"It's a song about ashes..."
Well my dear friends, this is it. This will be the final installment of my first fan-fiction, Haley's Book. I know it's been downright freakin' depressing at times—hey, tragedy—and a lot of stuff has been less than accurate to the game, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not... but I'm sure glad you guys looked past all that and came along for the story anyway. It's been one heckuva ride.
Reviewers, as always, you're the best. You have my thanks forever.
Chapter thirty-seven.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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FORWARD / REEXPEDIR:
Samuel Greys
7, Rayo Sur de Rueda
Torreón, Island/Isla Salida del Sol
off the west coast of the Plains Province / cercano a la costa occidental de la Provincia de las Llanuras
Valua / Valua
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Samuel Greys
Angler's Haunt stock-shop
Northport, Isla de Faro
Central Mid-Ocean / Océano-Centro Central
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2nd day of spring, 84 P.R.
Samuel my friend,
I hope this letter finds you well. Were you able to get a good trade on the moonstones? If you ever find yourself short, remember you're more than welcome to our little quarry here.
Elena and I are both doing fine. We've made some great improvements on the house. The new wing is finally done, and it came in handy. Salvador and Seth came down late this winter with some of Alex's things and most of his books. We seem to have acquired quite the library.
I recall you being concerned about Elena before you left. She's doing much better now. Please forgive her parting words from before. It was hard, for both of us, hearing the news you brought of Alex. But we are grateful you came. It's not every mourning family that can reclaim heirlooms lost to Deep Sky. For that we can't thank you enough.
But as grateful as I am, I still can't deny that seeing Elena's heart so broken couldn't help but shatter my own. First the lives of her parents, and then that of her brother—claimed by pirates. It's more than anyone should bear, and I don't ever want to see her looking so sad again.
Consequently, I have a proposition for you.
I don't know if Alex ever told you what an inflammable ex-navy hooligan his sister has married. I know I'm impulsive, liable to fly into passions at the drop of a hat. But it's a temperament to my liking. How else can the world move but by the will of those living in it?
At any rate, I'm sure you've been aware of the increasing number of reported pirate attacks since the rise of Daccat. They've become especially hostile on the trade-routes outside of Valua.
But the Gulf Province Navy doesn't care a whit. I know there are good, right-minded men in their ranks, but Valua won't help to stem the tide of piracy so long as its own people lack the need for protection. Well good for them, but the rest of the world doesn't have the luxury of impassable borders! While they hole up behind the walls of their cove, everyone else's trade-ships are left to their own devices whenever black sails come bearing down out of the clouds.
It just boils my blood that the only nation to retain some vestige of a navy after the Rains doesn't do a bloody thing about it! They have the means, why not use them? I had joined up hoping to do some good—there's always rebuilding to do, and I had mad dreams of helping to reunify the Six Dominions... I was only a callow sixteen-year-old plebe at the time. But for the love of starlight we're three generations past apocalypse—one would think old grudges would have died out by now. Aside from seeking our own petty profits through the trade-lines, can we not help each other just a little bit more?
I'm sorry for my outburst—like I said, inflammable. I suppose I've always been too idealistic for my own good.
As for my proposition, I trust you remember my ship, the Rogue. I've had her outfitted with a few new toys, and I'm looking to bring in some fresh crewmen for a new enterprise of mine.
In order for us to continue living as freely as we do, Daccat's followers must be dealt with. And as the Gulf Province has elected to remain uninvolved, it seems that the task has been left to the common man. If by any chance you are questioning my mad audacity, then to put it bluntly, yes, I am intending to hunt down and disable the pirating vessels that threaten our livelihood. Call me crazy, that's fine—Elena is kind enough to use the term as a second name for me anyway. But I feel confident with the skills and experience that came with spending a decade in the military. A few close friends of mine have also agreed to join me in this venture. Some have more reason than others, but they all are likewise willing and more than able.
As for compensation, if the theft reports from the trade-lines are any indication, the average buccaneer vessel should hold plenty of gold to go around. But the greater share should go back towards aiding those who lost it in the first place. If we kept it all for ourselves we'd be no better than the pirates. And if the endeavor should prove to be unprofitable, my resources will keep us going; Fairlode's moonstone cache doesn't look to be running dry anytime soon. It's my land, and I'll use it as I see fit.
That is my proposal. To engage in piracy upon pirates. Unconventional, maybe. Ludicrously over-zealous, most definitely. But in light of the fact that no one else is doing anything about it, I cannot remain idle. Not after seeing Elena's face after you gave us the news. Not after wondering how many more heartbroken Elenas Daccat has left in his wake already. The immediate chaos that followed the Rains ended eighty-four years ago. It's time for someone to tell them the looting is over.
