Lost Minds Adrift

[Warning: this chapter contains themes of depression, drugs and sex.]

"You dumb men of Viridia! Why make hateful enemies out of us Women that if as loved allies instead, we would foolishly kneel beside you in timeless devotion!"

-Naga Gazhafina, Slayer of a thousand sons

"Mum! Laguna is wounded!" Sion alarmed across the apothecary with the said man limping on his support.

"Please! We need a clear tabletop to lay him on! Bonmhyr Salves, where are the Bonmhyr Salves? Why are you still seated calmly?" Sion stopped when he saw Miriam and Hildred resting by the hearth. His mum is blanketed and blank while Hildred rubs her back softly.

"Oh Sweet Apple-plum, you're finally here for your mum." Hildred told in relief, Miriam's head is leaning warmly on her shoulder. Sion's heart sunk from the after-storm disaster that frowned on his mum's face, but his heart sprung back when he saw a towering Ocmenian walk to the hearth to serve the ladies tea.

"Wait, Laguna?" Sion looked at the Ocmenian quizically as the weight on his shoulder starts to lighten, the body beside him began to dissolve into golden grains of sand that escaped through the cracks of the floor.

"Then that means... "

"Sion, I'm not dying and there's no need for a clear tabletop to lay me on." Laguna crossed his arms. "But I don't mind if you still insist." He flashed him a playful smirk. The recent Laguna was a clone all along, the mysteries of the arcane are starting to astonish and irritate the young alchemist.

"I seriously thought you were dying!" Sion scratches his head. "Was it all just an illusion? damn, I was so worried. "

"Well, my apologies. I just didn't think that your friend there would not hesitate to smother the air out of me if given the chance." The diplomat laughed heartily.

"What I saw was horrible, don't speak like it was nothing!" the boy took a deep breath. "But… I'm just glad that it wasn't really you out there."

"Do you really place such a small belief in your teacher's strength? the outcome won't be the same if I was actually out there fighting and not pulling arcane strings."

"Don't say things you don't know..."

"What do you mean?"

"Ian is a force to be reckoned with. You haven't heard a single rumor about his accomplishments in the sea, and I wish you won't. I am always right beside him each day and yet I still don't see those savage rumors about him to be true."

"No worries, I won't provoke him any longer if that's what you wish."

"Unma lih, hant Loklok kon-Sanko mi fleh ohk maobe!" Queen Hildred shouted from the fireplace.

(Young one, don't smother your husband-to-be and help me here instead!)

"Oh, that grouchy woman!"

"I heard that, Unma lih!

"What happened to you, mum!?" Sion knelt besides Miriam and Hildred. "Mum?" his mother's hands were no different than the snow outside when he held them.

"Miriam, kon'bono zima shalthain kon..." Hildred nudged Miriam.

(Miriam, your son is talking to you…)

After a few crackle of firewood, Miriam finally spoke, "How many have to die so you could feel loved?" Sion wasn't sure if his mom was talking to him or to herself, but he is sure that she's far from stable. He had seen Miriam several times like this before, but this is the worse. It would all start whenever Miriam would excitedly rush out and be gone for days or weeks after receiving a letter from the same person- Alzhina Fida. Then when she gets home, she would always be dead within. Like a part of her was always taken away everytime.

"Stay here Apple-plum, I just need to get something..." Hildred stood up then proceeds to the apothecary's ice shelves.

"Sure thing…" Sion replaced Hildred's position then continued to caress Miriam's slouched back.

"Unma lih, varth konbaq deram mi fleh ohk." Hildred gestured over Laguna.

(Young one, make yourself useful and help me.)

"Jazo, Masvamia…"

(Yeah Grandmother…)

"Mum, what happened to you?" Sion concerned, but silence met him again. He doesn't complain, a silent Miriam is better than an angry one at any time of the cycle.

"Sweet Apple-plum! Where do you keep the alembics in this apothecary?" Hildred asked from the far room.

"We have one on the lowest cupboard of the black cabinet, hard to miss!" Sion shouted back.

"Is this durable enough for pressurized heating of Mournshroom Extracts!?" Hildred asked.

