(Rylara’s History)

My brother placed a thin finger on my drawing and looked over at me. He shook his head slowly and I let out an exasperated sigh, tossing the instrument down and leaning back in my chair. It scraped across the floor of the tiny room with the force of the motion, and I felt my lips pull down into a frown. I’d worked all night, and still wasn’t able to get the map right. His lips did the opposite; he smiled at me and erased the snaky line I’d drawn, replacing it with a gentle curve. I watched closely, not looking up until he set the instrument down again. Our eyes met, the green flecked golden orbs he possessed looking into my own blue-violet streaked ones. The light that spilled through the narrow window slithered across his face. I still wore the frown, brooding over how to ask why he could be so adept at making maps and I was so horrid, without sounding whiney. He answered my thoughts though they weren’t spoken, his voice flowing along with the hissing of the waves outside.

"It takes practice. You’ll get it. Soon. Don’t worry, Rylara." His sentences cut off if strange places, a trait he’d gathered from my father. Though mine held the ocean in every word, as did all members of my family, I was often told I had a way of speaking that resembled a bard’s. This I frowned upon, I couldn’t play a musical instrument or tell a halfway decent story to save my life, though I knew enough to suffice for many long winters.

The boat creaked and my brother stood up, disappearing through the cabin door before I could ask him anything. I’d lived in the boat all of my life, learning the trade of map-making. I was able to see much of the realm because of it, and was content wherever I happened to be.

My father and mother had left my brother and me when I was turning sixteen, and he was twenty or so. They had said the sea had taken its toll, and couldn’t live upon it any longer. They now resided on a sea side village called Raierda, saying they couldn’t manage to be further away from the ocean then that.

I wandered above deck, to find my brother shielding his eyes and squinting into the distance at a small island that we were nearing. "Ry? Do you know that island? Check your map. It’s in the cabin. I think."

I squinted and pushed a hand through my sun-streaked brown hair. "I already know what it is; I don’t need to check my map, Demeer."

He turned and faced me; brows of a shade darker then mine lifting. "Oh? You do? Tell me. Its name."

I stepped up onto the deck he was stationed on and jabbed playfully at his upper arm. He caught my fist and spun me around, turning me to face the island. I looked at the large rock and squirmed in his grasp, but stopped when I saw a light dance across the shadows. "Did you see that?" I asked, then craned my neck upward to look at him. He nodded just as slowly as I had spoken.

"Do you think. We should go? To look? Though it might be safer. To stay on the boat." I shrugged out of his grasp and hopped over to the sails, repositioning them so they’d catch the wind and push us in the direction of the large rocky island. A few more lights began dancing there now, a sure sign that someone occupied it. You always had to be certain an area new to you didn’t already have a name before you mapped it and made up your own, and I believed that those people could help me in that area.

We neared the rock and I moved over to the anchor, straining to heave it over the railing and into the water. It finally rocked loose and fell into the waves with a splash, sending salty spray onto my cheeks. I pushed them off of the back of my hand, absently grinning. I watched the sea for a moment longer then walked back to Demeer, who was fussing with various strings that were attached to the sails. "Shall we go?" I asked him, and he only nodded again. I could sense some apprehension from him, the feeling rubbed off on me and made me uneasy of having to step off of the boat.

After then sun had sunk, leaving dusky after-hues splattered across the sky, we stepped onto the island. A quiet wind whispered through its crevices, tugging at my clothing and making me shiver involuntarily. Not another sound was made as we hiked up the rocky side, except the occasional cry over head of a lonely seagull. I followed my brother’s shadowy figure carefully with my gaze, not wanting to lose him in the darkness.

In a few moments, we’d reached the top of the island. It was even more silent there then it was on the journey up. Another gull cried - a bright splash of whiteness against the quickly descending darkness. I caught Demeer’s arm as he walked by me, putting my fingers to my lips and whispering, "Shh." He hesitated, doing as I bade, straining to hear what I was listening or looking for. I saw a light dash across a pile of jumbled together rocks directly in front of me, disappearing as though it was someone guilty trying to escape an accusing eye. I stepped nearer to it, gesturing for my brother to come up next to me as well. The silence was, indeed, deafening. A loud yell broke it, and a stream of men dressed in dark colored garments flew towards Demeer and me. They were soon on top of it, and I could feel my hands painfully jerked behind my back and a hand clamping down over my mouth. I wasn’t able to look for my brother, whoever was holding me was doing so very tightly. I wriggled and managed to clamp my teeth down on his hand, a trick that had worked for me more then once. Sure enough he let go, shrieking in pain. I wasted no time using all the energy I could gather to burst away, speeding down towards where our boat was anchored. I was almost near it when I heard another roar, and ducked into a conveniently placed rock to my left.

A mass of the ebon cloaked men swarmed past me, shoving violently past each other on their way to the boat. I watched in utter horror as they boarded it in a disorderly but quick fashion, there was no way I’d be able to take it back. One man, a burly looking fellow, looked my way, narrowing his eyes at the darkness. I could have sworn he’d seen me, but he hoisted the anchor up and my home moved away from the island. I felt a silent tear roll down my cheek, but feelings of sadness weren’t what filled my heart. More disappointment, bordering on anger.

The waves welcomed the boat, tugging it farther away from me, into the inky night. I couldn’t even see the speck of light that might’ve represented it - in less then a mere moment it was gone.

I searched the island over the next day, discovering not a soul lived there and that my brother was gone as well. I had no idea what a band of thieves or gypsies, whatever they were, were doing on the island, but had no way of obtaining that information on an empty rock. I did manage to cross the patch of sea that separated me from any life, and soon afterwards I found myself at a small village.

I was amazed how the tiny town’s people immediately flocked to the idea of having their town mapped when I offered, but I did so with a strange joy and received small pay for the task.

It happened that I became wary of every man, because of what happened. I would jump up, when sitting in the local tavern, convinced that I’d seen him that night. It was never true, of course, but it was hard not having someone visible to blame.

I must’ve been eighteen or so when I began to travel again. I made it a point to collect an inexpensive bracelet from each town, city and village that I visited, as a remembrance of where I’d been. Living at sea for a long time, especially with my brother, had taught me many stories, which I found very useful. These I was able to share in return for the many new ones I’d acquired as well. The ones, however, that caught and held my attention the most were the rumors of a map that’s able to transport the user to anywhere in the realm it’s mapped of, by having the traveler simply placing a finger on their destination. I decided I’d look for this but have been quite unsuccessful as of late.

My occupation has never brought me grief save for that one occurrence, nor do I think it ever will again. That’s indeed one thing to be thankful, so I’ll continue to work with what I have.

So ends my history, if it could be considered as much . . . but rest assured, it shall be continued.