Author’s Notes: Two chapters in one day...starting to spoil you, huh?  *^_~* Actually, I’m hoping people are still interested in the story.  I own all the characters, plotline, etc…don’t use any without my permission…blah…blah…blah…

Oh!  Before I forget!  I’ve got a new web page starting up (at the moment it’s pretty empty) and I’m looking for original stories to be posted in there.  The URL is easy to remember:  www.dragonandthephoenix.com Please, if you write original stories and would be kind enough to let me put them up, check out the site!  I only have my work and the beginning of one other persons stuff.  PLEASE GO LOOK!  Thanx!

~*~Children of a Dying Sun: Chapter 3: Eight Miles to No Where~*~

“Fish!  Get fresh fish!  Right here!  Excellent price!”  A man cries from the harbor.  Phoenix shades her eyes, standing ahead of me, looking down the harbor.

“Sir!  Fine Sir!  Would you like some loose jewels?  I’m sure your girlfriend would love some.”  A woman asks me.  She is fooled by the clothes.  Phoenix forced me to wear them.

“They’ll help us around.  People with fine clothes usually mean money and power.”  She had said, “It will help us find a lift.”

But now, she wears her new clothes too, as she scans the harbor.  She has never seen the ocean, at least, not in her memory.  I shake my head at the merchant and approach Phoenix.

“What do you think?” I ask, startling her.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”  She mutters, “I just wish I could see the ocean.  There’s too many boats to see it here.”

“Trust me,”  I place a hand on her shoulder, “If we get a lift out of here, you’ll see so much ocean, you’ll be sick of it.”

She spares only a half smile, “IF.”  She repeats the one word, “But what ship?  And why are we leaving this country in the first place?”  She doesn’t look at me as she asks.

I reach up and grasp the pentagram charm, which now hangs from my neck, “I don’t think we’re in the right place anymore.  We need to go somewhere East of here.”

Phoenix turns and gives me an odd look and a smile.

“Another vision?”  She asks

But I can barely hear her anymore.  I have looked at the pentagram too long.  The image of the spinning star appears again.  Beneath it, there is an ocean of black water.  A great boat appears, rushing towards me.  Now I’m standing on the deck.

A hand touches my shoulder.  Phoenix says my name.  I shake my head to clear it, but when I open my eyes again, the ship doesn’t disappear.  Phoenix says my name again.

“There it is!”  I say, catching her off guard.  I point down to a dock, quite a ways away.  The ship is large—it takes up the space of two normal-sized ships—with masts that must go up 7 stories.  Beside me, Phoenix whistles.

“That one?”  She asks, “Look at the shield on the sail.  Black Dragon.  Are you sure?”

I nod, taking in the shield’s design.  It’s blood red.  There’s a black dragon wrapped around a blade of a sword.

The Black Dragons are notorious for the ways they wheel and deal.  If you break it, you’re dead.  If you overprice or underpay, you’re dead.  If they don’t like the way you look at them, you’re…well…dead.  But the Black Dragons have a weakness.

If you wield a sword, your more than welcome.  They’re the largest group in Karmana to carry metal-bladed swords.  It’s not rare to find Black Dragons carrying both metal and beam swords.  So we have an advantage.

Phoenix bought a beam sword last night from a black-market dealer.  She wears in now on a band around her arm.  I look at her, she’s biting her lip.

“Come on,”  I say, taking hold of the hilt of Blade, “What do we have to lose?”

As I move forward, I hear Phoenix mutter, “You mean, besides our lives?”

I smile a little.

~~@~~

“’an we ‘elp you?”  A tall, lanky man asks.  He is wearing tan pants and no shirt; and is leaning against a pole on the dock next to the ship.

“We seek passage.”  I say.

The man raises an eyebrow, “’nd where ‘ight that be to?”

Phoenix takes hold of my arm.  I can sense her fear.

“Where ever this Black Dragon sails next.”  I reply.  I brush my hand out, so he can see my sword, which has been hidden beneath my cloak.

The man straightens, “Wait ‘ere.”  He heads up the wooden ramp to the top deck.

Phoenix forcefully pulls my arm, and turns me to look at her.

