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A Farewell to Africa

The miserable business was over, I had paid up my part in full and was now awaiting for my end of the bargain.

Laurent was sent with a small party of fennecs to the East, to deliver news of our victory to the Shah himself while another scouting party was ordered West to let Izil know that the invasion of Europe would commence as soon as possible, we couldn't let this chance slip through our fingers.

All there was to do now was sit back and wait, reigning over our little patch of the Suez.

There wasn't much to do, we had slaughtered the tribes down to the last cub, save for that one brave lion and that bundle he carried through the flames. When the inferno settled, we found no trace of either's body and part of me was relieved that there was a chance they survived while the other feared that tales of this misdeed would spread and we could face reprisals while holding down the canal.

I try not to regret things, finding it to be a useless emotion for the most part, but if I could have done things differently I would have.

My nights with Taj were restless. I would toss and turn all night, the moment I drifted off I would be awoken by the horrible sounds of the burning roof caving in and the cries of despair.

War is never clean, never. Collateral damage is always a threat and there were surely innocents, kits even, harmed during the cities I besieged in Africa. My first campaign in the Alpini mountains, certainly the bandits there had kits that I orphaned. Pest even, the cleanest siege I ever took part in, thanks to the sheer luck of finding a tunnel into the castle, the mop-up job of the city itself was not clean.

But none of those compared to what I witnessed during my massacre of the lions.

Taj, growing irritated with my late-night whimpering and tossing, advised me to pick up my pipe and smoke it until I calmed down enough to sleep. It was rarely enough to work, but I kept at the habit anyways if only for her sake.

As much, I spent most midnights leaning on the bridge railing, fingers wrapped around my pipe and slowly taking in the opium-laced smoke. It helped make me hurt a bit less and helped muffle the screams, but deep sleep still eluded me.

One such evening, I emerged from the shack me and Taj had taken up residence in, and padded towards my favorite smoking spot. To my surprise, a young fennec warrior was already there, leaning over the railing and vomiting. I stood beside him, feeling the warm breeze brush across my facial fur from across the Suez. The night sky was dotted with countless, twinkling stars, which made me think of Sophia, who paid much more heed to the stars than I did. I laughed a bit, wondering what terrible omen she would make out of the stars tonight.

"Sorry, General!" I was broken out of my thoughts by the fennec, who stood up straight and saluted in the Foxen manner, as I had instructed them, before wiping away a blotch of vomit caught on his white chin. "I'm not sure what happened, I-"

"It's fine, it happens to everyone," I shrugged and took a hit from the pipe, sending a sweet numbing sensation coursing through my limbs. "First time?"

"No, General, uh, I've taken part in raids before I joined up with Chief Izil, just after Tunis. I'm a veteran warrior!"

"But you've never killed before."

His tall ears folded back, his tail tucked between his legs and he looked around nervously. There was no one else around, except for distant shadows of fennec patrols slowly weaving between the shacks and tents set up on the bridge.

"It's alright," I reached out and patted him on the shoulder, he jerked away from my friendly gesture, "it happens to everyone the first time, even me."

His dark eyes went wide, flickering a bit from the reflected moonlight.

"It was in the Alpini Mountains, my first command. In the decades after the Alphate invaded and took Foxen land, including my home in Carpathia, lawlessness was rampant in several of the Republics that made up the Grand Republic. Outlaws felt that the age of Foxen dominance in Europe was at an end and decided to start looting whatever they could find, some even tried to declare themselves Kings."

"By the time I got command, most of the bandits had been put down, except for the ones in the Alpinis. The roughest, toughest pricks around; they'd slip down from their mountains, raid local towns and be back in hiding by daybreak with ambush parties waiting for any who followed up the narrow mountain passes."

"Anyway, after putting together a map of their attacks I found a pattern and assumed they'd hit a small town near Merano, don't know if you've ever heard of it, doesn't matter. I swept in with a small unit, assumed control of the town and forced the peasants to hide in whatever cellars they could, only saying they could come out to keep candles in their homes lit so as to make them look lived in, while my soldiers set up dummies inside them. I kept the main force camped out on the hills nearby, no fires."

