Imagine that part 2
To be or what to be - Why does it have to be a race between safety and sanity?
This is a fan-fiction set on Terahnar the world created by L.E. Modesitt for his Imager series. I have no rights to any of it and don’t claim to. I just wanted to see what a story about a MTF transgender person set in the time just after Rex Regis consolidated Lydar into Solidar would be like.
Special thanks to Ane Mouse and Miya Jeahle for critiques and editing. Anything that's wrong is my fault for changes made after editing.
Imagine that
(2)
To be or what to be
Why does it have to be a race between safety and sanity?
“Jolie, take this food to the captain,” said cook, using a large knife to point to a tray, “and fill this mug with the ale from the small cask.” I picked a clean mug from a peg and filled it with the dark ale, put it on the tray and headed aft trying not to stumble and spill the ale or have the food slide off the plate. I’d already had a cane across my backside for dumping the tray on the deck when the ship lurched into the space between two waves.
I was on my way to Westisle where I hoped that my life would change for the better. I suppose it could get worse, but I didn’t even want to think about that, much less imagine it. The reason I was making this journey was because when I thought about something, really focused on it, it appeared out of thin air. I was an imager. That’s what people like me are called here in Solidar, so I tried to think about things getting better, not worse.
I was fortunate, less than a year ago I would have been doomed to slavery in the palace of the Antiarch of Antiago. The choice was life as a salve-imager in the palace or death because the Antiarch had so decreed: all imagers must serve the Antiarch or suffer death. All that had changed when an army led by an imager from Tilbar, the land to the east, had attacked and conquered Kephria then marched west to Llantiago capturing all the major towns and cities along the way. When they reached Llantiago they turned the palace upside down and buried everyone in it under the ruins of the palace.
Now, the Telerians were offering a gold coin to anyone who delivered an imager to the camp on Westisle, an island in the bay of Llantiago. My papa gave two silvers to the captain of this ship, out of the gold coin he received from the council for the promise to hand me over to the imagers on Westisle. It was made clear from the start that I wasn’t a passenger that I had to earn my way. Because of my size and lack of strength I would earn my passage as a cabin boy. This meant that I had the lowest place in the ranks of the crew and was subject to orders from almost anyone. Because I could clean and cook I spent most of my time in the galley preparing food; fetching this and that, cleaning, washing and all the other things that need to be done to keep 50 men fed.
I suppose the only good thing was that I had a special cabin, a metal box with a hammock for sleeping. It had a low bench with a single shelf’ It was big enough for me to almost stand upright. Its width was just wide enough for me lie on the bench with me feet on on wall and my head touching the other. It wasn’t wide enough for me to stretch out my arm at shoulder height. When I wasn’t working I was expected to be in the cabin. The first few days were pretty rough and I used a pail catch the contents of my stomach every time I was shut in the little cabin after I finished my work. I learned to drink the ale I served to the sailors and that kept me going until I got used to the rolling and swaying and leaping of the ship.
I was told that the box was especially made to hold an imager and his imaging inside the box. Apparently an imager’s nightmare could destroy a ship. I remembered the candle I had imaged and understood that an open flame wasn’t something you wanted below decks in a wooden ship.
We had been sailing for 5 days and I had finally gotten my sea legs, or at least overcome my seasickness. It was just after daybreak, I had just delivered tea to the captain and was headed back to the galley when I heard a bell ringing and saw men running every-which way. There was a shout from the lookout that a sail was seen somewhere behind us. The captain ordered more sails to be added and the men pulled the lines and the ship changed course again and again. It seemed that the ship was almost going as fast as the wind. Over the next two glasses the captain would look at the ships following us then call out orders to make the ship move faster. There were two ships and they were getting closer and closer to us. Then the order to get ready to fight was called and everyone grabbed short swords or staffs. I was told to go to the galley, help the cook and stay out of the way. I was just about to go down a ladder when there was a boom and a crash and the next thing I knew I was in the water. I grabbed what looked like a hatch that was floating next to me and hung on.
From water level I could see that one of the ships had come up to the one I had been on and men were cutting at each other with swords, hitting and beating each other with staffs and yelling and shouting. I crawled onto the hatch so that it made a small raft and noticed that the current was moving me away from both ships. I just hung on and hoped that I might be rescued before I drowned or that I would end up on a beach and not crushed against some rocky shore.
I hung on to the hatch all day and into the night.
I must have gone to sleep because I woke up to birds screaming over my head and the sun was rising. I was thirsty and hungry and my legs and hands were sore from rubbing against the wood. I could move around a little to let the bruised parts get away from the wood but I couldn’t find any comfortable position. I just hung on and wished that I’d get to shore sometime soon.
