TW// Violence, murder, blood

It wasn’t just two days; Elias was certain of that. The door to the cabin opened after three days. It was Kian who unlocked it and when he saw Elias sitting their eyes fixed on him, he hesitated for a moment.

“Captain ordered to take ya to Gerold.” he said after a minute. “He will teach ya how to fight.”

Elias got on his feet and let the man take him to Gerold.

It was midday and the sun was scorching hot, the heat radiating off the black wood. The man, Elias presumed to be Gerold, was standing by the railing of the ship, holding two swords in his hands.

“Here’s the kid.” Said Kian and turned away to return to his duties.

Gerold spun around and smiled at Elias. “Captain told me to teach ya how to fight.” His light blue eye glittered in the sun, the other was covered with a black patch. “What’s yer name?”

Elias scanned him from his feet up to his head. He wore long black boots and loose beige pants, fastened to his waist with a big belt. On the belt were fastened four little knives and a pistol. His long white sleeve shirt was tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His long brown hair was put up in a messy bun.

Elias didn’t answer him.

“Mute, are we?” Again, Elias just stared at him. “No worries.” He turned the handle of one of his swords to Elias.

Elias looked at the sword. His stomach twisted at the recognition. It was a sword that his father made. They must’ve raided the forge back at Parahill.

Gerold nudged the sword towards him. “Come on.”

Elias hesitated but still took the weapon. Gerold gripped his sword and smiled. “Show me what ya got.”

Elias didn’t lie when he told Sabur he didn’t know how to wield a sword. Mother and father only taught him how to use little knives and daggers. A sword was much different, much heavier than knives. Father never even allowed him to hold swords.

And it showed.

Gerold wasn’t per say ruthless with Elias, but he wasn’t holding back either. The fact that Gerold wielded a real sword towards him, also didn’t help. He sliced Elias across his arms multiple times. Blood trailed down his hand, droplets of the red liquid sizzling on the hot black wood.

Elias’ head was spinning. He hadn’t had a sip of water in days and the blasting heat made matters worse. He could barely keep his eyes ajar and focused. His body trembled with pain and exhaustion, yet every time Gerold’s sword met his skin, he only let out a weak yelp, not allowing himself to show Gerold his agony.

“Eyes on me, kid!” Elias struggled to look up at his blue eye. “Never let yer eyes off the opponent.”

He swung his sword at him and cut Elias deep across the arm. Elias dropped his sword and held the wound, fresh blood already seeping through his fingers. He bit down his lower lip, not letting a cry escape his mouth.

Gerold picked up Elias’ sword. “Enough for today.” He turned around. “There’s water down the Orlop. Clean yer wounds and then go to Theo. He will get ya something to eat.”

At first, Elias stood still and just watched him. Then he silently turned around and walked to the stairs leading down the ship. As soon as he disappeared under, he ran towards the Orlop. There he picked a bucket and filled it with water. He sat down in the corner behind barrels and first took a few big gulps of water. His quaking hands could barely hold up the bucket.

When he quenched his thirst, he placed it down and ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt. He soaked it in the water and placed it on the wounds. Elias struggled to suppress a cry. It stung so much. Tears started gathering in the corners of his eyes and he let them fall. He was alone here, he would allow himself to be vulnerable when he was alone.

Most of the wounds were just scratches that would heal by themselves in a few days. The last one Garold inflicted was deeper and it hurt too much to even clean it.

“Do you need help with that?”

Elias almost jumped when a man wearing a kerchief on his head walked behind the barrel. Elias hastily wiped away his tears. As he wanted to nod dismissively, he accidentally placed the wet cloth on the wound. His body violently convulsed with pain.

“Careful.” Said the man and crouched down. “It’ll need to be stitched.” He reached into a pocket on his shirt and pulled out a needle and threat. He nodded towards Elias’ wound. “May I?”

Elias only watched him, contemplating whether he should let the men help him. Again, the pangs spread through his body, and he quickly nodded to him.

The man sat beside him and pulled out a match. Elias’ eyes widened and he was about to get on his feet and flee.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. This is just for the needle.” He lit up the match and held it under the needle. Then he blew it out. “See.”

Elias relaxed only slightly.

“Now this is going to hurt a bit.”

He carefully touched Elias’ arm and pressed the needle through his skin. Elias kept himself from flinching this time. He jerked away, but the man held him firmly in his grip.

“It’ll hurt for just a minute and then it’ll be okay.”

Elias closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. After some time, Elias could better tolerate the pain and ceased straining at least some muscles. While the man was sewing up the wound he spoke.

“I’m Nick. I’m the one who sails the ship.” Elias remained silent, but he did listen, focusing his gaze on a tattoo on Nick’s forearm. “Don’t worry. Gerold wouldn’t kill you. He’s the greatest swordsman on this ship, if you let him teach you, you can become just as great if not even better than most of the men here.”

Nick finished his last stitch and then reached into another pocket, pulling out a cloth. He wrapped it around Elias’ arm.

“Here. This should do for now. Do you know where Theo is?” Elias shook his head. “He’s in the galley. Would you like me to show it to you?” Elias moved his head in disagreement once again, eyes fixed on Nick. “Okay. If you need anything, tell me.”

Nick put the needle in his pocket, stood up and left Elias. Elias watched him leave, reaching his hand to the now bandaged arm.