"Sure enough, the bandits took the bait. They rode in and wasted a good quarter of their missiles on the dummies inside the houses. By the time they realized it was a trap, we had them surrounded. They were good at fighting unarmed peasants but they were not prepared for the Republican militia to converge on them from the hills."

I cleared my throat and took a puff from the pipe, "I'm rambling, I know. Anyway, long story short, some of them took to hiding in the cottages and I barged into one with my crossbow in my paws and my sword at my hip. One of the bandits was huddled in a corner, dressed in ragged feral bear furs and he was begging for his life, but you know what he was also doing? He was pointing his spear at me the whole time he begged! Imagine that, begging for mercy and having the gods damned balls to threaten me!?"

"What did you do, General?"

"I shot him, nailed him in the throat with a bolt," I snorted and took another puff, trying to muffle the gurgling noise that I remembered from that time, "took him about an hour to die and I was too busy puking to give him a merciful death."

The fennec gulped, "I killed one of the Priestesses...she was unarmed."

"Ah..." I nodded knowingly and grimaced as the screams of the cubs and their parents rang through my head once more. There was not enough opium in the world to drown them out, "everyone panics the first time they do that too, killing someone unarmed. You're getting it all done on your first go, in some ways you're lucky."

"Traditionally, we're to take unarmed people captive so that we can sell them or put them to work," the fennec leaned over the railing again, looking for a moment like he was about to vomit again but halted and turned back to me, "I saw her looking at me as I rode towards her and I swung my blade and..."

I sighed, "During a battle, it's hard to tell who's truly unarmed. Look at me, do you think I'm armed?"

I slapped the sides of my robes, showing that I had left my saber back at the tent.

"Yes, General."

"Guess again," I quickly reached into my left sleeve and pulled out a tiny dirk that nested in a sheathe sown to the inside. I ran one of my fingerpads along its blade, "if you ever find yourself in doubt, it's better to be safe than sorry. You'll pull through this, all of this will fade in time."

"I understand," the fennec shifted in his robes, "but there's just one thing. When she died she made this awful sound, a heart-wrenching shriek! I keep hearing it when I sleep, when I'm alone, all the time! Does that go away too?"

I paused, hearing the screams once again. I looked away from the fennec and sniffed at the night air, trying to regain some confidence before I answered.

I turned back to him and answered, "Yes."

Weeks had slipped by and I was growing fearful that the Shah had decided to add Laurent to his menagerie, writing off the whole venture with me.

When an entire month had passed and the party I had sent to Tunis, which was naturally significantly further away, had returned, I grew downright paranoid.

Not helping matters was that Izil had sent a much smaller force than I had expected, only about a hundred fennecs on horseback along with his regrets that they could not spare more due to "Security concerns," back in Tunisia. This was not nearly as much as I had expected to take back to Europe, the warriors were true scar-covered veterans and I did not doubt their skill, only their numbers.

I found myself smoking opium during the day as well after I found myself on the verge of snapping at a random fennec for a minor mistake. I was convinced that the Shah had betrayed us and Izil was in cahoots with him, and we merely had to wait for the two of them to converge on us.

This bridge was going to be my tomb, I was convinced of that.

Some light-hearted levity came across us and helped distract me. A trading cog came floating Northward, up the canal. It's short mast was sticking upward, carrying a fluttering sail that had a crude pictogram of a wolf planting his foot on the back of a kneeling human's head on it. It was clear who captained this ship and what the cargo was.

They didn't realize anything was wrong until it was too late to turn around. No doubt they were used to traveling this route in the past as they showed such trust, such absolute faith that the lions would let them pass unhindered.

Only when I peeked my head up from my cover and matched the gaze of one on of the wolves on deck did they realize what was wrong. Despite the distance, I could see his ears fold back and his mouth open wide in fear.

We couldn't let them go.

"FIRE!" I ordered and a volley of arrows and other missiles was unleashed.

The ship's deck was wholly unprepared for the precision accuracy of fennec archers. A few wolves were able to leap below deck but the majority were struck dead in an instant.

