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1st Day in the 1st of Delód’s Months, Rainy Season, in the First Year of King Feyaz’s Reign, 127th Reckoned Year

The Vánüm language, or the Elder Tongue: Núl, sometimes stylized as Nul or Null, definition: disharmony, unbalance, or disunity

From ‘Captain's Log’ of the Painful Lady, written by Captain Chapel in the 120th Reckoned Year

A steady wind has been blowing for the past few hours, as if the Dead Ships sought to expel the Lady from their waters. Gray clouds have been building on the horizon ahead, tumbling over top of each other in eager anticipation of spilling their long-held rain. Petsune and The Big Man are sitting around the crate typically used to play Runny. The crew has been quieter since they met with the Hollow Tree, but Petsune doesn’t think the mood is sad or wary, just respectful.

“You know what I mean, Pet?” The Big Man says.

Petsune returns his wandering mind to the conversation. “I’m so sorry, Benafield. I’m afraid I got lost in my thoughts.”

“Hah, that is okay. I could see it in your eyes.”

“What were you saying?” Petsune asks.

“I was saying that the Hollow Trees make me uneasy.” The Big Man says, looking deep into the grains of wood in the crate.

“I agree… they are very strange. They seem to know too much.” Petsune muses.

“Aye, that’s it. They know too much. I don’t like it.”

Petsune thinks for a moment before responding. He is always careful to broach the subject of the divine with Benafield. Cautiously he begins, “I think… I think perhaps that is a healthy attitude to have. According to the, um, legend, it told me, Hollow Trees came from the Thünadín – the deepfoot and were given divine wisdom. To me it makes sense to be made uncomfortable in the face of something divine, because it isn’t of any familiar mold — it is… other. Does that make sense?”

Benafield doesn’t respond right away, instead gazing out over the clear, flat ocean around them. When he speaks, he sounds quieter than usual, as though he is speaking to himself. “It makes sense, aye. And I think you are right…”

“But?” Petsune prods lightly.

“It’s not only discomfort of the divine,” The Big Man says, “I do not wish to offend, Pet. It is hard to talk of these things to you, because you are a priest, and I trust you. I like you. But I do not trust most.”

“I understand,” Petsune says softly, “I have been hurt by the churches as well, it’s part of why I was excommunicated by the Sanctum and eventually asked to leave the Order. It has taken a long time for me to see past that hurt.”

“How did you manage it? Because I have heard and seen the voice and hands of the church do terrible things, all in the name of their Saint. And I don’t know how to move past it.”

“For me, I learned to lean on the words of the Saints rather than the words of people. I don’t know what will work for you. I wish I did.” Petsune says, regretfully.

Benafield looks just the slightest bit sheepish, then he looks away and speaks. “And what if the words of the Saints hurt too?”

Petsune bends his smile into a forlorn shape, and he answers. “Then… well, then I pray to understand them…” The Big Man gazes out at the water and points off to the encroaching wall of storm clouds. “Rains are coming. We’d best be heading inside.”

The Big Man rises but Petsune raises a hand to stall him, “Wait, I was actually hoping to see the rain come in. I have never seen the rains from open sea.”

“Oh, aye? Suppose you’ve not. Well, I will stay with you ‘till you go below decks.” Benafield says, sitting back down.

The General appears then and tries to warn them inside. “Tut-tut, my friends. Best be heading inside, the rains will be here within the hour, I should say.”

“Aye, we see them,” Benafield notes, “but Pet here wishes to see the rains come in.”

Petsune nods, but Tarlatan appears baffled. “Good grief, whatever for? If you want to get wet, why not just hop overboard.”

“I’ve lived my entire life on Thune Mass,” Petsune explains, “so this is my first chance to see the rains on the open sea.”

The General considers the notion. “Mmm, I see. Well, perhaps I’ll join you then, if you’ll have me. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Hah,” The Big Man rumbles, “‘course we’ll have you, General.”

“You may even be able to add some insight to our conversation, General.” Petsune says.

“Oh? Mmm, I’m not sure how much insight this old man has left, but I’d be happy to try.”

The General takes a seat on the empty barrel at the Runny table. Petsune looks at him and is glad to see that he seems to be doing better. The General is the first to speak. “So, what are we talking about, men?”

