Chapter Text
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always had a fear of living for too long. Growing up seemed terrifying, and even now I still fear growing old. But now, that’ll never happen to me. Seeing as I am what some call "the living dead," But, contrary to popular belief, I am not a flesh-eater. My resurrection was not the result of a curse, but of a long-forbidden form of magic. Necromancy.
But, while the majority of my crew is aware of my literal unlivability, they are unaware of its source. The only ones who do know are my three head mates: Konstantinos, Essie, and Yoki. And well, the only reason they know is because they were the only ones there, besides the one who did the resurrection of me, that is. In fact, the one who resurrected me was my lover—at the time, that is.
He, yes he, wasn’t what one would call kind. In full honesty, we never got along. The only reason we were ever together was for more... mature and explicit reasons. I hadn’t even known at the time that he was a sorcerer, let alone a powerful necromancer. Despite our differences, I considered him a good companion. He called me out on my bullshit and arrogance, unlike the majority of my crew at the time.
When I figured out he was even a necromancer, I was already resurrected, and my former blind eye was now pitch black. And he, on the other hand, was already dead. He used up all of his power to resurrect me and allow me to remain the same—to keep my consciousness and awareness. I did grieve, of course. Every time the ship Saorsa makes a victory turn, I always take a shot of his favorite drink in honor of him.
The reason I even had to be resurrected had to have been one of the worst failings of the Saorsa. She’s been through quite a lot at this point, and I’d have to say that that night had to have been the worst, lowest point for both her and those who still remain.
It was six years ago. The night was cold, darker than it usually was the nights before. It had been a peaceful day on the ship; not much had happened. But that night, our luck turned for the worst. Back then, we had quite a few enemies. The fact that I didn't know how to keep my mouth shut back then didn't help.
It was around the time when we were all sleeping. They had come onto our ship discreetly; none of us could even tell that they had invaded. We had to fight tooth and nail, and in the end, close to no one survived. It was brutal; blood stained the floor boards, the sails were dyed red, and the sea, we swore, was more blood than salt water. But the Saorsa went on; our enemy ship, however, did not. Not one person on their crew survived, and their ship sank into the sea, onto the ocean floor.
But the same could almost be said for the Saorsa crew; close to no one had survived on our ship either. The only survivors were the only ones who knew of my resurrection. The next morning, Konstantino, Essie, Yoki, and I were the only ones who made it. Needless to say, none of us were the same after that. We all grew more paranoid than we already were, Essie and Konstan especially. Back then, I was much more cruel than I am now. I didn’t know how to keep my thoughts in my head, and I said things I didn't mean.
Now, after everything, after forming a new crew and family, after becoming a new person, I have changed. Somehow, these people made my stubborn ass change. And I give them all full credit for that; changing someone who was as stubborn as me has to say something about them.
I mean, back then, my crew was much larger than it is now. My crew now isn’t even half the size of what it was back then. But back then, I didn't even know half of their names, let alone their faces. Now, I know all of their names and faces. I know their origins and backstories. I know their grievances and achievements. I know them.
If my younger self could see myself now, I would be assured that kid me would have what one would call a heart attack.
I remember when I was even younger, a child. My parents died when I was a toddler. I don’t even remember their faces. A church of enlightenment, as we thought at the time, took me in. They had a knack for taking in orphaned children. Until then, I never really had a memory of my family being religious. For little me, I never understood why people prayed to the gods for help; for us, you do it yourself.
My memory of that place is blurry and foggy now. But I remember the key details of it. And in full honesty, I still have nightmares, and some habits have been instilled within my subconscious. I remember the pain. I remember the punishments we would receive if we did not do what we were told. A couple of punishments had stayed in the back of my head, but one in particular had been stuck. In fact, I remember when I received this punishment for the first time.