We seized the ship, dropping ropes from the lower platform of the bridge and sending a team of our best warriors onboard. There were no casualties, at least from our side. Five wolves were captured and I let a sixth one join the army as soon as I learned he was an Iberian wolf who was from Granada until wolven pirates raided his village and sold him to the traders whose ship we just captured. He didn't seem to care that I was also, effectively an enemy of the Republic.

Most interesting though was the cargo. Twenty humans, mostly women and children, along with a few younger, weaker males; doomed to live in servitude to the Alphate for the rest of their lives were it not for me.

I had no means of selling them, nor did I have the stomach for it, perhaps feeling a little weak from the massacre, I must admit. They were in no condition to be conscripted into my army, so I just let them stay in our camp and do some minor work around the place. They only spoke some human language, but the adults began calling me something along the lines of, "Liberator," while the children laughed and ran after me where ever I went in the camp.

I didn't understand it. They were still stranded in a distant land, surrounded by chimera who they'd have every reason to despise, but they brought some nice levity to the camp and a few of the adults began forming relationships with some of my fennecs.

It was nicer than fixation on what I was convinced was our incoming betrayal.

"INCOMING SHIPS!"

A shrill fennec cried out and I immediately broke away from nuzzling Taj's face. Throwing on my robes and attaching my scabbard to my belt, I emerged from the shack with Taj irritably following behind.

Sure enough, on the Southern horizon was a small fleet of trading ships. They were larger than the wolven one we had captured, with sloping lateen sails reaching out from their decks. The masts lacked symbols and it was too distant to make out the inhabitants.

"Hold position!" I shouted, ducking behind the Southern railing while the rest of my army did the same. Arrows were nocked into their bows by the fennecs and even some of the liberated humans joined in without asking, carrying armfuls of stones to the railing and arming themselves. All they knew after being taken from their homes was Wolven cruelty, so I suppose we foxes and fennecs looked like decent sorts to them. Still, I was surprised at seeing them fall into line but I was not disappointed.

These weren't warships, they were clearly traders, but if they were wolves we would have to take them all down and I didn't think we had enough soldiers to do that. Still, we had to try.

"Get ready to fire!" I hissed.

I peered up from my cover and squinted my eyes at the blurry figures on deck. One figure was sticking out like a sore thumb, some overly proud merchant dressed in baby-blue silk clothes standing on the stern of the leading ship.

What kind of buffoon dresses in their finest on a ship voyage?

I got my answer a few seconds later when the ship drew closer and made out the figure the clothes belonged to. He had yellow fur and black spots.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" I barked and stood up, waving at the ship. "It's the Shah! He's come to honor his deal!"

The Shah had made a smart decision coming here on a merchant ship. If he had come on a proper warship my paranoia would have likely overcome me and I'd have ordered us to massacre them, then we would have truly been alone, waiting to die.

When the ships anchored just underneath the bridge, we rappelled down onto them using the ropes. Me and Taj landed on the deck with a heavy thud, just before the Shah.

"Welcome, General Marco! I pulled some favors with the largest merchant guild in the Shahdom! These ships will spirit you away to Europe!"

I didn't know a damn thing about ships, but they looked good enough for me. They were simple, sturdy and most important of all: humble. The storage hulls were empty, save for provisions and supplies needed to maintain the journey, plenty of room for weapons and horses.

"I was worried for a moment, I must confess, your Majesty!" I sighed, looking at the crew of leopards busily moving crates and barrels around.

"Ah, yes, I do apologize for the delay! In fact, it was your dear friend Laurent who insisted upon it!"

"Laurent?"

"Yes! He said it would be incredibly suspicious ferrying in this many ships, even if they're merely trading ships, and concocted a ruse! One that hurts the dignity of the Shahdom slightly, but it was so delightfully devious that I could not help but agree to it! He-"

"I," a voice called out from behind me and Laurent emerged from the rear cabin, orange arms crossed around his chest, "saw that the Shah had received a letter demanding a tribute from the Alphate. I had the Shah send off a letter to the Alphate, saying that he would send out a fleet of treasures with enough tribute to last a century, and another to the Republic to offer them to send an envoy to witness this joyous event for Wolven-Leopard friendship. We've received responses from both authorities and in case we're intercepted they should not bother us, as far as they know, we're on official diplomatic business."