Petsune doesn’t wish to set the topic to words, so he allows the Big Man to respond. “We were talking of the church and the hurt it has done us both — something you might relate to, General.”

“Mmm, I see,” The General says quietly, “It’s not an easy thing to face condemnation from someone claiming to be backed by the Saints.”

“Aye,” the Big Man agrees, “it is not.”

Petsune decides that it may be wiser to allow space for these two to talk, rather than pushing the conversation somewhere. He listens contentedly, staring out at the gray clouds and the wall of hazy rain below them. The General’s face is thoughtful as he speaks. “Benafield, have you thought at all of the Hollow Tree’s story for you?”

“Not much, why?”

“Mmm, well,” Tarlatan muses, “they always tell particularly pointed stories, aimed right at their target. And this one was aimed at you. It may have been about this very thing.”

Both Petsune and The Big Man consider this thought, and Benafield responds, “Aye, it may. The young painter need only ignore those that criticize his work, just as I need only ignore those priests in the Sanctum.”

The General casts an askance glance at Petsune, but continues the conversation, “Indeed. The Hollow Trees have a way of knowing things. Doesn’t feel proper, but there it is. Perhaps it saw your internal conflict with the words of these True Souls?”

“Aye, they do have a strange way of knowing…” The Big Man says.

Tar and Benafield both stare off toward the storm front, and Petsune decides to add to the conversation. “I think that’s part of it, but I also think it goes deeper than that.”

“Aye?”

“Do go on, Pet,” The General says, waving a hand casually his way, “you’ve proven wiser than me, I should think.”

Petsune says a quick prayer to the Saints that his words aren’t misunderstood and that he can convey his intentions. “I think you’re right, we should all ignore the hateful things people do in the name of the Saints, or even more than that — we should condemn them. It’s—”

“Yeah, It ain’t right when priests are mean. They’s supposed to be all love-y all the time.”

The Big Man, General Tar, and Pet all look up in surprise. Sprig’s youthful face and messy hair are poking out from between the railings of the quarterdeck. The General is the first to react. “You ought to be below decks, Sprig. The rains are coming.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sprig says casually. He looks up at the storm wall, much closer now, then looks back down at Pet. “So, you’re like a devil-worshiper or somethin’? You worship death? That’s how’s I heard it.”

The General again reacts first. “Sprig! You of all people ought to know—”

“No, no. It’s alright. Children have a way of speaking plainly that we could all perhaps learn from.” Petsune smiles at Sprig, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. Petsune changes focal points as he speaks, looking at each of them individually, though he directs the conversation at Sprig. “I can’t say for certain, as I’ve never actually been to Coldor. But the way I understand it is not a worship of death, but a respect of it. An understanding that all things must end.”

“Still seems weird.” Sprig chimes in.

Petsune looks back up to his snaggle-toothed grin and says, “Think about it, Sprig. Everything ends. If it didn’t, then there would be no change or growth or anything. An ending is a symbol of completion and wholeness, and without one, things would likely go poorly.”

“… what?” Sprig says with a quizzical look.

Petsune is about to try and explain again, but The Big Man speaks before him. “Aye, that is well said, Pet. But there are those things that are ended abruptly — incomplete because of the ending. Would you not agree?”

The General murmurs in assent, and Petsune agrees as well. “You’re right. And I don’t know why this is, but I know that it is so. I do not have an answer, but I believe in the goodness and wisdom of the Saints and that all things are in their control. For me, that is more comforting and convincing than the possibility that some things are beyond their reach. But you’re right, Benafield. And I do not have an answer as to why some things are brought to an early end. I wish to the Saints that I did.”

Sprig breaks the silence with another leap in subject. “I miss Harlan…”

Petsune responds without really thinking. “I’m surprised to hear you say that,” then realizing what he’s said, he hastily adds, “I don’t mean because, well, I just meant — I’m surprised since you always said he was no fun.”

The General makes a sort of harumph noise, and The Big Man laughs lightly. Sprig responds without seeming hurt by Petsune’s words. “Yeah, he weren’t no fun. But he made it more fun to steal stuff ‘cause he were so keen-eyed. He always seen me somehow. Made it funner.”