After reading Alex's last journal, I have no qualms about extending the invitation to you as well. I could use a mate on my ship like the one described in that book. If that man is still around, I'd be honored to have him sail at my side.
I'll leave the rest to you, my friend. Whatever your choice, I look forward to hearing from you again.
Sincerely your servant,
Diego Dyne
Fairlode Island
Vortex Drifts, Southern End
Southern Mid-Ocean / Océano-Centro Meridional
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Mr. Diego Dyne
Island/Isla Fairlode
southern end of Vortex Drifts / margen meridional de los Despojos del Vórtice
Southern Mid-Ocean / Océano-Centro Meridional
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Twenty-third day of spring, 84 Post Rains.
Warmest greetings, Mr. Dyne,
Well met indeed. I was glad to receive your letter. I am in Valua at present, and my ties and friendships in this place have worn thin in the long time I was away. Reading from you was a shaft in the clouds.
That is good, then, about Elena. I know how painful it is to lose a loved one, but it gladdens me to hear that her spirits have improved. I am certain having her brother's old books does its own part to ease her mind as well. I am curious as to just how big his collections was—it sounds as if you've taken on an entire roomful. Scholar indeed.
And that reminds me—I am going to be sending your letter back with this one. I would request that you keep both of them in the back of the book marked "Derek Haley". I know Mr. Reyes kept letters as well as journals, and I believe he would have liked to have these two as well.
Regarding your proposal, it sounds ambitious to say the least. I do not think you ludicrous, nor do I think you a hooligan. It seems a good-hearted thing you seek. And I do remember your ship. The blue-canvas sails struck me as somewhat eccentric, but she seemed quite hardy and capable. You will have to let me know what modifications you made. You speak of them so lightly it makes me wonder just how deep that cache of yours runs. If you are not careful, your entire island may just be hollowed out with your expenses.
Speaking of which, I must express my thanks for the generosity you showed me before. To be honest, I am very grateful that you refused my refusal to take the moonstones. The gold they turned over has aided me a great deal and brought me quite far. But I have yet a little farther to go before I return to Mid-Ocean. I have some unfinished business with a certain Angelo Perez. I will have more news of that for you later, I am sure, among other things.
In the meantime I will give thought to your proposal. I must admit, your delivery of the idea is very stirring. I believe every man dreams just as deeply for something better in this world. Just do not let your passions run away with you before we meet again. I will return in due season, and I intend to visit Fairlode once more. When I do, I would like to speak with you further about this venture.
Until that time I wish you well. Moons light your way.
Samuel Greys
7, Rayo Sur de Rueda
Torreón, Isla Salida del Sol
de la costa occidental de la Provincia de las Llanuras
Valua
Post Script—I have found a man here who can transcribe musical script. He has notated the song Shanda sang as mentioned in Mr. Reyes' book. I will bring it when I come. Perhaps in time one of you may learn to decipher it.
Samuel Greys
THE END
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Hoo! Wow, done in just under a year. Many thanks to all you Readers for coming along with me through my first fan-fiction!
And an extra special thanks to Reviewers MartiOwlsten, Relik, Desert Lynx, The Real Jack of Hearts, Eyes of the infinite galaxy, Eteryu, Hunter-Killer360, DanikaLareyna, hereforkicks, and Paosheep for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement!
And finally, a few super-duper-ultra-mega-über-thank-you's to
MartiOwlsten, for introducing me to fanfiction-dot-net, for going out and eating sushi with me so I could get a handle of the taste of raw fish, and for making sure I never fall asleep in my cubicle. Thanks a million! Now, all I have to do is introduce you to this wonderful little game I know of called "Skies of Arcadia" and you'll be all set...
Desert Lynx, for always keeping me going and cheering me on whenever I fell into a rut, and for always making sure I'm still alive with all the fun emails. Thanks so much!
Relik, for keeping my imagination alive and inspiring me with her beautiful story, Trade Winds. Thank you for reminding me of what a wonderful world Arcadia can be to write!
And finally to my Dad, on the off-chance he ever reads this, for being my back-up English-Spanish Dictionary, and for taking me hiking on Saturday, December 23, 2006, the one day in twenty blue moons when fog covered the entire Phoenix Valley, and we came up on top of South Mountain, as the sun rose above a surrounding sea of clouds.
Many thanks to you all, and many happy readings and writings.
Contraltissimo