I had not shown up for prayer that day. It had been one of the many times I hadn’t shown up. My luck had worn thin that day. One of the sisters had shown up in the garden, grabbed me by my wrist, and roughly dragged me to the head of the church. This punishment had not been the worst, not by a long shot, but it was the first time this kind of pain had ever been felt. The head of the church had punished me by... doing things to me that I didn’t like.
And I remember the aftermath of that. I remember being in our shared sleeping quarters, shaking and sobbing, and hiding underneath my covers, clutching them like they would protect me. I was only nine at the time. I didn’t understand what had happened or why. I just remember hating it. Hating myself and my body. And I remember my family at the time, not by blood but by choice, comforting me, protecting me from the others, even if they themselves had to take punishment for it.
That was back when Essie could see with both of her eyes. When Konstantino actually slept through the night, it was back when we all didn’t understand a thing in the world and were fine with that. Essie had been the oldest of us three. When I came into the church, she immediately took me under her wing. Teaching me the ins and outs. What I could and couldn’t do, what would get me punished and what wouldn’t.
Essie had protected Konstan and I. She had protected us with her life. The sisters and church head had noticed what she had been doing, how she was lying, and how she was taking the fall for us whenever she could. Needless to say, they didn’t like that. As punishment for doing so, they took something they saw as important to her. I was about fourteen, so she was about fifteen. They took her along with me and Konstan. He was about eleven; he was always the youngest of us.
They forced her to her knees in front of their god, and sat us down behind her. They spoke of treason and of disobeying their God's word. They spoke of how disgusting we were, how disgusting she was, how her eye, which was red, was a sign of bad fortune, of a curse. And so they ‘benevolently’ decided to get rid of it. They said it was to help her see the light and the right path.
The church head took a knife that was laced with gold. It was a beautiful knife, really. The church head grabbed Essis by her jaw and turned her around to face us. He said that it was such a shame and that he wished to punish her in a different way, even offering to do so if she asked. Essie, however, bit his hand and spat at it. All he did was sigh.
That was before he took the knife to her cheek and cut upwards to her brow, blinding her in that eye.
I believe both me and Konstan will never forget her screams. She had never been that loud before. Essie was a very quiet person. The pure emotion, the pain and suffering that was in that scream is unforgettable. That night, I remember not sleeping; me and Konstan sat next to Essie's bed as she cried. I had ever heard her pray before that day.
She was begging the gods, if they were even real anymore, to protect me and Konstan. She begged for a reason as to why this happened, what we did to deserve this. Why would one of their so-called profits do such a thing to children? She begged and begged. She prayed for something, anything. An answer, a sign, something to show they cared. And that maybe, just maybe, someone would save us.
But there was no answer, no sign. No one cared for us except ourselves, and the only way we would survive was if we did so by ourselves. That night, Essie made us promise each other something; something that we three have all kept to this day. The promise was as said: "I promise that I will be there with you, through thick and thin. Through the easy and hardest of days, sickness and health. I solemnly promise that I will be by your side till we no longer are on this mortal plane."
Essie promised us this, and beyond her own wishes, we promised the same. We would always be there for each other, no matter the circumstances. That’s why we are still by each other's sides. It's why Essie and Konstan deal with my arrogance and stubbornness. Why Essie still yells at me whenever I get injured, knowing full well I'll still get hurt the next day. Why Konstan helps me in any way he can, even if it’s something as stupid as cross-dressing to get information. And why I always make sure the two don’t get themselves killed.
I am, and always will be, grateful for them. Even when they one day do die, I will never forget them. The world may forget us, like how it usually does, but I won’t. I will be their living memory. I will be their living story book. For all of them. For Reanne, Elanore, and Roseia. For Bellaire and Fynn, for Willo, Emmeline, and Elvira. For Coeur and Edrei. For Josephine, Yoki, and Hibiki. And for Essie and Konsantinos, I will be here to tell their stories for the ignorant that will never understand what the true meaning of Saorsa is. I will be there forever and always.
I, Aisho Masayoshi, promise this to every current member of the Saorsa.
For that is the true meaning of the ship Saorsa: freedom and liberty.