Another Hero's Journey...to Krawk Island

     Andrea tapped her spoon against her empty bowl impatiently. “What’s taking Reuben so long? Please don’t tell me he got sidetracked by new daggers or something.” She glanced at the cold, untouched bowl of clam chowder beside her.

      “I wish I knew,” said Rohane, trying not to meet any of the several pairs of eyes watching him around the restaurant and sinking slightly in his seat. A Jetsam nearly ran right into an empty table and was reprimanded by a JubJub polishing the counter. “He said he’d be quick.”

      “Do you think he got lost?”

     “The Fishermen’s Guild is easy to find, he could ask anyone if he got lost,” the white Blumaroo reasoned as he finished the last of his chowder.

     The red Kyrii rubbed her temples after dropping her spoon back into her bowl. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself as though a chill wind had blown into the eatery. “I have a bad feeling about this, Rohane.”

      “Me, too.” Rohane stood up. “Let’s look for him. Seaside isn’t a very big place; someone should have seen him.”

      “I hope you’re right.” Andrea raised her hand to wave the green Jetsam server over. “We’ll take that third bowl to go. Reuben must be starving.”

     * * *

      “I did see your brother pass by,” an old moustachioed Buzz rumbled, pointing with his cane down Wood Carver’s Lane. “But…but I had to leave and meet someone over at the Blubberin’ Blandfish, so I didn’t see where he went. So sorry I couldn’t be of help, sir.”

      “Thanks,” mumbled Rohane, his shoulders drooping as the Buzz flew away. He gazed down the lane, at the shops and the houses which led to the pier, several anchored ships, and the sea. Already the sun was preparing to set. “Come on, Andrea.”

     She looked away from several carved figurines – Neopets, petpets, faeries – on display in a shop window. “I wonder if these were the ones he wanted. The shopkeeper said she didn’t see Reuben either.”

     The two of them continued their quest, knocking on every door, questioning each passerby regarding the whereabouts of a white Blumaroo bigger than Rohane, wearing a brown cloak and a belt full of daggers. The most they got were fleeting sightings of Reuben, but no one saw or noticed where he had gone.

     But the tables began to turn when they encountered a portly spotted Tonu coming out from the nearest shop with a load of firewood. He wore a three-cornered hat and faded sailor’s garb.

      “Excuse me, sir,” said Andrea breathlessly after sprinting the distance between herself and him. “Have you seen a white Blumaroo? Tall, with a brown cloak – “

     The Tonu looked down at her with intense eyes, but she did not back down. Neither did Rohane, who already had one hand on his sword hilt. The three words he said lent them hope.

      “I sure did,” he grunted, inclining his head toward an alley blocked by several wooden crates. “He ran into a brown Grundo with an eyepatch – or should I say, the Grundo ran into him, and the two of them fell into the alley.”

      “But how?” Andrea asked. “There are crates…”

      “See, that’s the thing,” the Tonu replied. “There were no crates when I passed by and that Grundo and the Blumaroo fell into that alley. I’ve lived in Seaside for years; I know this place like the back of my back.”

      “Are you sure that’s where you saw them?” Rohane pressed.

     The Tonu nodded. “Sure, as eggs are eggs, Sir Knight,” he said, noticing the flash of Rohane’s red, blue and gold knight badge under his cloak. He led the way to the alley, put down his firewood, and began shifting the crates away. Rohane and Andrea hurried over to help until they had cleared the way and the stench of the area hit them.

      “Ugh,” complained the Kyrii, pinching her nose. Then she crouched down to examine the ground. She gasped, reaching out to grab two fallen daggers with detailed handles. “These are Reuben’s! They have his signature on the cross-guards!”

      “Something happened. Footprints, scuff marks, his daggers left behind…” The white Blumaroo suddenly pushed Andrea away from the scene. “Stay away from that puddle.”

      “What is it?”

      “Slumberberry Potion,” the Tonu answered, giving the spilt potion a wide berth. “One touch, one whiff, and it’s off to Dreamland with you.”

      “Where does this alley lead?” asked Andrea, but she immediately got her answer when she looked at the end of the alley; it opened out onto the pier. Biting her lip, she ran toward it, leaving the Tonu to quickly pick up his firewood before following her. As the three of them stepped onto the wharf, they met a pirate Aisha sitting on an overturned bucket with a fishing pole. At first, he squinted at all of them before his face lit up.

