"It's true I tell you! You should've seen Mr. Gushlow when he was tellin' us, his face was as white as the sails above!" Exclaimed Micah to the table, enthusiastically peeling an orange.
Horace was unimpressed, which was hardly a surprise to the others.
"I dunno why I even bother to entertain your tall tails, the lot of you have your heads full of your nan's old stories." He said with a sigh, even Emeline appeared skeptical of the woven yarn.
"What is it that's so hard to believe?" Questioned Micah, slightly returning to the pouty nature that reminded Piper of the day they'd met. "You believed Padasirian pirates were able to traverse as far as our waters!" He accused Emeline, who just shook her head.
"Pirates are one thing, Micah, but you're talking about a hydra."
"Yeah," Laughed Horace, "and besides the fact that one hasn't been spotted in nearly a century, they've never been known to come this far south - their home is up north in the Dractorian Sea."
Micah scanned the faces at the table until his pleading eyes landed on Piper. "C'mon Pipes, I know you can entertain the thought that it's at least possible."
She contemplated the story for a moment, smiling at the nickname she had subtly inherited in the last few days.
"Well, certainly anything is possible." She said at last, taking a bite of apple. Micah beamed.
Emeline still looked uncertain; Horace, dumbfounded. "Surely you can't be serious?" He asked with a laugh.
"Why not?" Shrugged Piper, thinking it over more thoroughly. "Certainly there's no known documentation of a hydra in these waters, but serpents and other draconids have been known to wander further south of the Isles for something as simple as a change of weather." She said. Winnifred, who had been quietly sipping juice next to her, nodded in agreement, her eyes fixated on the table. Seeing as nothing could break through his stubborn nature, Piper changed tacts.
"How about you tell us then, of a tale you've heard of the sea? Certainly you've heard a number by now?"
Horace blinked once or twice, but then as Piper watched, a bit of interest and even excitement began to grow on his face as the gears turned in his head for a story.
"I've been present to glean one or two...now let me think here a minute…" Said Horace, leaning back on the wooden bench of the mess hall and clasping his fingers behind his head.
"What about that one from when you worked the ferry with your Pa?" Asked Micah, popping an orange slice in his mouth.
Horace thought back, searching for the story on the ceiling. "Ah, you mean the Lorelei?" He asked, breaking into a broad grin.
Micah nodded, but Piper looked at him perplexed. "What's a Lorelei?" She asked.
"As my Pa told it, and his Pa before him,," Began Horace, leaning forward and fixing his elbows on the table, "she's a water spirit back from the old days when the Elves ruled farther north into our lands. These were the days when the Dryadalum forest stretched all the way up to the Impheleni Mountains. Many say that she is the embodiment of the upper Magmine river itself, and can either help or hinder travelers depending on the respect and competence they've shown."
"Amazing you've never been drowned, then." Quipped Emeline happily, then asking, before he could snap back, "What's she look like, anyway? Have you ever seen her?"
Horace shook his head slowly. "I haven't myself, but Pa swears on his life that he saw the Lorelei with his own two eyes 'fore I was born, when flood waters of the roat had turned the rapids from treacherous to deadly - he was still a green horned ferryman in those days - and his craft was nearly battered to splinters."
"So, what was it he saw?" Asked Piper, entranced like the others by Horace's ability to captivate an audience.
"I'm getting to that," Said he, clearly amused by their interest, "as he told it, there he was, drenched from head to toe in that downpour - it looked like the whole river was rising up just to plunge him under and never let go. Then it all stopped, like time itself."
He took a moment to recall the exact words.
"'Twas like a trance,'' He began, in a voice mimicking what Piper figured was his father, "the rain stopped fallin' an the waves stopped lappin oer onto the deck. A sudden calm an bright light shone in the figure of a beautiful woman. She spoke to me an caressed my cheeks with both hands - though I don't remember the words, I snapped from the daze an looked round me to see nothin but clear skies an waters fer miles.' That's what Pa said. He still gets a teary look in his eye whenever he tells that tale."
The table was silent in awe until finally, Emeline spoke up in a hushed question.
"And you believe all that?"