"This one here!" Levanti walked over to Laurent with his arms outstretched but stopped just short of hugging him. The Shah bowed slightly. "My apologies, I forgot you don't like being touched."

Laurent waved his paw, "It is nothing."

"This one here!" Levanti waved his paw towards Laurent. "I don't suppose you'll let me hire him as a spymaster? Ah, don't answer, I can't truly hire him, after all my Mother is the current spymaster, but I truly wish I could!"

"I'm impressed, Laurent!" I congratulated him. "Truly inspiring!"

"Thank you, General."

"Where are the others?"

"They're all below deck, Luce, Folu..." Laurent paused with a sneer, "...that damned wolf."

"Excellent, excellent!" the Shah clapped his paws together. "If you don't mind, I wish to talk with the dear General alone for a moment?"

Without waiting for an answer, Levanti grabbed me tightly by the paw and just about yanked me towards the cabin.

The cabin was small, with nothing more than a small bed and a round table with a candle burning atop it. It reeked of tar and varnish. Once Levanti closed the door behind him, the room went dark, the candle casting sinister shadows across the wooden walls.

Levanti's round eyes sparkled as he circled the table before sitting down on a stool. I did the same, sitting across from the table.

"It's truly a disappointment that you'll be leaving soon, Marco," the Shaw leered at me from across the table, running his fingers along his white whiskers. "I don't suppose I could offer you something better?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. There was something about his tone that bothered me and I could feel my hackles start to twitch.

"My menagerie...could use a fox General among it."

Before I could refuse, the Shah continued.

"It would be a safe life, a comfortable life. I would design your exhibit, your room, myself and make sure you're given ever comfort you could ever imagine! No more risking your life for some silly war, why not retire for a life of idle luxury with me? With my entire collection. We could be such good friends."

"Levanti, I..."

Something brushed up against my leg and I felt a claw gently scrape against my skin. Levanti had taken off his slippers and was now running his foot along my leg suggestively.

"I know you enjoyed yourself, Marco," the candle suddenly flickered and Levanti's eyes shone, "when you let me mount you."

"THAT NEVER HAPPENED!" I shouted, slamming my fists into the table. "I WAS ON TOP!"

"Do you truly believe that, Marco? You were a little reluctant at first, a little proud, but you know what they say about foxes...they can't resist being taken like a bitch," Levanti smiled lustfully, "I have never heard anyone squeal quite so ecstatically like you did in bed. I know you want this, why deny it?"

"Because it never happened! You were the passive, not me! NOT ME!"

"Why does it matter, Marco? There's no shame about submitting to another male," Levanti shrugged. "Half the Senators in the Republic are rumored to do the same thing with their lovers, an open secret that I'm sure you're aware of."

This was the only truth he said tonight. Unlike the Alphate, where it was very important to publicly show who was on top in a relationship, foxes considered such thing to be a private matter.

However, I was not a Senator, a nobleman, or a merchant. I was a General and I hoped to be made Dictator. Not only would this _lie_disparage my image among my soldiers but if word spread the wolves could use it against me during my planned war. Ballads proclaiming me Marco "Barbed-rear," would be sung from Lupercal to Vulpezzia.

"We're done here," I said calmly, "I'm taking the ships back to Europe, unless you plan on breaking your promise..."

"Oh, I have no intention of doing that! Go on, take them back to Europe and wage your little war, but once you go my little offer is void, do you understand?"

"You've done nothing but accuse me of being a shameful passive. Once I'm back in Europe, we'll have no further contact."

"No, Marco," Levanti bared his fangs but did not growl, "once you've consolidated power you will supply us with a legion of the finest Republican soldiers at the Suez and place them directly under our command."

"Foxes don't lift their tails for leopards, Shah. Denied."

Levanti suddenly started sniffing loudly, holding up his paw to his nose before unleashing an obnoxiously fake sneeze.

"Ah, damned allergies! The desert sand is brutal!" Levanti sniffed. "I don't suppose you have a handkerchief."

I said nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Oh!" Levanti pulled a piece of cloth out of his sleeve. "I've got one right here."

