Setting sail 18-Late Night with Meryl

The beads parted and a flowing black veil stared back at him. He stared down at her. The black mass held the gaze. No words were said, but when she retreated into her fate reading space, he followed behind. If she was intending to deny him, then she would have said so. Meryl sat within her chair on the far side of the same black table. All the archaic details of the room swirled around him. Rows of beads hanging around the room in arrangements of black and purple. Heavy drapes and the intense smell of incense made the room warmer than he could really articulate. Candles cast dancing shadows around him. He pulled out the seat he had sat in months ago and sassed her heavily.

“You will speak and be heard now, Wilkes Tempest.” Meryl’s voice broke the silence between them.

“Knowing I will only get eight questions before you refuse me, you will appreciate my careful speech.” He adopted her stilted future perfect speech briefly, taking a conscious effort not to leave anything open to interpretation as a question yet. A small chuckle came from her at that. “I am faced with a heavy burden. The women I love have emptied the love from my place of rest. A reckless display of force has burdened those near me. I dare a singular question. Is the fool the arcana ascribed to my entire life?”

“Yes.” She gave a brief affirmation before elaborating. “You will bring countless new beginnings in your own life, in the lives of those you save, and in the lives of those you inspire. It is impressive for a non-oracle to have parsed such a thing.”

One of the eight candles ensconced around the circular room changed from orange to purple. One of eight questions answered. He didn’t know if he would have to wait two months again to ask questions or not, and his current question hadn’t pertained to his future. Just the abject truth of his existence. Brain teasers like this weren’t often his speed, but considering what was at stake he’d slam his mental muscle against the problem until something broke. His home had been empty of warmth for too long already.

“If I am to bring countless beginnings are they all to be for the best?” Wilkes pressed, he could consider his three person love affair with Hannah and Beatrice a new beginning. A question about them all being right would help him decide whether this was a fool’s errand or not.

“As Wilkes Tempest, it is divided. As The Sailor, Wilkes the Champion, as the storm bringer, yes. As elich un raga, As he who is wreathed in rain, no. Your fate is spliced into more than a singular thread to be woven. Your nature is duplicitous as a demigod.” The answer was as cryptic as he expected from someone that had apparently seen his entire future. The titles she mentioned were all impossibly pompous. He didn’t even understand the language she spoke for one of them. It didn’t even sound like it belonged to Abernoth, it was so guttural in comparison. Taking what she said into his consideration he sat silently with her for a moment. His hands rested on the table. He saw her own hands come to rest there. A middle distance kept them from touching, but the intentional closeness was interesting. A total of fifteen minutes passed like that, his restless thinking throwing idea after idea at himself.

“Wilkes Tempest, I know you have many questions for many things, but what particularly drove you is a thing you must broach on your own. I am not capable of answering questions that go unasked.” Meryl urged him. Six candles still cast orange light. He had a majority left. He knew enough about the bonds he was forging to at least keep him from wearing through the treads of his boots. Another question came to his mind.

“The navy has its eyes upon me. Will I be forced into conscription?” Wilkes asked, another candle flipped from orange to purple. Just over half remained as the oracle took a hissing breath before she spoke.

“No.” Was the entire response she gave. He clenched a fist, such a short answer to such a hard question. It was likely an ill omen, but there was surely a reason for that. Whatever manipulation they used couldn’t possibly be good enough to make him do so wilfully. Not when he had yet to wed Beatrice. That was comfort enough. His first unfurled slowly, the knot of worry within it dissipating from his mind.

“How many wives will I have?” Wilkes asked, it was important to know. Considering polygamy wasn’t illegal in the Isles of Thellix it could legally be as many as fell in love with him.

“Twelve varieties of love shall wear bands that belong to the love in your heart.” The oracle spoke plainly to him. Well plainly for gaining the future sight that he will have a dozen weddings. The young sailor blinked at the woman across the table. He shut his mouth hard, clenching his jaw with everything he had. Only four candles remained orange in his favor, meaning he had half of his questions left but hundreds he wanted answered. Where would he find twelve women? How would he manage such a large harem? Can he even satisfy that many women in a single night, or will they take shifts at his bedside? Would he outlive some of them? How many children was he going to have? Where would they live considering his current shack was impossibly too small for that? He put his head into his hands for a moment. He dared another question, to be sure that within the vague meaning of ‘twelve varieties of love’ he understood they’d end in marriage.