"For that, get from the second-lowest cupboard instead, it is of Zhoutanian brand so it is more durable!"

"Oh, thanks darling I see it now! Laguna, won't you pick it up for me, it's too heavy!" Hildred shouted.

"By the beloved Masvamia! No need to shout at me…"

Silence still met Sion no matter what interaction he does to his mother. He could hear the activities of the Ocmenian visitors from the laboratories, it smells like they are brewing a potion together.

"Mum, I swear if you meet with this Alzeina Fida again I won't hesitate to move in Ian's inn so I won't pamper you like one of the slum-kids." Sion warned, making Miriam stare at his face, her eyes reflecting schemes of depression.

"How many have to die so you could feel loved?" Her voice breaks.

"Mum, I don't know what you're insisting..."

"Still playing dumb my son? Do I look like a fucking fish to you?" she pursed her chapped lips.

"So, once again, how many have to die so you could feel loved?"

"No one, Mum, No one…" Sion answered.

"Then what the fuck are you doing with Ian's mind? We both know that he would kill that envoy of peace any chance you don't look yet you still toy with his feelings?" Miriam whispered.

"He is just confused, Mum. He might be lost in strange seas as of the moment but the Sailor will come back to shore."

"Oh, for fuck's sake! All the rumors you don't want to believe are true. He is the Net-Impaler of Dirge, The pillaging maniac of the north…"

"Don't talk nonsense mum…"

"Remember the news about the shipwreck of a noble family from the Tri-state? Guess who was gone for a trip last moon ago…" Miriam continued to count.

"I can't believe you're doing this…"

"Oh darling, he didn't even spare the children."

The boy covers his mouth, unbelieving of his mother's statements.

"He was a distributor of Crestine Salts to the druglords across the sea and the same sailor who was seen with Captain Gorebones in Lonesome Isles a few days ago. And for the most obvious rumor you don't believe the most, he is in love with you!"

"Nonsense!"

"Don't deny me boy!"

"Oh, really? What about you? Huh? How many have to die so you could feel loved!?" Sion returned the question. "Each time you meet with that letter-mate of yours, you always come home dead inside!"

"How many times are you going to kill yourself for someone who just torments you over and over and over and over and over again!?" Sion raged which made silence return to them, the crushing of ingredients and the alembic boiling in the laboratory are the only noises that are of attendance.

"Ask your Sailor, I'm sure he understands..." Miriam slowly stood up then paced to the laboratory, leaving Sion alone to replace her miserable brooding in the fireplace.

"What the fuck are you brewing in my laboratory?"

"Finally! she's back from the dead…"

"Shut up Mamba Prika…"

"Milady, my account tells that a shipment of Magna Wine from Mezenia arrived our docks this morning, so is a season-worth of wheat and a carriage of timber from Graygreen. The frozen goods we've traded to the Tristates had already reached their shores safely and they sent us the copped ores we've ordered a week ago..." The Whiteraven heir reads on a scroll presented by his scribe which holds it for him.

"Elliott, I've had enough of good news in this life. Move on to the negative reports." Lady Drina sips from her wine glass.

"Well, our tradepost in Navenxii has been embargoed, turns out the state of Witch's Tongue was turned over to the Mud-race."

"Why would Ocmenia take interest in Witch's Tongue? Never mind, It's barely our lost anyway." Drina rolled her eyes dismissing her cousin's scribe. Dirge is one of the best functioning ports of western Sovenia which is close to many countries; Zhoutania to the far west, Akan and The Tristates to the south-west, and Mezenia to the Deep South. Witch Tongue, on the other hand, maybe close to Dirge but is adjacent the Lonesome Isles and their plunderers so the embargo is barely a loss.

"Elliott, a word..."

"Yes, Silver Lady?"

"I just noticed... what's with the long face you wear dear cousin?"

"Not something of importance… just a few recent rubbles in the plaza."

"Rubbles that had affected someone close to me is under my domain? No matter how little, Elliott, I need to learn of it." Drina pushed further.

"Last night at the banquet, you fanned Lady Geraldine about the Sailor you brought, remember?"

