* * *
It was not until the smell of salt being carried upon the sea air drifted over his fleet that Thu’Ra looked up from his trance. Eba smiled at him upon sight of the open water. The chosen nodded a number of times and looked back to ensure his vast fleet of minute reed crafts were still in his company.
“Your mind will be at ease soon enough, Thu’Ra.” The giant exhaled lightly through his crooked nose, his captain’s words brought a light grin to his face.
“My mind will be at ease when we’re home, Eba. I pray for the day to come when Atl’As relieves me of my duties, the day I can live in peace with my family... I fear that day may never come.” Eba released a tight rasp of breathe from between his lips.
“Who would replace you, chosen? You are the embodiment of our golden age! We all know you‘re the son the king of Atl’An should’ve had.” Thu’Ra shook his head and glanced about the reed boats.
“Your tongue will be the death of you one day, captain.”
“I speak the truth, Thu’Ra.” His words were dismissed as the fleet of bow ships made their way out of the delta, back towards the warships of Poseidon. All about them the debris of their enemy floated upon the Parting Sea. Corpses lay face down amidst the flotsam, the crude vessels which had not been sunk lay immobile in the water, ruined by the Atlantean weapons of war. The sight caused a strand of guilt to pick at the chosen’s conscience as he was hauled up the starboard bowel of his ship, back to the safety of the reed work gangway.
“Secure the vessels!” Thu’Ra bellowed out his commands across the ocean. The less he paid heed to his thoughts the easier it was for him. “How are the waters to the north, Tem’Rus?”
“The waters remain calm, chosen!” The young male looked down and smiled at his leader, it was an honour to hear the giant say his name.
“Make haste, men! There is much left to do under this sun, may Poseidon grant us the fortune to pursue our endeavour without trouble, so we may return home to our loved ones!” All about the ocean his warriors cheered, rowing back towards their own gigantic reed ships, hundreds of the light brown men began to clamber up the bowels returning to their posts.
Once all were aboard, the chosen gave command to begin their course north, towards the lands resting along the northern coasts of the Parting Sea. His desire to be away from these waters grew with each passing moment, though knowledge that he would be back in the company of his life partner and sons before this lunar cycle ended kept his spirits alive, filling him with a great determination to see Atl’As’ plan through to the finish.