The Blue Kingdom

Macha’s movements were painful and exhausting. Little by little, he sat up in bed. The bandages were tight, perfectly placed, and no part of his sunburned body had been left untreated. His mouth tasted of something bitter mixed with the swettness of honey.

He lazily looked around. On the floor he could see his old rags, dirty and smelling. On a chair were a pair of new sailor shorts and a white shirt. Macha scratched his subtle beard patches and looked at himself in the vanity mirror.

He was a skinny boy, but the days he spent in the sea took a toll on him, and now he could easily see his ribs under the skin.

He leaned forward and stared at his palm, also perfectly bandaged. From the pain he felt all over, where Chew had cut him was where it hurt the most.

He vividly remembered that moment. The boat was sinking, and when he threw the first bag of coins into the water, Chew enraged. The memory of his murderous eyes gave him cold shivers.

Chew was a fighter, a killer. Macha was not. To survive in the streets of Tamraparni he never relied on blades or fists. It was always his brain that kept him alive.

From the first sight of that puncher, Macha knew he was going to kill him soon or later. He was good at reading people.

It was not Macha’s idea to rat with the gold. It was Chew’s. But if Macha hadn’t agreed to defect with him, he would now be dead. Chew needed two more hands to handle the prize, and he went along until, by luck or misfortune, the storm caught them and Chew fell overboard.

His eyes watered. The memories of the storm and the following days, floating adrift in full sun, without eating for days or drinking anything but rainwater, were overwhelming. He was not a religious fella, never had been. But before the catamaran and the mermaid girl, he prayed with all his heart.

The mermaid.

His memories of the rescue were hazy. The ship approaching, the man waving his hand. And the shadow underwater, darting towards him and leaving a stream of bubbles in her wake. Noone could swim that fast, but whoever dived under the boat to catch him off guard from behind looked like a human. A girl. Of that, Macha was sure.

Now he was in an unknown vessel, and inside what he had sworn was a lady’s room, if not for the insane amount of books and boxes of machinery parts in every corner.

The smell of the oils and perfumes that filled the room combined with the soft rolling of the ship nauseated him. He needed some fresh air so, with a complaint at each movement, he changed into his new clothes and left the room.

Macha was an observant person. Not by curiosity, but by profession. Being attentive to details of places and people used to give him a hand in the streets. An advantage to protect himself and also to use against the fools he used to rob in the markets.

The next room was what sailors called the bridge. It was bigger and brighter, and like the bedroom, it was all made of varnished wood and nicely crafted metal frames. That was the ship of a rich man, he soon realized.

His thief’s mind began to fantasize, but he cut it off promptly. His prayer while drifting on that small boat was a beg to Ishna, the goddess of the seas. He prayed to survive, and he did. No one survived alone in the Big Blue. As an offering, he swore he would change. Be a better person. And now his words were a sacred oath.

On the other side of the room, next to the windowed wall that led to the outside, there was a hatch leading to a dingy lower deck, where someone was hammering metal while whistling a shanty.

He spent a couple of months on the buccaneers’ ship, enough time to learn a few things and to hear many songs of that type. But it seemed not enough time to learn that one.

From the opposite side of the hatch, a delicious smell made his stomach rumbled. Macha took a few steps towards the cased opening, stopping off a table with maps and navigation tools that were worth a good sum of money.

In a matter of seconds, his mind calculated the price of all. It planned a way to take it unnoticed as soon as they reached port, and it also considered the ways to sell it afterwards.

He shook his head and scuffed his feet, following the smell of food.

The galley, what sailors called the kitchen, was equipped with tools and cutlery of the finest craft. Next to the stoves there was a woman, sitting on a chair with wheels.

“Hello there. How are you feeling?” Her voice was warm and delicate.

“Hi, I feel much better, thanks.”

The woman graved the wheels, and the chair turned, to Macha’s surprise. He never had seen such a thing. The chair with wheels seemed difficult to handle, but the woman moved it gracefully.

She fixed her eyes on him, and her gorgeous face gleamed with a beautiful smile. “You slept just a few hours. You need more rest.”

Macha scratched his dry tangled hair and smiled back. The woman turned her head and her sight got lost through the stern wall portholes.

She was an upper class woman no older than thirty. He could tell with just a quick look. Her dress was the customary one of the rich women of the dragon islands and her hair, tied in a high bun, was of a common fashion in the north. All about her was perfect, so flawless that Macha felt something was wrong with her.

“My name is Lim, I’m originally from Hieng.” She said, staring with an intensity that pushed his eyes down.