The group goes quiet at Sprig’s words, and Petsune is again reminded of the immoral habits the crew is fostering in the boy. In the vacancy of conversation, a faint sound can be heard in the distance. They all hear it and look to the advancing wall of storm clouds and rain. It is a faint drone, light in pitch but unvarying and constant. The Big Man gazes out fondly. “Reminds me of the Great Unpass in the north of the Keep. The cliff face is so vast and tall there that the clouds cover the top. Aye, some have taken to calling it the Stone Storm Wall.”

The General looks at Benafield. “Do you ever miss it, lad? Your home.”

“Aye, at times. I do miss the feeling of rock beneath my feet,” The Big Man says, “but when I left Broadfell, it was a hostile place to be.”

The General looks intrigued. “Mmm, oh? How’s that? Seems rather a calm place.”

The Big Man nods. “From outside, aye, it does seem calm. The Great Schism has been boiling there for many generations now though. There is much fighting between the Tör and the Sanctum.”

The storm wall to the south flashes and grows closer. The pelting of rain against the surface of the ocean is a soothing sound from afar, but it is quickly becoming louder. Petsune thinks of Harlan and the Fāy-Núl Tör, pondering the words he said. “sometimes the most effective way to eliminate an enemy is not to cause pain or suffering, but to give them what they want most.”

Petsune becomes lost in his thoughts, as he often does, and misses the General asking something of Benafield. The deep Fellbin voice draws Petsune back in. “No, it is not something many know. Fellpost HelBenledore does try to hide the division, but it is there. He has tried to stamp it out for years, but it has only gotten worse. There was—”

“Here it comes!” Sprig cuts in. Petsune looks up and the storm wall is nearly upon them. A rushing line of splashing water extends as far as the eye can see. The once serene vista of motionless ocean is supplanted by a cascading downpour of water. It rolls over The Painful Lady in a roar, immediately drenching everything in the deluge. After a few moments, General Tar calls out loudly through the haze. “Right, we best be inside then!”

They move quickly to the Captain's cabin, but Petsune pauses to gaze back out into the torrential rains. He can see the ocean become restless and begin to roil up in waves and swells, the peaceful place of the Straits giving way to the frantic rains. Once inside, the noise grows infinitely louder, an almost deafening roar against the wooden planks above their heads. Sprig is met with two bundles of careening fur that proceed to lap the water off his dripping wet face. Inside the cabin, Chapel is sitting at his desk amid delicately floating feathers; Shushilah is gazing at the map on the wall; Pickett is seated in a corner with a large stack of thick tomes, his nose buried in one of them; Bor is mixing some type of cold dish with coin-cut padada slices on top; and Sprig’s bird is contentedly cooing in the rafters.

Petsune brushes off his Deepblood robes, which he recently converted into a more sea-worthy outfit. He girded the large open bottom into two leg holes, then hemmed it into loose capris, then he cut the baggy sleeves off, and added sewn in half-sleeves that were much tighter. He looks more like crew now than ever, and whenever he sees his reflection in the water, he briefly pauses in confusion. As he wipes the water from his altered Deepblood habit, he sees Chapel rise from his down covered chair and stand on the desk to shoo away Sprig’s bird. Chapel makes shooing motions toward the bird, and it flies over toward the upside-down bucket attached to the ceiling. Chapel dismounts the desk and Petsune watches the Captain climb the same shelf that fell last time. Petsune calls out, “Chapel, wait! That shelf isn’t—” but it gives out and the Captain ends up on the floor of the cabin amid guffaws and hollers from most of the crew. Sprig’s bird attempts to land neatly on Chapel’s head but doesn’t care for the moving target. The bird flies off to land in his recently vacated, and thereby warmed, chair.

Petsune approaches and gives Chapel a hand, stifling laughs rather poorly. That is until he sees a worn leather parcel amid the debris of the broken shelf. Petsune points to it. “What’s that?”

The Captain dusts himself off and grabs the leather bundle. Most of the crew have stopped laughing, instead becoming intrigued by the satchel. When Chapel opens it, Petsune sees his eyes go very wide. “What? What is it?” Petsune asks, concern creeping into his voice. Chapel carefully closes the satchel and hands it over to Petsune, again displaying that new attitude of reverence he had on earlier. Petsune hesitantly takes the leather bag and opens it as Chapel speaks. “You asked if this ship had any more secrets — looks like we just found one.”

Petsune sees what is inside, but he is confused at the significance. As he begins to understand, however, he looks up at Chapel with a teary-eyed expression of wonder.

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