I kept quiet, there was no reason for me to be suspicious of his intentions.

Levanti lifted it to his nose but stopped upon seeing a small blotch of dried blood on it.

"Ah, what's this now?" Levanti brought the cloth to his nose and sniffed, keeping his yellow eyes trained on me. "Ahhhh...of course! What delightful memories this holds! Here, have a sniff!"

Levanti held out the cloth slightly, just out of reach and I trained my nose on it, sniffing intently.

I'm sure you've heard this part before. All the slanderous stories that have spread about me and the Shah make sure to mention this.

I will only talk about the truth though and what I smelled indeed smelled a lot like a curious mixture of my scent and Levanti's. More importantly, it carried the scent of my rear and my blood along with an overpowering feline musk. Any chimera with a functional nose could smell that and conclude that it was indeed the scent of a fox that had been mounted and bled by a leopard's barbed cock and if they had come into personal contact with either of us they would recognize our scent.

That much was true, but it was still a lie. I had never given myself up for Levanti and I don't know how he managed to replicate this smell, some leopard alchemist probably concocted it during the long wait for them to arrive at the Suez.

I lunged forward but Levanti danced back and called for his guards, who barged in and stood in-between us, a wall of chain-mail armed with curved swords.

"So, Marco, upon consolidating power, you will send and replenish one legion in the Suez and send more if war were to ever break out in the area! We will be keeping an eye on your progress and if you don't act quickly we'll have to send one of our diplomats on a continental tour and let all sorts of powerful figures have a sniff of your shame!"

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" I snarled and the guards responded by drawing their swords. "You're lying! No one will believe you!"

"You there!" Levanti whispered to one of his guards and held the handerchief next to the chain-mail mask running along his nose. "What does this smell like?"

"Smells like you took this fox like a bitch, your Majesty!" the guard snickered.

"Now, Marco, you might find it hard to believe but I don't brag about my sexual conquests to my guards under normal circumstances and this is no exception! If you disobey my demand, the entire continent will know what you did, what you offered up as part of our deal! So keep your yap shut and keep the soldiers coming, I expect the lions are going to want reprisal after what you did!"

There was nothing I could, nothing I could say, so I kept quiet, fuming silently in my seat.

"Oh, and try to not get killed, Marco!" Levanti shot back as he left the cabin. "Death is no excuse to not live up to your end of the bargain and this handkerchief would make a lovely display at your funeral."

I've said it once and I'll say it again: ships are miserable creations.

I am not prone to seasickness as some presume, I merely hate ships plain and simple.

The rocking, the smells, the food, and most of all the sheer emptiness of the sea. The Admiral of the fleet, a melancholic leopard with long, drooping whiskers, insisted on charting a course through the center of the Mediterranean, trying his best to avoid being spotted from ashore. I had no logical objection to the plan, we were passing through Alphate territory and although Laurent's plan would likely guarantee we would not be taken as hostiles, a wolven Captain might insist on escorting us to Alphate territory and we would really have no reason to refuse. I suspect that's part of why Levanti liked the plan, if things went South and the ruse was uncovered by the wolves, chances are that I'd be handed over to them and told that I'm the Shah's tribute.

However, as much as I could not object to the plan, it created a strange sensation whenever I'd climb on deck and witness nothing but empty seas in all directions. Endless, rolling waves and not so much as a cloud on the horizon. I felt like I was back in exile once again.

As a result, I spent most of my time below deck either tending to my horse or discussing strategy and playing cards with my close companions. There was nothing else to do now but wait for the plan to reach fruition: lower anchors in staggered locations along the fox-controlled sections of the Dalmatian coast, disembark all horses and soldiers as fast as possible, then finally disappear into the hills to reunite with Vito. The army in Dalmatia was commanded by Vito, according to Laurent, but we still had to be stealthy until we met the new General himself, lest an ambitious Captain decide his loyalty to Philippe outweighed his loyalty to Vito.

It was shortly after we had just entered into the Adriatic Sea (Which looked exactly like the Mediterranean to me.) that a storm had hit. Another reason why I hated the sea: if you were on land you could take shelter in any myriad of places but in the sea you had no choice but to weather it out and keep moving.