“My name is Macha. Nice to meet you.” He bowed in a greeting, northerner style. A move that, perhaps because he had done it wrong or because it looked stupid, caused Lim to chuckle.

She pulled her chair towards a table in the corner and poured tea on a cup. Macha wondered if that was a lazy way rich people used to move around.

“I cannot walk, so we designed this to make my life easier,” Lim said, as if she was reading his mind. “Seat, have some tea.”

“I’d like to have some fresh air if you don’t mind, I feel dizzy,” he said, at the same time a roar from his stomach embarrassed him.

Lim chuckled once again. “Of course, dear, we will have dinner soon. If you are not too tired, you can join us.”

Macha went back to the bridge, trying to decipher the contradictory feelings that Lim aroused in him. On the one hand, something about her seemed strange, but on the other, she had a warm and friendly demeanor, which had made him feel good.

The big metal hatch-door was heavy. It was one of those that can seal any water from entering inside. Macha used the little strength he still had and exited to the deck. The breeze felt fresh and life-giving.

The outside was a flat platform made of wooden planks that connected the two hulls. Catamarans were a rare type of vessel Macha had seen just a few times in the docks of Amarvatti.

The ship, which had the sails up and drifted aimlessly, was rocking gently, making little squeaking sounds. In the center of the deck, next to the central mast, there was a kind of huge wooden bell, with portholes around its wall and chains at the top that tied it to a metal structure.

On the edge of the deck, a strange machine caught Macha’s attention. A human shaped armor of the size of a little kid. Its extremities were short and made of a folded fabric, with tweezers instead of hands. The body was a sphere made of a brownish metal, same as the head, round as well, and with a porthole instead of a face.

Macha scratched his eyes and walked towards it. “Hello,” he said, timidly.

The metallic person was staring at the surface of the ocean. “Anyone there?” he whispered, trying to look inside.

With a soft squeeze, the big head turned. “Greetings! I am Rob.”

Macha gasped and fell on his butt. He’d have screamed, but his voice was gone, and he only managed to swallow.

There was no person inside. The helmet, where he should have seen a human head, was packed with cables and wheels that turned and twisted, exactly as the fancy gear made in the clockmakers’ street.

“Greetings! I am Rob.” It’s voice echoed inside the metallic body.

The boy could not find any words to say. He crawled cautiously to have a better look but there was no one inside, only junk. He was sure that was a joke; it had to be. But, he heard of the stories. Stories of the wonders of the Far North: The Cluster of Nor’wes.

Macha stared at it for a long time. “What, what are you?”

“I am a self-reliant underwater operations Automaton. Greetings! I am Rob.”

Macha nodded, although the answer made little sense at all. He had many questions. How could it possibly move? Was it cables? How did that thing see and talk? He was too tired and weak to bother and remained seated right where he felt, in silence.

He had only enjoyed a few minutes of the sunset when someone cleared his throat behind him. A tall and lean man, possibly the one who greeted him during the rescue, was standing with his arms crossed.

Macha, as he always used to do, studied him carefully, but quickly at the same time.

His clothes, full of soot and oil, were those of a sailor. Nothing special. An old shirt and rail trousers held up by suspenders. He wore his pants folded to the knee and wore nothing on his feet. No military background. Old soldiers never went barefoot. He was not rich enough for that kind of ship, so Macha concluded Lim was the owner, and this man was her sailor.

The man wiped the oil off his hands on the leather apron. “So, born and raised in the Rabbit’s Hole, Uhm?”

His arms and hands were covered in plates of a whitish color, as if his skin was made of metal. He took a little of tobacco from a small bag and filled a wooden pipe. His bushy grey eyebrows raised, requesting an answer.

“Yes.” Macha said, laconically.

The sailor lit his pipe and sucked deeply, blowing a great puff of smoke that surrounded them both. “I heard the kids there choose a new name when they leave the place.”

“They have called me Macha all my life. I didn’t see a reason to change it.”

“That makes sense. So, tell me young Macha,” the man paused to take another puff. “How does a boy from ‘Tampra’ end up far nor-west of Wei?”

Macha had all his lies ready. “I was in a crew of fishermen. We lost our mother-ship and got caught in a storm.”

The old sailor hummed and reached for his mustache, gray like the rest of his hair, stroking it with his fingers. “Very well, kid. Now you are safe.” The sailor’s voice could not hide a tone of suspicion that Macha caught immediately. “This is my ship, the Ballerina. You can call me Em.”

“Nice to meet you,” Macha said, trying to figure out how to convince that man he was not a threat.

