting, against the deadly chains.

Amallia's crew took control over Calenvor after they shoot half of Lady Glaria's men. Lil Nino jumped from the quarter deck over two tall and strong pirates and struck their skulls with his silver cutlasses. He saw Lady Glaria trying to load her Colt revolver, an early model which was used by Russians fight the Crimean War.

He raised the body of one of a dead freebooters and used it as shield against the strong rain of silver bullets. Lil Nino hit the body away and crossed blades with Lady Glaria, using his cutlasses as defence and dodging her attacks trying to find a way to strike her.

 

The storm was getting worse once with the close whistle of the chains which were moving fast with ravenousness to pierce Sheba's flesh and feed with her blood, but when the first one was ready to hit her, she touched it and changed it into a red iced bridge along with the other ones. The chain-bridge was spreading like Gobi's red-violet sand-storms, covering Sheba's body with shining red glow worms. She opened her eyes and the storm stopped once with the ocean's strong howls, followed by a nice and calmly atmospheric breeze, allowing the Night Pearl to lay out her marvellous blue-shades over the ocean again.

 

“Lilith aunda'si zarti” [Thank you Lilith] murmured Sheba looking to the moon before she fell into the ocean, sinking more and more to its cold bottom.

Lil Nino knocked Lady Glaria out and jumped over the board into the water desperate to save Sheba, swimming towards the ocean's darkened ground to find her.

 

The Pirates of Calabria - The Ark of the Covenant


by Jaana [aka Cyane]

CHAPTER 2

'A FEMALE POPE'

    The sun's waves were covered by hundreds of arrows which pierced Calenvor, once with all the people who were fighting on the ship. After the raid, the stillness took control over the place.

 

Killion's sobs tore the silence. Desperate to get some help he realized that his body was penetrated by arrows which stroke his feet and belly.

 

He never thought that he will end like this, knowing that he was alone all his life and never felt the love of a parent. Killion was abandoned in the Saint Andreano Church gardens when he was just a baby. All his life worked there, being dragged by the other priests to pray with them to God for every soul from this Earth asking for the divine forgiveness.

Killion never wanted to be pulled into this kind of world, which he never believed that can save him from falling into the devil's hands, or to gain his place in heaven.

 

He found this freedom when he met Amallia Cortès, a pirate lass which followed her father's path and created her own freedom by ruling over a ship, Caen, and being respected by her crew.

 

“'mallia...help...” he murmured trying to remember what happened.

 

He saw Lady Glaria, wounded, leaned on the helm, and breathing low. She flow some rum onto her wound howling and trying to resist the pain. She broke her shirt to dress the wound and took a little swing before she throw the bottle of rum over the board. Somebody touched his forehead and gave him a slow flow through dreaming. He closed his eyes and sensed that the presence faded away, like an old memory.

 

Amillia was able to hear Killion's voice, crying and begging for help, but now all she heard was the sea-gull squeals while they were flying around Calenvor. She saw a woman carrying Killion into her arms, very beautiful and so well dressed. Her darkened long hair was covered by a huge gold papal tiara encircled with three crowns.

 

“Pope? No it is a woman” Amillia though feeling so confused.

 

The woman looked for a second to Amillia and offered her hand as help raising the girl into her feet. She looked into the woman's eyes and found that they were blue like the ocean's aurora.

 

“Who...who are you?” Amillia asked with fear into her voice.

The woman touched her eyes and she closed them wide like she was afraid to lose the memory of this rare beautiful countenance. When she opened them she realized that the woman was standing on a different ship ready to hide into the dense clouds which were destined to bring a new storm soon.

Amillia looked over the board and sighed relieved that her men were safe, she searched for Sheba and Lil Nino and realized that they were into the Lady Glaria's Cabin. She rushed inside and saw Lil Nino cleaning Sheba's wounds with water.

 

“What happened?” Amillia murmured watching Sheba curving her body every time Lil Nino was sewing her wounds.

 

“She was hit by two arrows, I need to do this now, she will loose too much blood if we will wait until we'll be back in Port Villianna.” he persuaded.

 

“I am sorry Captain” tried Sheba to talk over her sobs filling her eyes with tears.

 

“You don't need to apologise Sheba, ye look here, we will find the lass which done this to you, ye hear me? I've seen her face and her ship, I will kill her with my own two hands.” promised Amillia pulling her cutlass from the sheath. “Until then we need  to repair this ship.”

 

“What about Lady Glaria? She's still on the quarter deck, wounded.” questioned Lil Nino helping Sheba to put her clothes on.

 

“We will take her with us, she knows something about this. I want her to take me to Zertuga.”

 

 

The storm came shortly after the arrows raid, spreading its fury over the sea and bringing the hellish thunders which stroke the sky with their lightning. The sea seemed to awake from its long sleep and became controlled by the storm, smashing its waves over the cliffs and carrying them towards the docks.

 

Amillia was so concentrated over all the books, which were from Lady Glaria's personal library, that she didn't felt the storm. She found information about Nova Artana, the twin island of Zertuga. Not long until she found the main source, a map with all the hidden paths that can help her to find the islands without problems.

 

The legend says that between those two islands, an ark has been buried into the sea. Its propose was to hold the tablets on which God had inscribed the Ten Commandments. Fashioned from wood and covered inside and out with pure gold, the ark was surmounted by a heavy lid of gold bearing two cherubim and two golden rings were attached to the sides, the Ark of the Covenant.