"Of course I don't! I'm not so much the fool!" Horace howled in his normal boarish manner, dissipating the mood immediately and evoking groans of disgust.
"An' why exactly would such a belief be foolish? Not to trust yer own Pa when you weren't even there seems more the fool thing to me." Bit Micah in irritation.
Horace regarded him coolly. "I respect my Pa more than any man alive, you'd do well to remember. It is just more practical to trust my head more than my eyes when it comes to such matters."
The others were slightly taken aback by Horace's unnatural shift to seriousness from his usual demeanor, even Emeline dare not quip. "What exactly do you mean?" She asked.
"Just...not everything is how it appears to be. Damn me for it if ya must, but I don't believe in any spirit among the living that would save my Pa just for kicks - and certainly not an elven one. Everything has a price."
He went silent after that, and the air was somber and uncomfortable. Worried that he had spoiled the mood, he passed the buck.
"Piper, you were in the militia 'fore being sent to work under Captain Tartan, weren't you?"
"Yes I had served for a time, why do you ask?" She questioned apprehensively.
"Then you must have a story or two, what with the constant patrols, give us your best." Horace smiled. "I won't take no for an answer - we've all got to do it now!"
She returned the smile, seeing it as his way of apologizing.
Piper flipped through her memories of years past as one would pages of a book, but she could not recall a relevant story; even reminiscing back to her childhood, her memory of such things was blank.
"I don't know if I have anything to share." Piper smiled apologetically.
"Oh come on Pipes, what about something from Regganor? We know you've been north of the border more than once!" Pressed Micah.
"Oh, and who told you that I wonder?" Questioned Piper sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at her bunkmate of whom she had grown accustomed to late night chats with in the recent days.
"Sorry dove," Said Emeline endearingly. "I just thought it was fascinating is all, nobody I know has ever crossed.
Piper sighed. "The militia does it from time to time, just to observe the neutral territory, and usually only when there is word of unrest. Otherwise it is typically pretty boring in the Crescent, so I've nothing to tell."
"I guess it's only a good time when the folks up there are at each others' throats." Horace joked, prompting a couple chuckles.
Piper recalled her last time in the Crescent; climbing into the belfry, gazing down her sights.
The cloud of dust tinted red.
She turned rigid, and shuddered.
"Piper, are you quite alright?" Emeline asked, taking notice of her palor.
"It's nothing, really." She said, shaking the thought from her head. Then, a new thought occuring, she turned to Winnifred.
"Have you any tales to tell, Winnie?"
In truth, Piper was looking for an escape from the curious eyes on her, but she was also curious to find out even a little hint of the life her mild-mannered friend lived prior to their meeting.
"Not really." Said Winnifred meekly. But the grip of curiosity had taken hold, and would refuse to withdraw.
"Come to think of it, we really haven't been properly introduced - where were you transferred from, Winnifred?" Queried Emeline politely.
"Yeah, what drew you to join the Navy?" Horace asked.
Winnifred turned her small wide eyes to each face at the table one at a time, grasping at something to say. Finally, after her inner struggle resolved, she seemed to have grabbed hold of a response.
"I didn't really have anywhere else to go.," She explained, "I used to live in the village of Torgarth, in the 4th Quarter." The last sentence came out in barely more than a whisper.
Piper racked her brain for any remembrance of the frontier town, but could think of none - though the horrors experienced by those unfortunate enough to inhabit the 4th Quarter were known well enough. She gave Winnifred a knowing smile.
"Oh. I understand Winnie." Said Emeline warmly, placing a hand of hers over the girls. "But surely you'll be able to return once we get our leave, I'm sure there's some folks that miss you dearly."
Emeline smiled, but Winnifred pulled her hand away. Piper was shocked to see that there were tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm not...it's not…" Winnie shook her head viciously, struggling not to cry; yet it was not an easy battle to win with so many eyes upon her. She stood and fled from the table.
All went silent. Emeline appeared devastated.
"I...I didn't mean…"
Piper put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"We know you didn't Emmie, but not all of us have families to go home to."
Emeline's eyes widened in shock, trailing after Piper as she slowly rose and left in Winnifred's wake, though her mouth could not find the words to express her thoughts.