Em walked to the edge of the deck and threw the ashes from his pipe into the sea. “The Big Blue is a dangerous place. You are a really lucky fella.”

“Yes. I was sure I was going to die of hunger or be eaten by a sea monster.”

Em looked at him askance and cleared his throat. He filled his pipe again and watched the water for a long time.

Macha took the opportunity to analyze him better. The Rabbit Hole, a place in the slums of Amarvatti where orphans were trained in all the underworld arts and crafts, was well known by the Parni people. Was that man a Parni? His skin, darkened by years of work under the sun didn’t give a clue. By his facial features, Macha could tell he was not from the dragons like Lim, but the old man could be from any of the southern islands of the Ring.

He could know from experience. After all, he was a sailor, and an old one. Wrinkles and a balding head were proof enough. Taverns were an excellent place to get information and he had plenty of years and travels to know about the Hole.

Macha stared at the man’s arms. The armored skin was made of pieces that fit the shape of his extremities perfectly, leaving just little black gaps between them, especially on the joints.

Was it just armor? The thought made him look at Rob again.

“Greetings! I am Rob.”

“It won’t stop saying that until you introduce yourself. “Said Em, his eyes lost in the blue. “This robot is a wonder from Bandanii flea market. Still, his speech is really basic. We are working on it.”

“Bandanii?” asked Macha.

“Aye, In the Red Island. If you want to find the best: Bandanii city. Ignore all the rest, especially in the Ring. Only charlatans here.”

Macha heard stories of that place. The Red Island was the reaching point for sailors that traded with the Nor’wes. But word was no one traveled there any more.

“You crossed the Big Blue?” asked the boy, surprised.

“Aye.”

Macha looked at the machine with his eyes wide. “Greetings!-”

“Macha! My name is Macha!”Snapped the boy, enduring the mocking smile under the sailor's mustache.“I thought no one sails North West anymore,” He continued.

“Just a few ships these days,” Em hit his arm with the pipe and all the ashes flew with the wind. “Listen kid. As someone that just saved your life, I’d like a little favor in return. When we leave you at a safe port, please don’t talk about what you see on this ship. The wonders of the far North are not always seen with a good eye around here.” Em frowned and stared at him, waiting for an answer. The kid swallowed and nodded.

Em walked away a few steps and stopped. “Is not that we keep any secret. Many know about our machines in the ports we sail, but I don’t like people sniffing around at every corner.”

Macha couldn’t avoid looking at Em’s arms, shamelessly .

The sailor raised his hands and closed them in a fist. “This is just a prosthesis. An artificial replacement.” He opened and closed his hands slowly, with his eyes fixed on the palms. “I lost my arms long ago.”

After a moment to remember past times, he cleared his throat and stroked his mustache. “Red Island. Best replacements you can find. Uhm, anyway. Dinner. Yes. When Ivy comes back, we will have dinner. You are free to join us, aye?”

Em left Macha alone with Rob. Immobile, the talking machine seemed concentrated on the surface of the water. For a long time, Macha remained there, sitting in silence over the wooden deck wondering about the strange crew of that ship.

For now, none of them seemed too interested to dig in his past, and that was a good sign. Hopefully, he’d leave the ship without being reported to any authority. The old sailor was suspicious, his voice betrayed him. He didn’t seem to worry too much, otherwise, how could he let him wander around the ship unattended? Was he so careless?

A soft splash brought back his mind to the deck. On the surface, next to the hull, the head of a girl showed between the waves.

He wondered if that was the first time the girl had surfaced since he was outside. “Hello, you must be Ivy. My name is Macha.”

The girl tossed a bag towards the boat and held out a harpoon with a large fish on the tip to Rob. The machine grabbed it with its pincer hands and, with noisy and awkward steps; it picked up the bag and went inside. Macha raised his hand and repeated his greeting, although the girl’s furtive gaze suddenly interrupted him. Without letting him continue, she plunged again.

The boy got up, letting out a small wail of pain. The sound of a great splash startled him and he staggered, almost falling into the water. That girl had jumped to the deck directly from the water, without the need of any rope or ladder.

“You like to catch me off guard,” he said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. His charm was not working at all.

The girl strode to the wooden bell and tied his harpoon. She wore a black suit that covered her body, except hands, feet and face. It was tight against her slim but athletic body, and although it did not show anything, it was a type of clothing that women did not wear.

Macha blushed and looked the other way. She strode away, giving him a last scowl before disappearing through the door.