She knew that all those had a strong connection between the Ark and the Royal Eye, she could say that she feel it under her skin. She remembered the day when her father gave her a ring with a huge and strong beautiful green stone, which he told her that was the treasure of the great pirate king, Bartholomew Roberts. Amillia guessed why it was Bartholomew's great treasure, the stone was carrying the right eye of Hernán Cortés, a little stone which is changing its colour every time is touched and can open the Pandora box.

 

Several hours passed after the storm calmed down and Amillia left Port Villianna, with both Calenvor and Caen, aiming towards the two islands. Lil Nino took command and sailed her ship behind Calenvor.

Amillia locked Lady Glaria into one of the cells of Calenvor's basement with the ones who survived from her crew.

 

Lady Glaria became pirate when she was twelve years old. She used to steal from other sailors and fight with pirates for her freedom, but one night she had the opportunity to meet Commodore Cromwell, a fine man who believed that every soul can be saved  and every man can change, but not in Glaria's case.

 

When Commodore Cromwell met her in San Leo Square, she was waiting in a corner hoping that someone will give her some money or food. He took her into his custody and taught her to master the blade combat. She ran away when she was fifteen, seeking for Henry Morgan, a pirate who at that time was general in the English Army. She knew his secret about his dream to command over the sea and also his connection with pirates.

Morgan earned fame and respect among his friends and enemies alike thanks to his successful attacks over the Capital of the Mexican province Tobasco, Vilahermosa, and Gran Granada, the silver mining, centre of Nicaragua.

 

After she found Morgan, she fell in love for the first time and no long passed until she became his right hand. After five years of fighting, arm to arm with him, she decided to become herself Captain over a ship. She employed her proper crew, an army of mercenaries, and killed all the crew of Calenvor, Commodore's Cromwell ship. Before the Commodore died, she realized that he was waiting for her, his eyes were happy, for seeing her after those years of loneliness, which he told her that were to long and painful and he stopped believing that she was still alive.

 

“Glaria, I wanted to tell you that...that I am happy to see how beautiful and fine woman you became. I hope you'll find what you sought all alone and I wish you well.” Cromwell murmured looking into her eyes.

 

 

He ran into her blade, piercing his heart and dying into her arms. Her soul was crying, something inside her broke and released a huge anger into her heart. She swore that she will never be weak again and never will feel love.

 

 

 

A cannon fire awakened Lady Glaria from her sleep. She was able to hear a crowd of voices outside, the shouts and growls of the pirates while they were fighting,  crossing blades and releasing their loudly bullets all around the ship.

 

Amillia cut the enemy with her cutlass from her way and managed to go to the quarter deck and took control over the helm. She turned Calenvor in the same position as the enemy's ship and shot their main mast but she was stroke by a bullet which harmed her right arm. Amillia seized the helm with the left hand and avoided to fall to the ground. Sensing the edge of the bullet burning her flesh, she howled feeling the pain deeper, like the bullet was digging into her arm more and more.

 

A shadow covered her face, a man was standing between her and the light of the sun. Amillia tried to pick up her gun but the man hit her with his foot into the chest  letting her to fall over the shrouds, her body pounding the main deck. She felt confused and a huge pain lightened her back. When she arose up on her feet the man jumped on the deck and aimed a blade towards her. He was waiting for Amillia to draw her own blade.

 

“Morgan, wha're ya doing here?” she asked resting against of the fore mast.

 

“I remembered that we had a meetin' and...i just thought that a little self-invitation will not harm, don' ya think?” he jeered directing the edge of his blade to her chest.

 

“Well ya see, i've been a littl' busy. Personal business.”

 

“Are you now? I was asking myself why ya are on Lady Glaria's ship. Or maybe ya want to hide somethin' form your old uncle, hmmm?” he narrowed his eyes  doubting that she will tell the truth.

 

“Naaaah...just a little play. Ya know I always wanted to sail this ship.” she muttered with a naughty smile on her face.

Morgan jabbed his hand into her neck and rose her higher that her feet couldn't touch the ground. She was trying to breath but Morgan's fingers were graved into her muscles and she wasn't able to fill her lungs with air. Amillia made an effort to hit him with her feet but he was to fast, he stroke her body with his sword and kissed her lips as a last farewell.

Captain Morgan threw Amillia's body into the water and ordered his crew to return to Port Villianna.

Caen was way to far from Calenvor. No one could save her, she was surrounded by ocean's cold arms, dragging her deeper and deeper to the bottom. The sun's shapes were so unclear from there. Amillia closed her eyes waiting for her last moments to come.

 

The Fallen Hero

by Jaana [aka Cyane]

“Winter has come for her,

The cold froze her senses,

Rope the Heavens,

And smashed the Hell's flames.”

 

 

“The night keeps a hold on her frail breath,

Taking away the warmth she's longing for,

The life chains are at the edge of loss,

Slipping into Charon's arms.”

 

 

“She's crying abandoned,

Into the hands of frozen gods,

Swearing that one day

She will conquer her foes again.”

 

“A last tear broke free from her eye,

Begging the time to tell her tale,

A tale of lost memories, slashing a destiny,

A follower of the fallen but a hero of the ground.”