“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?!?  You’re gonna kill both of us.”  She growls, her eyes flashing dangerously.

I only stare at her a minute before two pairs of footsteps make their way down the ramp.

“You lookin’ for a ride?”  I turn to look at the owner of the voice.  It’s a heavily-set, full-blooded Karmanan woman.  She has shoulder-length, mouse-y brown hair and beady brown eyes.

“Yes.  We wish to sail with you.”  I answer.

“What ye’ have for pay?  Ye’ can’t come jus’ expectin’ to get a ride.”  The woman crosses her arms across her chest.

“We don’t have much.”  I reply, then reach under my cloak, and draw my sword, ‘But we got this.”  I show her my sword.

“And this.”  Surprisingly, Phoenix turns on her beam sword.

The Karmanan looks surprised.  Then she turns to the man next to her, “Check ‘em.”

The man takes my sword, weighing it, “It’s old.  And real.”  He looks at the woman, “Never seen a blade like it.”

“And hers?”

He takes Phoenix’s, “New.  No codes to it.  Probably bought off some black-market dealer.”

For a moment, the woman is still.  Suddenly, she smiles, “Welcome, newcomers!”  She spreads her arms, “I am Madame Consigea.  Come aboard, come aboard.”  She gestures to the ship before she begins to ascend the plank.

She thinks I don’t notice when she doesn’t return our weapons.

~~@~~

“Forgive us for the mess.”  Consigea says, side-stepping a large wooden cargo box.  “This is my quarters.”  She opens a door and descends down a small flight of stairs into a dark room

Cautiously, Phoenix follows her, ahead of me.

Lights come on as Consigea takes a seat behind a beautifully carved wood desk.  She offers for us to sit in chairs resting against the wall by the door.

I shake my head, but Phoenix takes a seat.

“You came just in time.  I’m charting the route just now.”  There’s a paper map unrolled on the desk, sides held down by glass paper-weights.  From where I stand I can see a thin red line trailing a little over half ways across the ocean, Simar.

There’s an ‘X’ where they must have been planning to dock.

“So ye say ye’ll go where ever we dock?”  The woman settles back into the chair, using one finger on her right hand to trace the course plotted out already, “We going to end up here, then we return.”  Her nail taps the X and the noise echoes off the silent room, “Orlan.  Ever been there?”

“Never had the need to.” I say, “We just want a trip across, not a lot of questions asked.”

“Aye.”  She arches an eyebrow, watching us for a moment, then leans forward, “I’ll grant ye passage.  Jus’ don’t get in my crew’s way.”

Phoenix talks now, “We won’t.  And we thank you.”  She’s nervous, unsure of what to do.

“I’ll have my men get a cabin for ye.  Ye mind sharin’?  There’ll be two bunks.”

“Fine.”  I don’t like this Consigea woman.

She nods, “Be gone with ye.  One of my crew will search ye out.  We leave with the tide.”

As Phoenix and I step out of the cabin, she inhales deeply, as if she has been without air, “I thought she was going to kill us.”  She whispers.

As I look at the crew, I say, “We haven’t reached Orlan yet.”

Phoenix looks startled.  I’m not surprised.

~~@~~

Tide came an hour later, so did our cabin.  Another hour later, and we were too far from land to see it anymore.

After retrieving a bottle of water from the mess hall, I retreated back to our cabin.  It’s small, but I don’t really mind.  There are two bunks and a desk with one chair.  The room is other wise empty.  Phoenix is laying on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling, as I enter.  As I sink down onto my bunk, peeling off my shirt, Phoenix hangs her head over the side.

“You feeling okay?”  She asks, “You look a little pale.”

“Sailing has never been my best friend,” I wave my hand at her as I lie back, “I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“’Kay.”  Her head disappears from my sight for a moment before she rolls off her bunk, “I’m gonna take a walk on dock.  You should sleep.”

I nod, “Just be careful.”

She shuts the door gently behind her.

~~@~~

I awake, hours later, to the gentle groan of the ship-and nearly fall off my bunk.  I catch myself and roll away from the edge.  Phoenix is still gone.

