Living With Undeath: Chapter 2 - To Relinquish or Defy

The air was cold. It smelt of salt and ice. As the passing ocean air brushed aggressively against Zee's face, forcing him to place a hand on his hood, his thoughts wandered far from the ship. Ahead there was only darkness, but Zee, along with all others aboard, knew exactly what awaited.

Dormant storm clouds hid the moon and the stars from sight. Were it not for the glow of a single lantern dangling from the mast, the crew would be as good as blind. The wind picked up, pounding against the ship. An eerie howl glided across the deck, sending a deathly chill into the very bones of all who dared stand against it. Even Zee, whose body was virtually numb to the world, could feel the dread sweeping across the ship. This was an unnatural sort of weather.

The wind carried with it the scent of the shore. Iron and stale bread - the scent of blood and death. Zee's hands still trembled. The captain had informed him of their destination days ago, and still Zee was horrified.

A heavy hand landed on Zee's shoulder, startling him nearly out of his skin. He turned to his left and followed the arm that rested on his shoulder, finding that it belonged to the first mate. The first mate was young. He was about the same age as Zee was when he passed.

" You doin' okay? It's awfully cold out here. You sure you don't wanna' go below deck with the other passengers? "

Zee shook his head, " I'm not a fan of cramped spaces. " Only an undead could appreciate the irony of that sentence.

" I hear ya'. You be careful up here. The bow is the last place you wanna' be with the wind blowin' like this. "

" Thanks. I'll be alright. "

The young man nodded, and made his way back to the stern. Though he and the captain might have hated it, Zee had grown fond of this darkness. Hiding his face was all the easier in such poor lighting.

The smell of the dead came all at once, filling the young undead's sensitive nostrils. They were getting closer. Zee loosened the leather strap that kept his small sack closed tight and attached to his hip. He reached inside with his pointer and thumb, removing one of the seven tiny bottles. He held the glass container between his two fingers, watching the liquid inside dance as his trembling hands performed a dance of their own. Removing the miniature cork that halted the liquid's escape, Zee closed his eyes and downed the shot of preservative. Not the best flavor in the world, and it burned on the way down. Some would appreciate such a sensation, but Zee had never been much of a drinker.

Zee's gaze shifted once again to the approaching waters. In the distance, he could see faint lights. As the ship drew nearer, the dim glows revealed themselves to be torches. The welcoming committee eagerly awaited the ship's arrival. Along with the soldiers holding the torches, dozens of frightened people stood, waiting. Elves and men alike shivered in the cold, praying to whatever god they held faith in that this ship would be theirs - that this was the ship that would guide them and their children away from this god-awful nightmare.

Once they had docked, Zee was among the first to disembark from the ship. He had nearly been shoved off the dock by the hurrying mob. The instant Zee's foot met with the soil, another hand placed itself on the young undead's shoulder. Zee kept his head low as he glanced at the source. An elven soldier, clad in armor, spoke grimly.

" ...Welcome to Raiaera. "

((Solo/Open to PM))