"
- 53rd of Ashan, 716 Arc
The boat rocked uneasily beneath the two figures, the red headed one running quite thin on patience. She sighed quietly, staring at the deep set and confused frown her coworker seemed to be wearing. The man tugged at his wispy beard, "I just dunno, Miss."
Hera wanted to scream, "What." The word came out sharper than she intended. She took a minute and softened her question, 'What is bothering you, Henry?" The two had been leaning over a map for some time now, and more than once the Biqaj had explained the rules of what she was doing and why. For some reason, it just didn't stick with the simple man. Not often did she find herself thinking herself better than men who worked the sea, but there seemed to be quite a difference in intellect. It was blaringly obvious. How he kept his ship afloat was far beyond her interests. As soon as she finished this job and made it back to land, the better. The cabin smelled awful, and the waters were uneasy. Syhera's own circumstances could relate.
The captain of the boat continued to pull at his facial hair, "How'r the stars... How'r they gonna tell you where to go? Sounds like hocus pocus to me. Biqaj black magic." If he noticed Hera's outrage, he ignored it, pointing stupidly to the map, "Where'r we?"
She took another deep breath, her words through gritted teeth, "We should be around here. I'll have a more exact location when the stars come out."
"Whata if ther'a no stars?" Hatred flashed in her eyes, but she kept a straight expression, staring at the lantern that burned to her right. Henry glanced at her suspiciously, and she had enough. She wanted to scream a thousand things!
How do you run this ship? Have you ever navigated? Do you know anything about seafaring? Are you simple?
"There will be."
Hera snatched the compass that was holding down a corner of the map, coordinates, and stomped a few feet away. This man was an idiot. For someone who worked with her race quite a bit, he was ignorant. Ignorance was worse that stupidity, and she ignored his calls to her, shoving open the doors and heading for the deck. Down the hallway, she squeezed past a burly woman with no teeth, and another with one too many. They were both human, and dressed in near rags. They carried sacks of potatoes and buckets of water. She assumed they were cooks of some kind? Their hands were grimy, but they nodded at her politely, and the Biqaj reached her destination, taking in the fresh, sea air. Land was gone, and she was in her element. Where she was supposed to be.
She made her way towards the center of the ship, a few sailors turning their head to glance at her. Lowering herself to the deck, she resituated the map and compass, leaning her head back to look at the sky. Dusk would be falling shortly, and then night. She made a note on the map where they were going, and their coordinates from the night before. If she had been correct and they hadn't strayed from their course, they should be... Her fingers noted the grid lines on the parchment, lining her compass up with them. Rotating the bekel, the circular metal piece caught the last remains of sunlight. It took her a moment to get the notches lined up and began to twist her body. Her hands wavered slightly, keeping the compass as level as possible and when the arrows aligned, she looked up.
"Now that I know where I'm going... where are we?"
To say that Hera didn't trust the captain would be an understatement. She found him incompetent. Settling into her spot, she huffed out a sharp exhale and waited for night to fall.
