Chương 340: 6.7

John was quite certain he absolutely hated traveling by cave sloop. He did not immediately. For the first few days it was not so bad. The lack of sun or stars was mostly kept at bay by the smoldering hot coals in metal 'lanterns' that the crew preferred over wicks, candles or other torches. Unlike how he'd expected the air was also wonderfully fresh down in the depths. And so regularly changing that they set their day's labor to it. The wind taking over the rhythm of activities from dawn or dusk.

They woke with the first whistle of wind coming from upriver. The crew quickly pulled up anchor in a great rush and unfurled sails with a practice of a lifetime in this howling dark. In the narrowest tunnels where the captain favored stopping for the 'backblow' the rage of the elements was deafening and the hot coals flared brighter than ever. It was only after they were underway again, chanting their deep songs echoing into the dark that they actually had breakfast.

The crew ate their daily rations while they worked to keep the wind in the sails and guided the sloop away from the walls of the tunnel. Then as the howling began to die back into the lull other work began. Another meal, some maintenance. Then an hour or so after that and before the 'backblow' began the sails were furled, the ship allowed to drift along with the current and the captain demanded absolute silence from his passengers and crew. That was when the singing started.

Great howling calls out into the dark from a man hanging from the foremost part of the ship. Not quite screaming into the dark but long and loud. Then waiting as he listened to his own voice or that of other ships echoing back. And then more wailing calls, back and forth, his own voice or that of others in the dark. After that time they had their last meal of the day, the captain would direct them by dim light to some shelter along the cave walls, and then they would drop anchors.

Doubly secure the sails and every cave sloop sailor would then be off to sleep. John wondered how they could manage it. Instead of night marking an end, life on the cave sloop 'ended' when the 'backblow' started. A howling fury that began as a whisper and then grew and grew until an overwhelming roar filled the air. That wind deafened all thought and for any sane man from a place with a proper sky it forbade all rest or sleep no matter how weary. John would have hated Cave Sloop travel just for that alone.

But that was before they came upon the 'dead winds' He hadn't noticed it at first, but every 'day' the wind was weaker when the sailors started their labors. Every backblow they had to sleep through was less fierce. Time by time the wind grew weaker. Until finally by slowest change one 'night' John realized he didn't have to struggle to sleep. But the quieting got worse after that and then the near silence was what got to him.

When it wasn't drowned out by the voices of sailors and the sound of creaking wood and ropes. The singing and wailing got louder as the wind died and then what silence there was at night changed. The work changed to shifts. The captain called up half his men to always be working, to always be rowing or pushing off the walls. The dull lighting of the hot coals was so dim now it made John's eyes ache, without the constant flare from a daily wind it smoldered dim and hard to see by. Darkness and dull red he saw then.

John was left wondering if he'd ever see sunlight again, or even the warm glow of a candle. He wondered if he'd ever see the color of the sky. How long were they going to be down in this darkness? It was supposed to be half a season? Robin said as much but John had lost all rhythm. How was he to know the captain was keeping the time of the day? Without the light or even the wind how was he to know? He thought that the time of dead wind was the worst. But then they came upon something that shocked him to his core.

The Walls disappeared. He'd not even realized how comforting the faint lines of contoured stone and rock and sandy shores in the dim glow of the 'sloop lanterns' were. Even the sporadic glimpse of a ceiling, being able to imagine there was a sky above it. Now his eyes ached with the strain of trying to see anything in this gloom that wasn't immediately on the ship, but where he had seen those signs but now he didn't. And he missed it. The crimson glow on the water from the lanterns around the ship.

The strange comfort of enclosing walls. But then they came around a bend and suddenly even that faint hint of walls was gone. The cavern opened up into blackness. A void so total it shocked John still. The songs all died in the throats of the sailors. Without order or word they dropped anchor and in that silence he heard the thick sand catching on the heavy weight as the ship slowed to a halt. The currents of the water flowing around it. Glittering in that dim light.

A sense of vertigo, fear that he was about to fall upward into that sudden abyss before, above, and all around them. Not even the water ahead seemed to last. The glitter swallowed up into the pure black where the ship's light did not reach. And then, dimly, feebly, as if he was looking upon them from a greater distance than ever before or they had been somehow broken by the blackness around them. John saw stars.

At first, part of him thought the journey was over, that they had just happened to emerge during a darker night, and some strange cloud or canopy was responsible for the dimming. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He was briefly puzzled that there was no relief. But then he realized these stars were wrong. They swam and moved like leaves in the wind, just far slower.

But not all of them even as he watched some suddenly spun out and flickered away. Others appeared out of nowhere in a way John had never seen the sky do. Many others shined brighter and dimmer in slow ponderous pulses. And they were all the wrong color, the night sky was not meant to be all blue and green, not like this. Stars were pale white piercing things, but these were soft and dim. That was when one of the sailors slapped John upside the head and the Captain hissed a warning." Don't look at the lights!"

