This tale takes place in the land of Thael, a rich fantasy world and mythos developed over twenty years by the staff and youth of Renaissance Adventures who explore and co-create Thael through live-action roleplaying.
Link to Chapter 1:
https://steemit.com/story/@spark/chapter-1-the-pirate-s-last-wish-a-fantasy-tale-set-in-thael
LInk to Chapter 2:
https://steemit.com/fiction/@spark/chapter-2-the-pirate-s-last-wish-a-fantasy-tale-set-in-thael
Link to Chapter 3:
https://steemit.com/fiction/@spark/chapter-3-the-pirate-s-last-wish-a-fantasy-tale-set-in-thael
The Pirate's Last Wish
Chapter Four
by Mark Hoge / Spark
One year passed. Shell welcomed the year as a refreshing change from his past. He became the healer of the town, and the protector. He taught any apprentice who asked to learn his arts. In the second year the town called upon him to become the Jarl. He declined. He did not reveal that he was afraid that a past self might arise within him and show its head, once the crown was placed. In the third year, the town began calling him Jarl, despite his protests. They saw that his service to the town, his guidance to the council, and his presence and talents befit that of a Jarl. He was a Jarl, whether he liked it or not.
Over the three years, a love blossomed between Shell and Mera. They had lived together in her family’s home, and Beeseeker, her boy, loved and admired Shell, and the man and boy often were crafting or sailing together. The home was shared with others of the family – grandparents, cousins, and more. Nine in all, lived in the large home, and tended to the fishing boats and gardens. And throughout the three years a slow ember glowed between Shell and Mera, though neither spoke of it. In the third year, when the embers of love grew into the warmth and brightness of a home’s hearth, the two decided to wed.
One rosy dawn the village gathered at the coastal altar. All wore their finest, decked out with silver torcs and rings, and jeweled swords. Songs were sung, and Shell and Mera stood together, ready to make the Vows of the Beloved with each other.
Unexpectedly, the Lady of the Harbor glided to the edge of the waters. Rare to ever see her, she smiled at all, and the townsfolk marveled, in awe. She motioned to Shell, and he clambered down the rocks to approach the waters where the Lady rested. She was in her mermaid form, silver scaled and lovely. Her eyes were clear, and gazed searchingly at Shell, to see his spirit deep within.
As Shell approached, the cold voice of his past began to argue within him. A’ruin’s voice complaining, raging, “She is the one who took my power! She is the one who took my ship!”
For a moment, his past self got the better of Shell, and as he crouched by the sea, he tersely whispered to the mermaid archdeva, “I should slay you!”
She cocked her head, smiling warmly, and replied, “Would that make you happy, Jarl of Stonesweep Harbor, ye who holds the heart of my pure Mera Surfsinger?”
A tense silence, then he sighed. A’ruin fled forever more, and Shell laughed until he cried.
“No. No, dear Lady, I am happy now, more than ever. I have my betrothed, Mera, and the boy Beeseeker. I have a town that I’ve grown to care for.” He smiled with heartfelt gratitude. “You granted me my wish for happiness.”
“No,” answered the bright eyed mermaid, “You granted the wish. Only you could find your true happiness.”
“Hell found me,” he said solemnly, “and I found myself.”
Reaching out, he took her hand in his, and bowing his head he placed his forehead against her closed hand in thankfulness.
The Archdeva of the Sea whispered gently, “You have learned to use your powers wisely, I see. And so, I have a gift for thee.”
She pulled his hand close to her lips, and kissed it tenderly. And with a loving smile, she departed, gliding with the tides, until she melted into sea foam.
He breathed deeply. Something felt different, as if he stood more firmly on the earth, as if he wore a cloak of gold, sun-sparkling, heavy in a rich way. Smiling in joy, he turned to climb up to his beloved. He grinned at all the townsfolk, and laughed. But the laughter choked in his throat. The grin fell into an open-mouthed expression of surprise and horror.
The townsfolk were staring in fear and shock at him. They began to mutter, and the men drew their swords and daggers. Mera, Shell’s Beloved, fell to her knees weeping, shaking her head. One grey-maned warrior cried out, “It is A’ruin Runeson! You slew my son!”
“No,” Shell whispered, “not again.” Looking down he saw the mermaid’s gift: she had returned what she had stolen. Runes wrapped his hands and forearms. He could feel runes coursing over his face as well, and now he could feel the latent power of the runic magic. Even without the dreadlocks of A’ruin Runeson, the town now recognized their foe from three years before.
Swords were drawn, teeth bared, and a host of men cautiously began to approach.
Shell found his sword was in his hand. He stared at it, and felt the ripple of runic power awaiting his commands. He shook his head, “No.” And he tossed the sword to the ground, and stood, open-armed.
“Yes, I was A’ruin Runeson. But he is dead. I am sorry for the grief he caused, I caused. But I am not that man now. I am Shell. I am the Beloved of Mera. I love you, Mera. I love you, Beeseeker, and I love many of you. This is my town now, and if you let me, I will serve you as best I can. I will make it up to you, as best I can. I will be your healer, even your Jarl if you choose. I am sorry. And I will not fight you, come what will.”
Silence greeted Shell’s speech. He knelt upon the ground, and bowed his head. “It is done,” he thought. “Full circle this tale, a wish, my death, my life reborn in joy. And now, my death, when all that I cherish has finally been revealed to me.” He shed gentle tears, not for his coming death, but for the unborn children he wished to birth.
“Enough. Let this be done,” he prayed, and opening his arms he awaited the blades that would surely end this tragedy.
A bundle of limbs and hair and tears fell into his arms, instead. Mera, kissing him and holding him, wept and clung to him tightly. The crowd challenged each other to what should be done. Some wrathful folk surged forward, but were held back by comrades, and the debating council. Finally, the crowd quieted, and one elder stepped forward to lay a hand upon the weeping man.
“Ye are welcome here, Shell. Ye are welcome here.”
~
I wish I could say they lived happily ever after – Shell and Mera. But life and love is like the sea, ever-changing: sweet and salty, calm and stormy. However, even the stormy sea is beautiful, when seen from a coastal peak, or from the windows of a warm home, or when seen with eyes that love the sea in all her forms.
THE END
Introducing Mark Hoge
I LARP for a Living - I'm passionate about ethical leadership, experiential education, conflict resolution, conscious parenting, storytelling, fantasy writing, RPGs, and personal growth.
My Introduction Post:
An Invitation
Thanks for reading! I invite you to read, explore, engage, and dialogue with the coming posts I will slowly but surely be sharing.
@Spark
Mark Hoge, Director of Renaissance Adventures, LLC.