“Will I uphold my promise to Beatrice?” Wilkes asked nervously. Another candle hissed and changed colors. A bead of sweat ran down his face. Three questions left.

“Yes.” Meryl said sternly. There seemed to be more she wanted to say, but was electing not to.

“Have I met all of the women I will marry?” Wilkes pressed his luck, maybe he could forge a clan of thellin to boost the population something fierce. With two left in the chamber he could ask about the voyage to and from Osan and get information about it.

“No, and you will not as long as you walk with only your own two feet.” Was the cryptic answer, thankfully that seemed to fully explain the extent of the answer comparatively. Only walking with his own two feet was confusing. Considering how his dreams seemed to drift at the whims of the divine, an inkling grew in his mind. Perhaps he could learn to control where his dreams drift to.

“What does that mean? Wait shit!” Wilkes swore as another candle flickered to purple.

“You will learn to be more than you are, that the space between things can be persuaded due to your strength and nature. In due time, you will drift along the greatest of tides as you please.” She answered him. The longer answer promised future greatness alone. He stared at the lone orange candle in the deep amethyst wash from its compatriots. His last question needed to pertain to both leaving and returning, without being overly general. His fingers drummed against the table. The silk cloth across it was smoother than anything he’d felt in recent history.

“Meryl, I know already I do not have a tongue coated in silver enough to gain knowledge of the voyage both toward and returning from Osan. As such I will ask another sort of question. I leave my voyage out to chance and the will of mortals. I ask something I have had a sneaking suspicion of. When you first read my future, a card depicting the lovers showed a woman in black cloth and a man resembling myself. On your lovers card, are we depicting as the height of two people in love?” Wilkes asked as calmly as he could manage. He had a hunch the answer was yes. Considering Beatrice would permit him to see the oracle romantically by her own admission, and in addition to that he had twelve loves to find in his lifetime… too much evidence was stacked in front to leave it to simple musings. A direct confrontation was the easiest solution then.

“Yes, Wilkes. As you come to know me, our love will be deeper than any sea. It will stretch across bounds neither of us fully understand, and bring forth a future I cannot see. It is why I showed you my unveiled face back at the festival. I wanted to see you, without the obscuring veil marring the sight.” Meryl admitted. She shifted nervously in her chair. The smile that had previously left his face bloomed slowly but surely. He had thought such would be the case. His hands found hers atop the table. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb like he had with every woman he’d found himself enthralled with. The lacey black gloves covering her hands were soft, he traced the pattern along her palms and saw a visible shudder go through her. “Ahem, it is not particularly appropriate for you to be doing this with what else plagues you.”

“You’re right, you’re right. One misunderstanding was bad enough. If either Beatrice or Hannah found out about it, I’m likely to be cut down before I find the other nine of you.” Wilkes admitted, pulling his hand away. Meryl’s fingers stretched out to extend the touch. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Knowing it is wrong, and not wanting it to end are not exclusive feelings.” Meryl told him. She gently rubbed the palm he had touched with her opposite hand. As if trying to rub the point of contact permanently into herself. “ I… could remove my veil for you again now… if you’d like.” The oracle’s hands nervously fiddled with each other and the gloves. Glances at her pasty skin beneath the cloth sent a jolt through him. She was offering herself to him now, even if it was only to truly know her as much as he knew anyone else on the street.

“There won’t be any kind of consequence for you doing that right?” Wilkes asked nervously, with eight candles already flickering purple around them she just giggled at him. Pulling one glove completely off before gently laying it across the table. Her fingers disappeared behind the flowing fabric. She rose slowly and went about extinguishing the candles before lighting them anew. Once the room was washed in the warm glow of normal flames she sat again, across from him.

“Not any that would forbid me from seeing the future, or earning coin from doing so. Admittedly most oracles that see for free for their lovers to be do charge at first. It did not seem fair to charge you, beloved.” Meryl said and he could practically hear her blushing. His eyes went wide at the admission. It finally clicked that in knowing his future, she likely loved him since before she even saw him. He was awestruck at the level of patience she must have had to exercise.

“Meryl, how long have you waited for me to ask that question?”

“I have waited since I first saw the future. You were my first vision, though it was you in a general sense, not the current man before me. I saw a great man, a leader of those burdened with glorious ambition but lacking in means, who made the waves his home. I knew you would be one of the sailors, but not your name. I only knew it was you, when I saw you up on the stage.” She told him, the ungloved hand stretched across the table. Not initiating the contact, but begging for it wordlessly. He reached across, tracing along her exposed forearm to her palm with his middle finger. The slow, intimate touch elicited a second shiver from the oracle. He took her hand into his, and gave a gentle squeeze. Her veil still obscured her face, but he could read her well enough. Her head was at an angle that showed her staring directly at the point of contact.