Around the sloop other crew members were warning the passengers and a few of the fresher deck hands." Eyes down! they'll curse ya."' John tried to obey the warning! But having seen nothing but the dull red light of coals John could hardly keep from glancing. Still the tone about looking sat ill in his stomach, so he only peeked furtively. One of the other passengers must have had it worse with the constant gloom than John.

He stared at 'stars' far longer, only seeming to turn down when one of the crew glanced his way. At least from what John saw. The ship was anchored. So they were staying on this shore for some time? John didn't know, the captain didn't tell him or anyone else, just muttered softly with the crew. They were taking shifts on watch to stare off into the black for some reason? Was it just nonsense they were not supposed to look at the lights? Another one of the crew's japes on the sky lovers?

No, John spotted it after a while, none of them were looking up or down either, they stared straight ahead into the black away from the shore, as if looking intently for something. Or maybe just trying to avoid even a glimpse at the sparse reflection John was starting to make out, extending ahead of them in every direction? No, they were seeking something out there in the black.

John was trying to spot what they were looking for, trying to keep his gaze from drifting up to the wonderful blue motes dancing above or now that he saw them glittering in the water. It was putting an ache in his neck to keep his gaze level.

"AYEAAAH!" There was a shout behind him! He turned sharply just in time to see the passenger that had been more than stealing glances at the 'stars' rush for one of the lanterns! The crew tried to grab him, the captain hissed orders. But still no one yelled, no one among the crew spoke over a whisper. John listened and watched, not sure what he was supposed to do, the job as Robin told him did not cover what to do if a Passenger went crazy!

The man dodged a sailor trying to grab him around the waist and tore open the cover of the lantern! The light playing over a face with the widest smile John had ever seen. His voice peeling from between those teeth as he giggled. Then the laughing madman grabbed a lit coal in his hand! The crew was drawing blades! John moved to get his own free, their job was to try and guard the crew and cargo. But if whatever was going on was serious enough to draw steel then John would join them!

But the passenger ran for the edge of the boat, crying in joy! His voice piercingly loud amidst everyone else's stifled sound. It left John rooted in shock, what was he thinking?! As the passenger leapt into the air the light flared searing bright in his hand, far stronger than any of them had seen in over a dozen days or more, John's sight went completely white and he stayed frozen now for an entirely different reason. Running blind with a knife was a good way to stab yourself. He heard a splash of water.

Then hissed curses from the captain and crew. But no sound of anyone trying to go after the fleeing passenger, just muttering and orders. By the time John could see again he saw the man with the searing bright light clenched in his fist. He'd somehow managed to keep the burning coal in his hand dry while swimming? Perhaps some sorcery? He'd climbed onto a shore that John could finally see clearly with the searing torch of light to shine on it. What looked like black sand?

The flaring glow from the man's fist made it hard to say, the color shining crimson through his flesh. John could see the shadow of his bones. That crazed laughter still peeling free, straining between clenched teeth. As he spun and leapt and 'cavorted' (John heard that one from Bruiser). What was wrong with him?! He was manic and bounding, stumbling sometimes. As John stared the figure grew distant. running and dancing away from them. Tracing sand with that glowing fist.

John could see that light dwindling for what felt like hours, getting further away across an endless expanse. Sand upon sand upon sand until it was barely a glittering speck. John stared after the man, blinking the burning spots out of his eyes. Finally he mustered the courage and thought to ask. He whispered to the captain." S-shouldn't we go after him?" The Captain shook his head and spat on the deck, voice low." No point going after him, he's light drunk and frenzied for it.

None of us could match his pace and we'd drop tired before he did. Only chance is to grab them before they get away. Get them somewhere dark in the hold to sober up." Robin glared at the flickering speck and the flailing limbs of the figure.

"How far does it go? Those sands?" The Captain shrugged.

"Goes forever for all I know, as far as anyone's looked. At least if from those that even came back from looking." The captain nodded to Robin then spoke in a tone that carried but yet was still barely over a whisper." Let this be a lesson for all of y'all, Don't look at the lights, Don't make more than a peep, If that man's lucky he will run himself to death on the sands or die of thirst." That said the sloop captain turned away from Robin and John and stared out into the blackest void. Eyes squinting, muttering."

Stupid sunlover, spoiling our eyes!" John glanced back at the little mote of red-yellow light. The only sign of the man, then suddenly the light was gone. Hidden by something perhaps? He waited staring at the black for the sign of the fleeing crazed 'light drunk' man to return. But the darkness did not reveal him again. Just blackness now in the distance that made John's eyes itch to look too long at. Yes, John was quite certain he absolutely hated travel by cave sloop.