The Heart of a Captain

The lanterns heat could not reach the chill Fynn felt in his heart.
 
Even as he sat sharing a bottle of rum with his first mate Chance, the closest thing to a father he had known, and no amount of rum was warming his gut. Fynn was still beside himself knowing Chance lived. The Hadozee was near his hundredth name day, his reddish fur had greyed heavily since Fynn had last seen him and the deep winkles in his face showed the years plainly. The light in his gold amber eyes twinkled with life. Fynn smiled a bit and understood more now, how much time Chance had spent out in the astral sea.
 
Watching Chance sip his cup deftly telling a tale, Fynn looked past him and at the room around them. It was sparce still in the captains’ quarters, personal effects and the basic furniture was all that was acquired. The table they sat at in the center of the room needed more chairs…for his officers. Where his thoughts darkened. You wanted to be a pirate…a criminal. If you get uneasy about some smuggling maybe you don’t have it… you know what you are. Fynn didn’t hear that last bit of Chance’s take on the ship and its many needs, before he noticed Fynn’s distant look.
 
“Sometin’ wrong Cappin’? Ye lookin’ a bit lost at sea.”
 
“Chance, please call me Fynn. We’re just sittin’ here havin’ a drink, no need fer that. I feel bad enough about the end of the night. I gotta say something to MarV and apologize. I don’t know what got into me. Is this what trying to lead is like? To the locker with it…I’m a gods-damned fool, Chance. That pretty thing we took aboard from Liza’s… Corinna. This Prince Cazor is after her. I thought I was doing her a favor bringing her aboard.”
 
Fynn stopped, sighed with regret, and quickly drained the rum left in his glass, sucking his teeth as the sweet burn trailed down his throat. He searched for answers he knew weren’t there.
 
“Then we’re out on the town while Corinna’s with us. Some vampires workin’ for that Dango ambush us… they saw all our faces, Chance. And the pile a’ goo responsible pointed the blame everywhere but at himself… I need to ask him what happened to the crew he was with, or if he even had one.” Fynn rubbed his forehead worried about MarV and his lack of worry.
 
“I just wanted to get the ship running and find a job. Sure, maybe smuggle because we wanted to, not because we were forced to. The ‘wine’ we’ve got coming better be fuckin’ wine… and that orange fuck can’t even show any remorse…if any of the crew die…”
 
Fynn stared into his empty glass.
 
“That’s on me.”
 
The question that followed came quieter.
 
“How did Mom do this? How did she lead…how can I hope to lead like her?”
 
Chance regarded Fynn for a while he took a long swig of rum before he set his glass down and looked at Fynn with a seriousness Fynn fondly remembered then.
 
“You won’t lad. You can’t lead like she did n’ the more you try, the more you’ll fail.” Setting his cup aside and leaning in.
 
“One day it’s all gonna fit. In time, you’ll find yer way. Ori’s first voyage wasn’t smooth. It was before my time with her, but she said it was fraught with troubles… rife with strife she would say. Don’t run aground, the wind aint changing yet, m’boy. Keep doing what you been doin’, prove to them what you are.” Chance leaned in as he spoke, he emptied his pipe and puffed on it to let his words land.
 
Fynn hoped there was truth to his words, finding his way was a skill he had as he regarded Chance, trying to hide the sorrow on his own face hoping he wouldn’t see. Fynn closed his eyes and saw his mother, withered and weak. Dying in his arms. He opened his eyes, and a tear fell. Chance took him in and his eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards Fynn.
 
“Now you listen here, Son. Smooth seas don’t make good sailors, y’know that as well as I. Errything in life is a test, from small to big. Our troubles and burdens test us. The plasmoid is a mess, don’t give up on em. We will sort out the mess with Dango. You are already on yer way me lad. Making hard choices, helping others and worrying about it all and all of them. You remind me of yer mom, Cappin’ n’ that’s true.”
Chance drained the last drops of rum from the bottle into each of their cups and smiled his large, toothed smile, long canines bared. His large lips curled and the wrinkles compounded. Fynn resisted as long as he could, but the corners of his mouth went up as he fought a grin. Fynn wiped the tear stains away and raised his glass, Chance raised his and they toasted and taped the glass on the table and downed the last of their spirits.
 
“To finding old family, to the crew and to chasing the stars.” The two spoke in turn. Drinking their fill. Fynn felt his head lighten and knew once he stood up, he would feel far drunker than he currently did.
The Captain and his First Mate enjoyed an evening catching up and telling stories. Fynn savored a familiar face and as little as he spent on dry land, having some anchor tethering him down shed some weight from his shoulders. After a few hours and some sobering the revelry calmed.
 
“You should get some sleep you old goat. You did well with the crew, and it’s still…you survived…fuckin’ sea turtles.”
 
“Aye, lad aye. Fuckin’ sea turtles. G’night, Captain, the stars are yours.”
 
Fynn watched as Chance left and closed the door behind him as Fynn slightly shook his head grining. Leaving Fynn to his thoughts, he wanted to think of Corinna sweetly, but when he did, he only worried for her. He thought about a brothel and how he wouldn’t have gone if she were with him. What is happening to me? I would’ve only wanted some…information. He swore he knew what love did to people. Knew how it ripped people apart and got them killed. He didn’t want to do that to anyone. Fynn’s nose and lip curled as he fought back his distaste and fear. Then he remembered the ship’s voice. Fynn realized it slowly, the ship was a thing a, a being. He remembered Xix’s words, about it being young and…afraid. It was from something old… He looked at the room in a new light; his fear and anger faded as a small sad smile took hold.
 
“You aren’t the only one that’s afraid Razorleaf. You’re not alone at all anymore. I will look after you.”
 
He waited, half expecting the ship to respond to him in some way.
 
“They would think me mad if they heard that.” Fynn took a deep breath and stood.
 
To the crew the time was felt and the hours passed, Fynn barely noticed and when they slept, he went to the deck to look out over the city. There he stood leaning against the railing, lost in thought near motionless. The noise of the city ambled on still even in the late hours, Fynn watched folk pass by near and far. Workers in the dry docks came and went as night carried on, sounds of labor and the occasional shout cut through the relative quiet of the dry docks. He watched rats and cats as they mingled about the small nooks of warehouse walls and shop stalls.
I got Songbird and Armitage on board. I need to find a way to appeal to MarV.
 
Fynn spent a few hours watching out over the city before walking across the ship. After a patrol above deck, he returned to the door to his quarters’ turning back to the main mast and at the crew below deck. Imagining them all resting after revels and the promise of work and adventure.
 
“I should’ve had a better speech ready...” he chagrined as he opened the door and entered to rest for the day. And what a day it was.