      “Aye, as I live an’ breathe!” the Aisha exclaimed. “If it ain’t Rohane, champion of Meridell! Ah, ye must be ‘sir’ now, eh?”

     Andrea turned to Rohane, who chuckled and approached the Aisha, extending a hand.

     “Yeah. It’s good to see you again, Uthyni.”

      “You know each other?”

     Uthyni laughed uproariously as he put away his fishing pole to shake Rohane’s hand. “Aye, lass. He was so green ye could plant ‘im with a batch o’ fertilizer! But lookit ye now! A knight, an’ a hero!” Leaning aside, he noticed the spotted Tonu, who was bending down to catch his breath. “Ol’ Cap’n Markham! Ye gonna sail th’ seas again?”

     Markham shook his head. “Nah, I’m helping these young ones look for Reuben.”

      “Reuben?” Uthyni repeated. “Oh, yer brother!” He pointed to Rohane before shaking his head. “Ain’t seen ‘im.”

      “But he probably went this way,” the white Blumaroo said, spreading his arms. “This is the only lead we have…” He snapped his fingers. “Wait. Did you see any ships here? Did you see anyone else come out from that alley?”

     The pirate Aisha stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…I did see a ship docked ‘ere. Quite the beauty, aye, but clearly a Krawk Island ship type. Skull an’ crossbones an’ all, called the Cofferling. Saw a brown Grundo git on board wit’ a Kougra an’ a Kiko…”

      “A brown Grundo!” Andrea exclaimed. “Reuben was last seen running into one – did he have an eyepatch?”

      “Aye, a pretty velvet one, lass. An’…an’…wait!” Uthyni jumped up as though a petpetpet had stung him. “A Grundo, a Kougra, a Kiko…they ‘ad someone else wit’ ‘em, couldn’t tell from the brown cloak at first but that ‘un had long ears. An’ they were draggin’ ‘em on board.”

      “Reuben!” cried Andrea and Rohane together.

     “Are you sure?” Markham pressed.

      “Did you see where that ship went?” asked Andrea.

     Uthyni jerked a thumb toward the general direction of the sea. “There be only one port that ship’ll be sailin’ fer. That, and I seen that brown Grundo a couple o’ times, heard ‘im an’ ‘is mates talkin’. The Aisha then pointed to his ears and winked. “Krawk Island regulars, that lot. The pirate Kougra is Cap’n Wilhelm, rumor has it he’s a notorious smuggler an’ a strong fighter.”

     “And he just smuggled away my brother,” Rohane snarled, gripping his sword hilt.

      “We need to go after him,” Andrea decided, stamping her foot. As she did so, bright sparks of light fanned out from the point of impact, causing both Uthyni and Markham to place some distance between her and them.

     “But how?” Rohane wondered, throwing up his hands. “We don’t have a ship. We don’t even know which one of these other ships is bound for Krawk Island or whether they’ll take us on board.” The white Blumaroo paused, letting his arms drop back to his sides. “Do I have to play the ‘I’m Sir Rohane and I need your ship’ card?”

     Andrea glared at him; he could have sworn that her eyes flashed with more than just determination and anger. “You know you have to.”

     Uthyni let out a breath and picked up his fishing pole. “I be but a simple fisher-Aisha. Ain’t got much to me name nowadays ‘cept me faithful fishing dinghy. Now, Cap’n Markham, on th’ other hand…”

     The spotted Tonu shook his head vigorously. “Ohhhh, no. I haven’t been out at sea for years. All that my ship is good for now is being my home.”

     “Ye would say no to Sir Rohane?” Uthyni threw down his pole and approached Markham, jabbing a finger into the Tonu’s chest. “The blade that saved Meridell, Terror Mountain, the Lost Desert, Faerieland…”

     “And the Haunted Woods,” the red Kyrii supplied.

     “And the Haunted Woods!” Uthyni continued. “C’mon, ye owe the lad and this lass this much! He saved Meridell, help ‘im save ‘is brother!”

     Markham groaned through gritted teeth and stepped back from the Aisha. “You know I’m, well, covered in barnacles and all that.”

     “Th’ sea is still in ye! Y’can find Krawk Island like the back o’ yer back!”

     “Uthyni, I really can’t…”

     “Please, Mr. Markham,” Andrea pleaded. “Reuben means so much to us. Right now, we can only offer cold clam chowder in a carton bowl, but we’ll make it up to you somehow.”