We were all below deck sitting on the floor and playing a game of cards. Taj and Folu were cuddling against my shoulders, with Taj blatantly cheating by looking at my deck and the hyena shyly trying to avoid looking as much as possible. Luce was sitting across from us, clearly bored out of her mind, while Laurent glanced hatefully over at Ekrem, who we allowed to play for reasons I can't quite recall.

Ekrem was locked up in the brig when the Shah brought him over and we decided it was good to leave him there for the most part, but eventually let him play with us, after all, there was nowhere to run. We left him shirtless, as he was in the prison, which at first grew irritating as he was clearly flexing his larger, wolven muscles whenever anyone looked at him but turned out to be a good idea as he was a compulsive cheater, constantly reaching for cards up his non-existent sleeves.

"Draw," Laurent, acting as the dealer, ordered and we all placed our cards down.

"Fuck!" I cursed, slapping down a completely useless hand. Ten of Swords, Nine of Swords, Three of Coins, Page of Wands, and King of Cups. Luck had not been kind to me. Sophia would have had something to tell me about the two Sword cards, that's for sure, Nine depicted a vixen sitting up in bed sobbing while Ten showed a fox lying face-down in the mud with ten swords stuck in his back. The implication of both weren't exactly subtle.

"Three of a kind!" Taj cheered and slapped down a hand with three proud Kings in it. The King of Wands, a humble foxen ruler sitting atop a wooden throne and carrying a simple wand; the King of Coins, an avaricious Doge sitting atop a golden throne; and most concerningly, the King of Claws, a depiction of a wolf sitting atop a similar throne but dressed in the typical Alphate robes.

"What the hell is this?" I snatched the King of Claws and showed it off to the group.

"Hah! Your little sand-vixen cheated!" Ekrem proudly declared, looking almost as smug as the King of Claws himself. "That's the Alphate deck's version of the King of Coins!"

"Bullshit! It was always there!" Taj grabbed the card and slapped it on the floor along with her winning hand. "I win!"

"Canis..." Laurent rubbed the bridge of his muzzle as the ship sway violently, "we're not even playing for coin here..."

"It's about honor!" Taj thumped her fist onto the ground. "You declare a fennec a cheat, you'd best be prepared to fight!"

Luce sighed, "If it wasn't you then, who? I've never seen this card before, someone slipped it in."

"Can't possibly imagine," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at Ekrem.

"Oh yes, Marco, why not blame the wolves for spoiling your milk and making your meat go rotten!" Ekrem snarled, accidentally showing off his broken fang. "In case you haven't noticed, the only thing I've got on me is my pants and I had to fight for that ever since you let that barbaric feline arrest me!"

"If it wasn't you, then who?"

I looked around the room at outraged Taj, irritated Laurent, bored Luce, sardonic Ekrem, and then finally...

"I-i-it wasn't me!" Folu bowed his head bashfully. A loud crack of thunder rang out. "I'm sorry this happened though!"

Smiling, I scratched Folu behind the ear, not imaging for a second that the hyena was capable of pulling such a bluff. I was growing quite fond of him as a servant and was thinking of asking Taj to have him join us one evening when we got a bit more privacy.

"Alright! You want me to take my pants off and show you!?" Ekrem suddenly proclaimed and ripped his trousers off, showing off his bulging sheath that he was so proud of, and turned his pants upside down, shaking them. "Look, no cards! I'm innocent!"

"Nobody asked for that," Luce groaned.

"No! You know what? Everyone take their clothes off, someone has to be hiding an extra card up their sleeve and I have my wolven honor_to protect!" he slapped his sheathe lightly when saying the word_honor.

"Fuck you!" Laurent snarled instantly in response to Ekrem's demand.

"I get it, you foxes are always afraid of _big_things, but we need to get to the bottom of this scandal and right away! I will not be slandered!"

"G-General..." Folu whispered to me, "should I take my clothes off?"

"No, Folu," I whispered back, rolling my eyes.

"Wolf, you'd best unsheathe a different kind of weapon if you're going to challenge me!" Taj proclaimed, tapping the grip of her sword.

