[Mock-Fiction] V - Fures Misericordiam

Note: Please read the Formal Notice movella. It should be on the list on the right hand side.

Aye. Tis me again.

Cover by Secrets Unfold


30. 28 – The Wound of Responsibility

Scr-a-pe. Scr-a-pe. Scr-a-pe.


Passers-by turned sharply to Mariqah as she sat to a side, off the road near the Old Avery, sharpening her sword. She’d so much leisure time, Mariqah had little else to do.

“Ahoy, Mariqah!” called a gruff voice, “Care for company?”

Mariqah looked up, the scraping stopping abruptly, and smiled, “Afternoon; Thatch, Kidd. I don’t know. It don’t take too many to sharpen a piece o’ metal.”

Thatch and Kidd sat next in front of her.

Kidd said, her voice boyish enough to disguise her true gender, “Where’d you get a knife like that, anyway?”

Mariqah held the sword upright, so that it caught the light of the afternoon sun, “Far away from here. I got this from the deserts of Arabia. Damascus, Syria,” she replaced the Damascus back on her thigh and drew the sharpening rock against the blade’s edge, the rhythmic scraping beginning anew, “You don’t get better swords anywhere else.”

“How much did it cost you?” asked Thatch.

“Cost me? My mentor gave me this after I knocked him top-side!” she scoffed fondly at the memory, and then pondered on her mentor, “I’ve yet to pay the man this year’s sum.”


“You’re still paying him?” said Kidd, surprised, “How come?”

“He’s a nomad. He don’t need much to go on living. Very much prefers grasping at straws. But he likes good tools and expensive weapons. And sheep. He’s very fond of sheep.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Does he… does he demand payment?”

“Psht, demand payment! The man wouldn’t ask for his life at the point of death, let alone something as petty as money! No. I just feel indebted to him. If it wasn’t for my mentor, I’d be dead about…” she paused for thought, “I don’t know. A hundred times over? Two hundred, perhaps?” Mariqah shurgged, “I’ve made my good deal of enemies, so.”


“Madam!” came a hurrying voice, “Madam, Captain Kenway calls for you! He says it’s urgent!”

“What’s he had trouble with?” said Mariqah, rising to meet the sailor, sheathing her sword and slinging her drawstring on her back, “The scrubbin’ of his deck?”

The sailor ignored her, “You’re to meet him in the captain’s cabin.”
“A’right,” she said, “I’ll catch you up; Thatch, Kidd.”


* * * * *


On seeing Mariqah approach the dock, Edward raised his head, “Mari! Your transport’s come!” he called.

Mariqah climbed up the rope ladder and onto the deck. She walked with Edward to his cabin.

“It’s here?” she mumbled, her face blanched.

“Aye,” said Edward, “like we saw in the warehouse. Only… different,” they entered the cabin, Edward shut the door.


There it stood. The portal home. Like a pool of whiteness, standing upright – nonsensically in the middle of all dimensions.

“Well, it’s what you’ve been waiting for,” said Edward.

“Aye,” Mariqah said, barely above a whisper.

Edward sighed, exasperated, “Does nothin’ please you, woman!” he snapped.

“I–” she paused, “Never… never mind,” Mariqah made motion to leave.

Edward grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards, so that his face was close and level with hers, “You’ve been buggering about this portal your whole stay here!” he said angrily, “Why do you frown at the sight of it now, eh? What does it take, Mari?”

She turned her face away from him and didn’t reply.

“If you don’t want to go, then don’t,” he said, “Stay!”

“But… but my responsibilities.”

“Oh, sod your responsibilities, Mari! Think of yourself for once!”
“No… no, Edward,” she moved away as Edward loosened his grip, “I’ll not be selfish at the expense of my lads. Not again. I have to help… even if I don’t want to,” she looked up, “But, God damn it, I’m going to miss you.”
“So…” Edward paused, “so this is good-bye, then? Just like that?”

“How else was this going to happen?”

He frowned, and said, “Well, you won’t be doing all the missing, Mari.”


She shook her head, “You won’t miss me, Edward.”

“Come on, Mari, is that really how low your opinion of me is?”
“No, Edward, I… you… you won’t remember me.”

Yes, I will! Jaysus, Mari, of course I will!”

“No,” she raised her hands, and took a breath, “I’m saying you don’t have a choice.”
Edward paused, “…What?”

“See that whiteness?” she pointed at the portal, “It’s going to wipe your memory of me. I never happened, Edward. Not to you. Not to history.”
“But…” Edward paused, “but…” Mariqah remained silent, as she watched Edward mouth the words Darim said all those minutes, hours, days, months ago, “I want to remember you.”


She touched his face and smiled sadly, “We can’t always have what we want. Ours is a life of struggle, not comfort,” she turned to leave.

“Tell me something, Mari,” Edward called after her, “Something, please? You know my future. You know what I am, what I’ll become. Give me some incline of what you know. And since I’ll forget… well, what use is there of keeping myself from me?”

Mariqah paused and then said, “There’s a small chance that your memory will resurface, and I may become real to you. Think of it as this: When a ship is wrecked, everyone drowns. Yet, there may be a lone survivor. Survival, in this case, may be fatal to your future. And mine,” she looked at him, “Do you understand?”

“A-aye,” Edward stared at the floor.
“Don’t fret, Edward James Kenway. You’ll leave this world – all your debts, paid; all your wrongs, righted; and all your wounds, sealed.”


“But what does that…?” but before Edward could ask, she was gone.

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