Everyone left whatever they were doing and hurried to take a look just as it began to get darker the more they approached the cloud.
Not a cloud…
A storm.
And they barely had time before they would be under its thrall.
Eyes wide like saucers, the crew members ran back as they tried to make preparation for the thing they were about to collide with.
They were late.
There was no saving the cargo or furling the sails in time.
The currents tugged at the ship harder, pulling it faster towards the tempest that was growing in size, blocking the last of the sun rays behind it.
Rashad could never steer it away. He was pulling with all his strength, his teeth gritted, and his vines were bulging out, but it was futile against the might of the sea.
They were all under its mercy by then.
Rain began to rap against the sails and floor, rendering the fabric heavier and making it all but impossible to rush about without one's feet skidding from underneath them.
As the sailer slid about and flopped down while hurrying to fasten this ship to the deck, the boat began to sway dangerously from one side to the other, threatening to spill them into the sea.
The waves rose up gradually, making it all but impossible to even stand still in one place.
They were thrashed about as boxes toppled and barrels rolled around.
" No!" A sailor cried as an especially large one rolled down and went straight to the mast of the ship, colliding with it.
The barrel broke, scattering the fruits within it along the floor.
There was an ominous creaking sound as the mast tipped slightly to the left.
The sailor, tripping over the apples strewn on the ground, rushed to tug at the ropes and prevent it from breaking when he saw the large crack at its base.
Thunder bellowed around them like eruptions in the sky. Lightning struck time and again, narrowly missing the crow nest.
The pillars of the sails shook with the force of the wind, threatening to come apart wasn't it for the sailors fighting to keep them from falling on the ship and breaking it.
The boat continued to dance, almost bounce, over the rising waves of the turbulent sea.
Sindbad, who had joined the sailors trying to keep the mast upright, could only shake in horror at the scene before him.
That too was the might of the sea.
That was its other face.
That was the true terror of the ocean.
Of being helplessly stranded on a slightly large chunk of wood and surrounded by miles upon miles of frothing water.
It made him shiver as it reminded him of how small he was compared to it.
Of how weak and powerless he was before its towering waves.
Of how foolish he was to even think for a moment that he was not under its mercy.
There was no escape.
It was simply rage.
The sea lashed at them from all sides, threatening to swallow them beneath its waves rising like mountains around them.
Even Rashad stood powerless and helpless before such a show of strength.
He realized that while he was convinced there was nothing his crew couldn't deal with, be it ruthless pirates or difficult merchants, there was little they could do other than pray for their lives when they were faced with such a mighty opponent.
While they were struggling among falling boxes, rolling barrels, and against pillars that threatened to flatten them and their ship, they could hardly take notice of such a lean old man who made his way through the deck as he took in the storm that had swallowed and surrounded them, his gait almost undisturbed by the swaying of the ship.
Despite everyone rushing and slipping around him, it seemed that somehow, he managed to always stay a step away from the chaos as he moved around them, as if searching for something, his hair blowing behind him in the wind in all directions.
" This is rage…" he mumbled, eyes so wide they might pop off. " The forces of the elements have turned against us… As if we're sought-out criminals."
He turned around and faced his fellow sailors as he cried out loud. " This is the wrath of the Almighty one! The Almighty had set his sight on this boat! Someone here had angered the Great One!"
The sailors snapped their heads in his direction as he continued to issue his warning. " What's he raving about now out of all times?!" Sindbad grumbled.
Some of them even shushed him for spewing nonsense while they were struggling to save everyone and everything on the ship.
Rashad even told him to get back inside to safety, but the old man was persistent, insisting that those who had angered the Great One ought to be thrown into the sea for their boat to survive.
How was being one person less going to save their ship?
Salah climbed up the mail of ropes and rushed to the highest point to try and find a way out of the tempest, yet to no avail. The rain was so thick it was impossible to see beyond their ship.
As he looked down at the sailors arguing with Nasser, he noted the boxes and barrels still dropping down to the ocean with every lurch the ship made.
" We've lost most of our rations." He informed as he dropped down. His eyes trailed over to Nasser and then the rest of the crew. " One of us must be thrown for the rest to survive."
It wasn't the best of options. Yet, with how little they had left, even if they survived the tempest, they would be fighting among themselves for food for a couple more weeks.
That wasn't something they fancied.
The sailors' resolve swayed as they looked to Nasser, wondering how to choose the one to be thrown out into the sea and sacrificed for all of them.
The man then reached into the folds of his robes and pulled a bundle of sticks, holding them at the men before him.
" We draw lots. Whoever draws the shortest stick is to be thrown."
That sounded fair.
And so, the crew lined up to draw.
One by one, stick by stick, all the long ones had been drawn. Until there was nothing by the short stick held in Nasser's fist.
Sindbad looked at the intimidating stick and gulped. There was no need to draw it. He knew what it was. Everyone did.
But refusing to draw was the same as refusing to accept it, the fate that came with that stick.
So under the looks of every other sailor, he pulled the shortest stick of the lot and stared at it.
Now his fate was sealed.
Now he would thrown off.
" We do it again!" The captain's voice from behind startled him.
The sailors didn't argue, but rather eagerly returned their sticks to Nasser and embarked on it again.
Again, one by one, they drew, until it was Sindbad's turn, and the short stick came in his hand.
Everyone stared at him and the stick in between his fingers.
" Again! As they say, third is set in stone!"
And yet again, Sindbad ended up with the short stick.
There was no arguing it by that point.
He had drawn the same stick thrice.
" We can't throw the kid…" Salah objected when he caught the look in some of their members' eyes.
" We drew… we don't have a choice…"
" Are you suggesting we abandon a child in the sea?!"
" Luck had already given up on him… his fate now belongs to the Almighty and his sea."
Arguments broke around between those who were in favor of Nasser's prophecy and those who thought it absurd.
It was growing into chaos.
The captain refused that notion vehemently as he threw his own stick into the frothing water, ignoring Nasser's cries and warnings, and threatening his crew with his sharp eyes that whoever dared to speak of it again, would be the one fed to the fish.
His crew wouldn't approve of his choice that easily, even if they lacked the voice to say so.
Yet again, he was the captain, he could force his word once in a while.
The ship lurched again, throwing everyone off their feet and almost bucking them into the water along with the cargo.
Nasser, who miraculously was up on his feet before anyone else, opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Rashad's hand squeezing his shoulder made to silence him.
" You go back inside, I'll make sure you stay alive. But I'm not as heartless as to sacrifice a kid for a storm. Take him in, Sin-" The captain broke off as he could not glimpse the silhouette of the small child or his golden eyes amidst them.
" Sindbad? Where is he?"