"Yes of course, Ian'drah was quite unforgettable…" Drina is preparing herself for whatever misconduct her lover has done again.

"I can't help but overhear that you gave emphasis to his certain friend, the son of Blackmercy..."

"You mean to say, Sion?" Her heart ached from the name that escaped her mouth.

"Yes, that man… well to fuel your curiosity, he is like how our family calls a hidden gem. I met him earlier in Wheathart Bakery and I can now tell why the Sailor appeared agitated last night upon having him as a topic."

"Elliott, don't spill cold tea in Sovenia, everyone wants it hot here." Drina offered her glass to be refilled by a servant. "So you mean to say you've met him already, Elliott?"

"I wouldn't have drunk two bottles straight from your company shipment if I didn't, I swear that boy is an enigma..."

"Indeed he is."

"Well, whatever is bothering you just know that we have all the chance to confront him again. The Ocmenian diplomat started to grow on him and we might even see them attend the banquet together in Graygreen…"

"You have my thanks, Lady."

"Same with you, farewell." The Silver Lady gestured, ordering some near servants to escort her cousin out.

"Anise, my dear why still linger?" Drina peered on a remaining servant, an old woman whose calloused hands had held the Silver Lady when she was but a babe and still taking care of the matriarch even in such twilight years. She doesn't want to go out.

"Child, don't do this to yourself." The old woman begged, her pursed lips trying to quell the words that might escape her broken heart. She knows what Drina is planning to do, silly how her motherly instincts work for someone who isn't her own.

"I'm a grown woman, Anise. If you think that I can't take care of myself, then you failed as my nana." Drina sipped from her glass.

"I'm afraid I did…" Anise bowed down in despondence then left the chamber in quick steps, each taken with regret.

As soon as the servant locked and vacate her facility she's finally alone in the office. She sprawled on the velvet couch at the center, her silver strands spreading on it like a fan. The duties of a Kazer's daughter always tire her, below the cashmere pillow of hers is a pouch of Crestine Salts- a little secret to help cope with the madness of monotonous politics.

The salts twinkled through the dim room as she greedily poured half of its content on her office table. She unsheathed a sword from a weapon rack above her head then divided the hill of white salt into several vertical lines in perfect skill, perks of being a knight. As soon as it was all well placed she dropped the sword on the floor in a loud clang then dove to sniff through the lines on the table like a fiend.

She moaned as the chemicals shoot up straight to her brain, she could feel it caress her nerves and melt her circuits in ecstasy. Crestine Salts refined in the immortal land of Clement is the best gift of the land, she felt like flying in one of the moons of Viridia in broad daylight.

She looked to the sky from the opened windows, the clouds began to form shapes of funny haze and the breeze that floats her heavily embroidered curtains feels so gentle on her skin. It began to circle on her arms then turned hot as it traveled behind her neck.

"Oh Shit…" She stood up in alert with her feet wobbling. She realized that she's not entirely alone for she couldn't remember when any of the servants left her window open before they left. Her head throbs as she struggled to reach for the sword from the ground. There have been many attempts on her life by shady assassins in many forms, she's beginning to get used to it by now. With the sword gripped in hand, Her crystal clear eyes began to evaluate her premise ever so swiftly.

"Afternoon, babe..." A hot whisper tickled her neck, catching her off guard.

"Ian…" She called behind the curve of her shoulder as the Sailor sinks his head on it, stealing the sword of her hand then throwing it to the far corner.

"How are you feeling?" Ian whispered behind her, his hands traveling upon the matriarch's waist while his wet lips landing on her shoulder like blows from paradise.

"Better now that you're near..." Her voice yearned fully, swayed by the touch of the Sailor. "How did you get in here?" She asked with her words swirling.

"That's not important now, is it?" He played with the laces of Drina's robe, starting to sway their bodies like a boat rocking through calming waves.

"Definitely… not important." Drina exhaled rigidly as the laces that kept her clothes together began to loosen. Ian exposed her breasts to the cold winds, fondling her tenderness with his wide hands as she drowns the matriarch with a succulent kiss.

