33 Terrick (1/2)

Terrick screamed heart wrenchingly, peals of gruff and hoarse screeches echoed into the wooden walls of the brig. Of course this was all in his mind, because much like the lifelike illusions that had been plaguing his psyche, he had been allowed to scream his heart out….into a gag that silenced most, if not all, of his screams.

His captors had been polite enough to provide him with a roll of coarsely knitted and repeatedly patched bedding, though he was neither in the right mental faculties nor the correct place, so as to speak, to appreciate their magnanimity.

His face mask had long been ripped off, revealing a healthy brown complexion marred only by a thin scar that ran from his temple to the side of his lip, a thin line of scratches adorned his unnatural scar and a cut lay between his otherwise perfectly sword-shaped eyebrows.

Sea green eyes stared blankly at the rotting wood ceiling as he cursed his fate for the umpteenth time, for though he had been subjected to a very realistic illusion he had been allowed the ability to distinguish between it and reality, albeit barely.

'Damn bastard Alferdo San Juan!! if I find you I swear to god I shall assassinate you balls!! Cock sucking son of an unborn whore! If I don't get revenge for this unwarranted world of pain I shall renounce my surname and marry that wild pig you call a sister! To invite them for a drink he said, drink your sister! Asshole! Fucking…..' and so on were the wildly innovative curses that he had been concocting over the course of his confinement.

A dull chink sounded, piercing sharply through the haze that had been Terrick's pain, a shining hand seemed to lay softly on his shoulder as a soothing voice shook him out of his stupor bringing him back to the dingy halls that made up the dark dungeon he had been confined in.

Slowly he rose, as if a drowning man that had been provided with a wooden log, helplessly he clung onto the life saving noise that had reached out to him. Slowly he felt the illusion clear away from around him, bringing with it a deafening impact from the things that surrounded him.

Relief instantly washed over him as he began to lose consciousness, a soft smile of relief hung on his lips as he slowly fainted, he had been saved.

Sorren looked on, concern vibrantly shining on his miraculously smooth and round face, the pale moonlight reflected from his dimpled cheeks as he looked at the captive.

Over the first few hours he had debated his line of action, at the beginning he had opted to ignore the matter entirely in favor of the more unconventional fish broth that had been left over from his mid-snack snack.

He had been raised on a sea 'hospital' of sorts and had grown up to tales of the brutish and savage pirates that roamed the seas, but still, if he was going to be a pirate, then he would become like his father, as noble of a pirate as could be possible.

A small smile slowly rose onto his face as he looked at the passed out man, he looked to be not over than the age of eighteen, judging by the stubs of a beard that had only begun to sprout and the still boyish smile he seemed to wear.