I raise myself.  How much time has past?  It’s impossible to tell from the cabin.  The dress shirt I had been wearing is laying in a ball on the floor.  My other shirt is hung neatly over the wooden desk chair.  Thanks, Phoenix I think reaching for the shirt and slip it over my head.

I stand, subconsciously going for Blade, where it should have been on my waist.

My hand merely clenches into a fist.  I remember now that it’s gone.  The ship shifts again.

Find Phoenix.  Part of my brain tells me.  But another part contradicts that, She’s a big girl.  She can handle herself.  I open the cabin door and slip into the dimly lit hallway.

~~@~~

I’ve slept for a long time.  Both suns have set, and stars twinkle in the brisk night air.  I stare for a long moment at them, wondering how long the night has left.

And where Phoenix is.

~~@~~

There’s the sound of laughter from the upper-deck.  I turn and walk away from it, and find a dark side, where no noise is audible.  I lean against the rail, facing the dark ocean.  My right hand reaches up and takes hold of the pentagram.

I stare at it, but nausea sets in and I close my eyes.  Big mistake.  I see the pentagram, it’s spinning in the gray space.  There’s someone a little way to my right.

Phoenix. I think.  I open my eyes.

“Where do you think we are?”  I say.

It isn’t Phoenix who answers.

“I’d say about eight miles from no where.”  It’s a masculine voice.

I turn sharply.

~~@~~

Tall.  First word that comes to mind.  I have to take a step back.  The man is incredibly built.  And TALL.

He has black hair which hangs to about his ears. He watches me carefully with his misted gray eyes.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.”  His speech is deep and his words are formed a lot better than anyone else I’ve met so far on the ship.

I shake my head, “It’s alright.  I thought you were someone else.”

“Hm.”  The man nods, then bends to pick up some ropes that are piled on the ground and throws them on top of a crate.

“You don’t usually sail this ship, do you?”  He asks, looking at me again, “I’ve never seen you before.”

“No, sir.”  I say.

“Don’t call me sir.  Name’s Drago.”  He extends a giant hand.

I take it, and see the spinning pentagram while saying, “Blade.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Phoenix, from somewhere near-by, “BLADE!”  She’s screaming, as if terrified.  I nod at Drago as an apology, before taking off towards her voice.  She screams my name again.  Something in my heart tightens.

Where are you Phoenix.  I must be nearing her.  There.  I can sense her, she’s below deck.

“The mess hall.”  It’s Drago, he’s followed me.  I nod and let him lead the way.

Down a flight of stairs, we enter into the room.  Phoenix calls to me, she’s huddled in the corner, clutching her right shoulder.  She’s bleeding.

“What are you doing?!?”  Drago yells.  Several men turn to look at him.  A few shrink away.

“Bitch ‘ame down ‘ere, looking ‘or food.  I says, ‘girls eat later.’ Bitch wouldn’t leave.  Sh’ tried to pick a fight.”

I kneel next to Phoenix, whispering, “Is that true?”  She shakes her head, “C’mon, let’s go to our cabin.”  I help her to her feet, “Can you walk.”

“Yeah,” But she clutches my arm tightly as I lead her away from the room.  Drago is behind us, and moves to walk beside me.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she needs to rest.”

Drago helps me clean Phoenix’s wounds, then I force her to lie down on the bottom bunk.  Drago steps outside the door, shutting in behind him.

“Thanks, Blade.”  She touches my hand.

“No problem.  Can’t let you go around getting yourself killed before we’ve even left Karmana.”  She moves to speak, “No, Phoenix.  Rest.  Tell me later.”  I move away and shut off the light.  I hear Phoenix yawn as I shut the door.

~~@~~

Drago is on the deck, leaning on the rail where he had been before.  I approach silently.

“Are you the one?”  He asks.

I’m taken by surprise.  His voice sounds so innocent.  My voice cracks, “The one?”

Drago nods, “When I was younger, I was told by my parents that I’d meet two people who knew who I was.  Not me, necessarily, but my family’s past.

“Are you a Child?”  He turns sharply at the term.

“Child of the Dying Sun.”  He whispers, an odd thing for such a muscular man.

I nod, “Children of the Dying Sun.”

The first rays of one sun begin to appear on the horizon, as I realize something.

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