I must have dropped off to sleep because I thought I heard the sound of waves and it got louder and louder and the raft begin to pitch and roll more violently. The next thing I knew I was on my hands and knees in the surf just a few yards off shore. I stumbled out of the waves and up the beach beyond the water’s edge. I was so tired that I just collapsed as darkness overcame me.
The sun in my face woke me early the next day, although my growling stomach would have done the job if I hadn’t been already awake. I walked along the beach, away from the sun because that was the way toward Westisle. Before long the beach gave way to rocks and brush, which hurt my feet. I wonder if I can image something to protect my feet? After all, if I’m really an imager, shouldn’t I be able to manage some sandals? I felt them under my feet and looked down and saw leather laces and bent down and tied them around my ankles.
Now I needed some food and water. I started looking for late season Bask Berries that could be found close to the sea. They were tart but had enough sweetness to give me some energy. After eating several handfuls I found a stream coming down a rock face in a little waterfall and drank and then washed the salt and sand from all over my body.
After washing my clothes, I draped them over some bushes to dry out. I sat on a rock ledge, and looked at myself, I was skinny, slightly blue skinned and covered with goosebumps.. I needed a fire to get warm, so I started collecting dead branches from trees and stacked them on the end of the ledge where it ended against a vertical rock face. I needed some way to set the wood on fire. Why not image a candle, just like the one I had imaged before that caused me to be in this fix? Then it was there, in the middle of the pile of wood, which started to catch fire. After putting some larger wood on the fire I was able to get warm. I had to let my front then back get warm in turn.
The nuts and berries I had eaten were not very filling. I wished I had a nice sized fish to cook. I could almost smell it and taste it. Then it was there on the ledge in front of me. I wedged it between some sticks and positioned it over the fire. I almost burned my fingers getting the cooked fish into my mouth.
I had fire, I had food and water, now I needed to make some decisions and a plan.
I had survived being cast off the ship and washed up on shore. I was probably about half way along the coast between Hassyl, where I got on the ship and Llantigo, our destination. If Westisle was a safe place for imagers, I needed to get there and ask for their help.
How was I to do that? The obvious answer was to walk there. But what chance did a skinny, teenage boy have? Would anyone help me? Then I had an idea, what if I looked like a girl? I would tell who ever I met that had been my way to my uncle who was an imager on Westisle and been shipwrecked. I’d get a lot more sympathy as a girl and if the first person I talked to was a woman, I might even get taken under her wing so to speak and get sent to the isle. Besides, in my mind I was a girl. If my body looked like a girl, then my girlishness would work for me instead of against me.
First things first then: I remembered what I had done that night and I put my hands over my breasts and imagined that I had breasts a little bigger than my older sister. Then I felt them under my hands! I was a little dizzy but it passed quickly. I knew what girls have, or don’t have between their legs because I’d taken care of my little sister and my sisters and I would go swimming in the creek in our birthday suits and wash each other. I put my hands over my boy parts and thought about the way my older sister’s body looked. As I focused, I could feel my body change.
There was a really sharp pain and I doubled over gasping for breath. I hurt so much, but I couldn’t even get my breath to cry out or scream. My eyes were streaming tears as I breathed slowly in and out. My head felt like it was spinning. I must have passed out because the sun had moved across the sky when I opened them again.
Looking down at myself when I sat up, I had nothing between my legs, just a slit. I looked like a skinny girl, at last what I could see. I usually kept my hair in a ponytail and it was as long as Odela’s so I didn’t have to worry about doing anything to it. Even though my clothes were damp, I put them on to keep a little warmer,
I imaged another fish to cook, a fire to cook it on and a stone mug to hold water to drink. I was very hungry and thirsty, but as soon as I finished eating I imaged more wood on the fire to get it and the rocks hot. As I got warmer I went right to sleep.
While I slept I dreamed: I was riding along in a wagon, talking to a young girl. We were both sitting on bags in the wagon, just behind the bench where a man and woman were sitting. Suddenly I man with a spear jump out from behind a tree and run at us with the spear pointing toward me. I screamed and suddenly I was awake. It took me a little while to remember where I was and why I was here. I imaged more wood on the fire, which was getting low and went back to sleep.
In the morning I didn’t remember much about the dream, but I was glad I had gotten back to sleep.
Comments
Imager
I've stayed away from that series since he is one of those authors who go on and on without bring the thing to an end. Seven books and counting sorta says it all. On the other hand I enjoyed your story.
hugs
Grover