“Have you not physically touched many people, Meryl?” Wilkes asked her gently, she squeezed his hand and her focus shifted to his face.

“I… am usually only allowed to touch another’s hands for a form of future reading. I am only allowed to hold hands with my future spouse per the instructions from my mistress. Her last apprentice was… overwhelmed by casual physical touch.”

“Ah, guess that makes enough sense. So Meryl I don’t wanna go hurtin’ yer feelings but-”

“I know, I know. You want to love me, but you have to learn to know me first. I’ve already watched us have this conversation… twenty times? Thirty?” Meryl admitted, she didn’t seem crushed by it. Rather she seemed to understand in a way only she could. Only someone who could read his mind would know him better than her. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb again.

“Then let this be the last time you hear this. If fate itself is pulling me to you, I’ll ride along just because I think you’re worth the effort. Whatever gets thrown my way, I’ll do my damndest to bring you a happy future. With a couple of sister wives and a scattering of children to boot.” Wilkes promised her this.

“I know you will. And I’ll wait patiently everyday until it happens.” She squeezed his hand impossibly tight. Almost like she was afraid he was gonna be blown away by too strong of a breeze. Funnily he’d smack any actual breeze that tried aside. He would be her anchor, or at least he would start learning to be.

“Meryl, I don’t want to leave you, but it’s a late hour, and I’m not sure I should stay here too late.” Her grip tightened even further. He squeezed back, hating to have to be the one to break such a tender moment. Yet, all the same, they both knew he was right. “I’ll wait for you at the docks. I’ll be finished with work and look for ya. I know you probably already know that, but I’m gonna tell you anyways.”

“I actually didn’t know that, I uh, couldn’t get past you saying you had to leave each time I watched the conversation. I would uhm, get distracted.” Meryl admitted sheepishly. She put another hand on his singular one. Did she have a thing for hands? Was that a thing in women?

“Distracted by?” He leaned in slightly closer, the table pressed against his waist. The position wasn’t super comfortable, but it would accomplish his goal. He heard the oracle gulp as he drew close. He watched her lean back in the chair a bit, not enough to tip it, but enough to press into its cushioning. “Am I a distraction for you, miss oracle?”

While she mumbled something he began to lean back and watched her slowly lean in. It seemed she was distracted by him. Her hands never left his. He pushed his chair back slightly, and circled the table slowly. Meryl made more confused noises as he approached her. He slipped his hand from between her grasp, and slung his arm around her. Pulling her head into his chest. She took a deep breath and swooned at the sudden closeness. Her hands ran across his abdomen and side, sweeping about like gulls through the sky. Even with the veil he knew she was blushing. He felt her face tilt up to look him in the eyes, with how the light caught her the veil became translucent. The heart shape of her face, the button nose which tented the fabric resting on her. Fearing he would overwhelm her he didn’t cup the side of her face, no matter how badly he wanted to. She whimpered slightly while he swayed with her there. When he heard gentle sobs he pulled back immediately. Her veil was growing damp around the eyes, and he didn’t know how to dry it for her. She waved him off and just rotated the fabric a bit.

“I… haven’t been held since my parents had to give me to my mistress.” Meryl told him shyly

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was that lonely…” He apologized to her, sinking down a bit to be on her level.

“No, no its fine. It was part of the deal. She gave my parents a thousand pieces, and they gave her an apprentice.” Meryl insisted. A look of genuine horror spread across Wilkes’s face. “Did you not know that’s how they make new oracles?”

He shook his head. She sighed and pressed her forehead to his. Her veil was incredibly soft. Probably the same kind of silk they used for the tablecloth. The physical touch seemed to center the impossibly lonely fate-seer. Her hands stayed at her side now, the only point of contact being the one she chose now. The sniffles began to subside slowly.

“The next time you want to be held, just come show up at my house.” Wilkes offered her genuinely, a mix of pity and admiration swelling in his chest. Thinking of how often he made physical contact with the people he cared for. How often he simply just shook hands with people in passing. How she had been denied all of that. Raised to be as distant to the people she speaks to as the futures she describes. “If you think you can be okay with that, I mean.”