Back to the galley, Em and Lim were already sitting, drinking tea. The table was covered entirely with a large variety of dishes, many of them of food he had never seen. Lim invited him to sit with them with a subtle nod and a hand wave. She filled a cup and smiled.

“So, what was a Parni kid doing in Wei?” Em said, breaking the charm of the moment.

“I was fishing-”

“Aye, aye. You said. I mean, why was a Tampraparni boy fishing there? As far as I know, no one but locals have permission to work those waters.”

Macha’s body tensed, although he already had enough experience not to show it. Before answering, he put on a face of someone who is not worried about being asked, but who understands the concerns of not being trusted.

“Tamprapani waters have been over-fished for a long time and there is not much left. Our Cap sneaked into Hanan to get a better catch.”

“When you throw the hook in another pond, the fish that’s caught is you.” replied Em, condescending.

“I was quite new. I was in no position to tell the captain where to fish.”

“No one has. Cap’n orders are cap’n orders.” Em said, with a bit of pride in his voice.

The young girl stormed into the room. Em and Lim stopped paying attention to Macha, which relieved him a bit.

Lim pointed her hand towards her. “Macha, this is Ivy, our niece.”

Macha only nodded, knowing there was no greeting coming from the girl.

“You found how many pearls?” asked Lim.

Em looked at the ceiling and sighed. “Very good, leave them on the navigation table, I will count them later.”

“That’s fantastic dear, I’m impressed.” Although Lim seemed to talk to Ivy, Macha could only hear the woman’s voice. Was she reading Ivy’s mind? The boy thought.

With a manly sailor’s attitude, she plodded through the room and dropped her own weight into the chair. She was blotting her black hair, loosened at shoulder length. If Lim was the very picture of class and finesse, she was the opposite. Under an oversize shirt and short pants, there was no hint of womanhood he could notice. Even so, with a round face where thick lips and deep dark eyes ruled, she’d been considered pretty by most.

“Please, let’s eat,” Lim said, waving her hand and nodding slightly.

Macha’s stomach roared.

“I know you are hungry, young Macha, but you should eat and drink just a bit. If not, you will get sick.”

“Yes ma’am,” replied him.

“Just Lim, please.”

Luckily, there was not much conversation during the dinner. Lim asked Ivy some questions while she, with her mouth full, answered with gestures. Em followed their conversation quietly and Macha was relieved that he didn’t ask again about his past.

While Ivy devoured everything that was at hand, Em only ate a bit of soup, and Lim didn’t touch any food at all. Macha, following the woman’s advice, ate a little of everything.

“I ate while cooking, and now I’m not hungry,” Lim said, covering her smile with the hand. Although being an expert at reading people, the subtle mannerisms of the northerner woman were difficult to decipher.

Of one thing, he was now sure. Lim could read minds, and that was why he felt something strange about her. What he was not yet sure was to what degree she dug into him. Did she find out about his past? All seemed to point they still didn’t know, but it could all be a sham to keep him calm until, when reached port, they’d hand him over to the authorities.

Uncomfortable, he decided to put some distance between him and the sorceress. “I should rest a bit more.” he said, this time, unable to hide his nervousness.

Lim nodded, and her smile gave him chills. He stood and bowed his head. “ Thanks so much for your kindness. I cannot express how thankful I am-”

“No worries, kid, forget about it,” interrupted Em. “Do you know the way to the cabin you slept in before?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Em nodded and looked at the plate. Ivy continued to ignore him but Lim stared with that smile that was disturbing and charming at the same time. Without thinking twice, Macha left the room.

Midway, he stopped once again in front of the navigation table. As they said, there was a bag filled with big pearls. That was an expensive prize that they didn’t count yet.. He could take a few and they would never realize.

The temptation from his old self was strong. But the new Macha won. He was a newly changed man.

Glad to keep his oath, he turned his back on the pearls and headed to the room.

Lying in bed, exhausted and staring at the ceiling, he remained for hours without being able to sleep. He couldn’t get the strange group he had just met out of his head.

If Lim had read his mind and knew the truth, he was doomed. Although perhaps she could only partially read minds. Em suspected him. And Ivy was even more dubious. Escape was not an option until they were close to land. And with that mermaid girl, he wouldn’t have taken two strokes before she dragged him into the abyss.

When his worries could no longer bear the weight of his exhaustion, Macha felt his eyes slowly close. Little by little he felt calmer, realizing that although his future was uncertain, he had to be grateful to Ishna for having rescued him from certain death. He was alive, and that was a miracle. Content with that thought, he fell asleep soundly, as he had never slept before.