     Markham ran a hand through his thick, tangled mane and sighed with resignation. “Can’t say no to a lass with a big heart…and of course, to Sir Rohane himself.” He cracked his knuckles. “Right. I’ll take you two to Krawk Island, but first, you have to show me that you two have what it takes to survive there.”

     “Ye kiddin’ me?” Uthyni interrupted. “We’re talkin’ ‘bout Sir Rohane here, and th’ lass is magic!”

      “Krawk Island and the seas are a merciless, lawless place. It’s why I settled down,” the Tonu answered. Nevertheless, he gestured for Rohane and Andrea to follow him. “C’mon, let’s see what you two are really made of before we set sail.”

     * * *

     Reuben stared at himself in the full-length mirror between the two beds in the inn room he shared with his brother. A tall, solidly built white Blumaroo stared back at him pensively, with eyes that were normally quicker to light up than to dim, and a face more accustomed to smiling and laughing than frowning. He smoothed out the roan vest over his white shirt, and his reflection did the same.

     He reached into his inner vest pocket and took out the velvet box with the sapphire ring. Opening the box, Reuben presented it before his mirror self.

     “’ Andrea, we’ve known each other for a long time,’” he recited before shaking his head. “No, no, that doesn’t sound right. ‘Andrea, I thought of you, how your eyes are the purest blue I’ve ever seen…’ Ugh, that’s so cheesy.” Scowling, Reuben snapped the box shut and returned it to his pocket.

      “I’ll figure it out,” he grumbled as though his reflection would have any encouraging words or advice to offer.

     When Reuben opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in his inn room, but in a dingy barred cell with only a bench chained to the wooden wall and a dilapidated bucket for furniture. As he tried to sit up, the floor rocked under him, which he initially dismissed as dizziness. But he soon realized, as a dead weight seemed to fall from his throat down to his stomach, that the floor’s constant swaying had a steady feel to it and the smell of salt was everywhere. A small, bolted porthole confirmed his fear – he was out at sea.

     The second thing he noticed was that he was extremely groggy and waking up from a long, peaceful sleep – perhaps, too peaceful.

     Dread and fear lent him enough strength to finally stand up, and he looked out through the bars at a small chamber lit only with sparse lamps and a candle on a table, which illuminated a few daggers in their sheaths. Stairs led up to a trapdoor, and there were hammocks, crates, barrels, and puddles scattered everywhere. Water dripped down from the ceiling above.

     Reuben’s hands flew to his waist and his arms. His assortment of blades was no longer under his sleeves or at his belt, but on the table, which was too far to reach.

     The trapdoor opened, and a pirate Kougra clambered down and crossed the chamber to face Reuben through the bars, a tray with stale bread and a cup of juice in his hands.

     “Oh good, you’re awake.”

     “What do you want from me?” Reuben demanded.

      “Times are hard, you know,” the Kougra answered calmly as he left the tray in front of the bars. “Too many smugglers spoil the booty, and customs regulations have gotten tighter over the years. So, we’ve decided to turn to a new trade – why smuggle weaponry when you can smuggle the guy who makes them?” He leaned against the bars. “tell you what – work for us, give us weapons to sell, then we’ll give you a cut of the profits. We know you’re one of Meridell’s best swordsmiths.”

     The white Blumaroo gritted his teeth and folded his arms across his chest, glaring at the Kougra.

     “Only a cut, when the weapons are all my work?”

     “Better than making you work for peanuts, or nothing…or robbing you blind.”

     Reuben’s hands flew to his vest as he patted his pockets. He felt the comforting weight of the box containing the ring, but it was not as comforting as he’d hoped.

     “I’m Captain Wilhelm, and I’m very easy to talk to…Reuben.”

     “Are you, really?” Reuben raised his eyebrows. “Then maybe we could’ve talked instead of you kidnapping me!”

     Wilhelm laughed. “Well, I doubted you would be as easy to talk to as me.” He examined his claws. “Anyway, think about my offer. You have a few days until we make port at Krawk Island.”

     “K-Krawk Island?!”

     The Kougra turned away, unhooking the ring of keys at his belt, and jingling them. “Be glad we’re keeping you fed and giving you premium lodgings. Gotta put you to work as soon as we land.”

     Gripping the bars so tightly his knuckles paled, Reuben glowered at Wilhelm until the pirate captain climbed the stairs and vanished from sight. The Blumaroo’s gaze shifted to the porthole, his only view of the world outside his cell. Already the sun was sinking below the horizon, much like his heart.

      To be continued…