"Come now, we're not all barbarians! Well, at least I'm certainly not a barbarian! The foxes are a bit of a borderline case-"

"Ah, the Alphate! Truly the cradle of civilization!" I shot back. "Endless steppes East of Lupercal with nothing more than the occasional nomadic raiding party for company, Far-Eastern dog client states ruled by despotic, inbred mutants; and Middle-Eastern tributaries that the Alphate bribes endlessly so they can desperately claim the Alphate stretches further on the map than it really does. And now we can add cheating at card games to that list of noble accomplishments for the great Kutlar Alphate!"

"ENOUGH!" Luce shouted. "That sailor who played with us probably slip-"

The ships suddenly jerked violently and I was flung into the air just before everything went black.

I was awake but blind. Something was dragging me under, deeper into the abyss.

I tried to breathe but salty brine was all I could inhale.

Water all around me, swallowing me up.

The damned sea, it knew I despised it, now it would try and kill me. Play one final deadly joke on me.

I couldn't tell if anyone else was around me, I had no time to check. I let one gasp of air escape and felt the bubbles move a certain direction, which I now knew was up. I turned around and began sweeping my arms and kicking my legs for dear life.

My chest was starting to hurt and fear was infesting my mind. I prepared myself to slam into a piece of the ship, for there was no sign of moonlight above, politely informing me that I'm sealed in my watery tomb for the rest of my short life.

My clothes and my fur were heavy, but I kept on stroking, following the invisible trail to what I prayed was the surface.

Just as my lungs were about to give out, I felt wind sweep across my nose as it emerged from the depths and I gasped for coveted air. I was not a praying fox, but in that moment I could not help myself but utter a prayer to Vulpa, Divine Patroness of the sea, before chancing on a floating piece of the former ship and grabbing hold of it.

The waves were strong and the torrential downpour didn't cease for a second. If the ship was anywhere around me, I couldn't see it between the rain and the darkness of the night. I had no compass nor could I see the stars. All I could do was wait, desperately cling onto the driftwood as it rolled along with the waves and pray that I'd be delivered safely.

I am not a praying fox, as I've mentioned numerous times, but I will give whatever respect is due towards chance itself, for there is no skill involved with surviving a shipwreck and being thrown to the mercy of the waters.

The storm, the very thing that had threatened my very life, had saw fit to throw me a blessing in return. Once the weather had cleared, I found that I had been tossed a good deal towards shore by the waves, so much so that I could see land just below the gently rising sun on the horizon. East, that would be where Dalmatia should be.

I slowly paddled the driftwood closer to shore, making sure to take my time so as to not tire myself out. The waters were quiet after the storm and I didn't have to fight very hard.

So ecstatic was I, that I started humming and whistling a patriotic song of the Republic as I paddled, interrupted only occasionally by a slap of water across my snout, which I took in good cheer.

Eventually, I reached the rock-covered beach and collapsed onto the ground, grabbing at the small patch of sand and letting it fall down from my palms.

"I will never go on a ship again!" I promised to myself aloud.

My ear twitched as it caught wind of the distant sound of horse-hooves beating against dirt, just up a shallow hill and through a small patch of trees to the right.

I darted across the beach, towards the hill and hoping to hide beneath their sight, making sure to run across the wet patches of sand so that the waters would swallow up my footprints. It was still dark out, but the sun was already over the horizon and soon there would be no place to hide out in the open.

Luck favored me once more when I rounded along the base of the hill, finding a small, flooded cavern. I slid into it, couching beneath the short, jagged ceiling. There was a small little hold in the cavern that allowed me to peer onto the beach as I waited for the patrol to pass.

The hoof-beats slowed down and then muffled. It was difficult to tell over the crash of waves on the beach whether they had left or whether they were taking a ride on the sands. I could have sworn I heard sand sifting but couldn't tell, not until I saw the head of a black stallion poke into view.

The rider was distant, but I could tell right away what he was from the orange light of his torch. Broad muzzle, short ears, and gray fur.

I had landed in the Alphate-controlled section of Dalmatia.

And I had no idea how far away I was from the Republic.