Any creature had to close their eyes with the sight of their fornication. Not because it is distasteful, but rather, it is a scene worthy of the last sight glimpsed by any man.

"You're a fiesty one aren't you?" Drina moaned out as Ian restrained her against the opened window, grinding behind her whilst exhibiting her massive breasts to the open sea.

"Drink…" Ian placed a wine glass on her sore lips, she could smell hints of Crestine Salts on it, but she doesn't mind, it just elevated the debauchery so she obeyed greedily; the wine poured from the sides of her mouth which rolled down her neck and drip around her breasts. Ian turned her around to have a view of the wreck he made before slowly trailing the river of maroon with his tongue, starting from her breasts up to her collarbone, not wasting any wine.

"Einz ist flassen lasse, Lyde'kha!" She moaned out in her native tongue as the Sailor sucked her neck's tenderness.

(Don't tease me with your mouth, Sailor!)

"Then cooperate with me lass." the Sailor nibbled on her tender nipple, circling the other with his thumb.

"Fuck it, Sailor! that's a given! What more do you want…" she guided the hand of the Sailor in her open legs. His hips joining her hips which destroyed all gaps existing between them.

"You love me yes?" Ian whispered, his hands caressing the matriarch's thighs while the other played with her tongue.

"Yes…" she responded while suckling on his wine-soaked fingers.

"You'll let my hands roam, yeah?"

"of course." With that consent, Ian's soaked fingers left her mouth then relocated deep in the matriarch's undergarment, making her head toss back with loud praise to Adastrielle as it touched her femininity. "Now, you better listen carefully dear…" he slowly whispered upon her beating ear.

"You'll do something for me if I do something for you, yes?" Ian slowly massaged her womanhood in spirals which made her eyes roll back and her toes curl upon the robes spilled on the floor.

"Yeah-ugh!" She had to lock her arms at the sailor behind her so she won't melt from the intense pleasure pulsating down below. Soon enough and she'll be one with the ground, covered in white like most Sovenian lands.

"Then, you will invite me as your escort in Graygreen later, yeah?" He slowly pushed half his fingers' length. For Drina, this already feels like knuckles deep from other men.

"Yeah!" Drina moaned out to the open sea.

"That's my baby..." Ian vibrates his fingers wildly yet smooth like the rumbling of waters during a quake, too much for the Silver Lady's remaining sanity. Wet and salty with sweat, her undergarment contains an entire raging sea by now.

"You said earlier that the Ocmenian diplomat might be bringing Sion to the banquet later, yes?"

"Yes!" She answered like a steaming, soon-to-explode Zhoutanian mechanization. He finally pulled his fingers out, making Drina drape her naked self by the window, a lifeless flower catching her breath, dehydrated from energy.

"Whatever plans you were imparting with that greedy white fucker earlier against Sion, I want that to cease, yes?" Ian's voice leaked with anger.

"What? I-I don't understand…" Ian turned her then held her cheeks in a tight grip with one hand, forcing her to see his serious expression. It was enough to make her understand.

"Listen carefully doll..." He touched the hem of her undergarment then ripped it off in one swift motion. The Sailor slightly pulled down his trouser's hem to finally reveal his long-standing reputation, a complete monster of the sea still yet awakened. Drina gulped from this, she felt fear.

"I won't repeat this again…" he held the head of the sea monster then let it swim back and forth on the surface of the sea dripping from Drina. "Hmmm!" Drina tried to muffle herself, hands shaking as they grasp upon the window ledge behind her.

"Whatever plans you and your circle have against Sion, even those which are beneficial for him, It won't happen while I still breathe, yes?" Ian instructed, holding Drina's conflicted stare. Her once crystal clear eyes are now murked with emotions: lust, ecstasy, joy, fear, and the one that surfaced the most- jealousy.

"Yes!" She screamed in complete fluidity of bliss and regret when Ian thrust a quarter of his size. The former remained when the length was pushed halfway in. Then, something higher than bliss was felt when she finally experienced the full length of Ian, enough to make the concept of regret vanquish from her mind.

Last Chapter Next Chapter