Then, she gives her attention back to the parchment. I move to stand next to her so I can also read it. The chicken scratch is almost ineligible, but I can make out the important parts.
Please help. Bandits. Dead Chest.
Kind regards, Tally.
Tally.
The letter is from Tally, asking us for help.
She needs our help, there’s no way we’re ignoring this. We need to leave immediately.
I don’t wait for Amara to finish reading or to make any decisions. I don't care if I’m currently breaking rank. I’m crossing my way over the ship into the war room, Jude’s unofficial office for navigations. Jude startles with my intrusion, dropping her compass onto the map she was gazing at.
“Cyrus, what brings you in here today?”
“We need to head back to Dead Chest. Now.” My tone is all command, utilising every ounce of control I have.
Her brows scrunch together, confusion evident on her features. “Oh sure, but why?”
Opening my mouth to demand further, I’m interrupted by a voice behind me.
“Thank you, Cyrus.” Amara says, tone clipped, before directing her attention to Jude. “We’ve had word that our help is needed at Dead Chest, how soon can we get there?”
Jude replaces her confusion with a wide grin, turning togaze at her maps once more. “About three days, give or take if the winds are in our favour or not.”
Amara nods, this time I interrupt before she can start talking. “We need to leave as soon as possible.”
It’s only at Amara’s glower, I amend, “Please.”
With one more glance at her map, Jude jumps up from the table.
“Let’s get to turning this ship around then.”
It’s almost been three days. Seventy-two hours of worrying about what’s happening on the island and if Tally is okay.
I’ve been avoiding Amara like the plague, never letting her get too close, outside of the usual crew meetings. After reading the note from Tally more clearly, I understand the urgency and the reason her writing skills were worse than a toddler learning to write.
The fact it’s taken us nearly three days to get within eye sight of Dead Chest has kept my stomach in knots.
Once Jude had the ship turned around and the wind favouring our trip back, we’d all headed towards the war room to discuss what we plan on doing when we got back to Dead Chest.
The whole time– and each time we’ve been in there since– Amara eyed me curiously. It was hard not to fidget under her unwavering stare. It’s not gone unnoticed by the rest of the crew, that I’ve not been myself the last few days.
The cracks in my stone walls grows with every heartbeat it takes for us to get back to the island.
After reading about the incidents that have taken place, Ican only picture the worse that could be happening to Tally right now.
I knew we shouldn’t have left, my whole body was telling me to stay, to not leave. But I allowed my sense of duty and loyalty to dictate what I did. It’s never been a problem before, but this time everything screamed when we left. It’s all my fault.
I’ve always wished that my riotous emotions would quieten, not leaving me a quivering wreck on the inside, to give me peace.
But I didn’t want it to happen like this.
For three months I’ve been an empty shell, unfeeling. Only anger and frustration at myself, riding beneath the surface. This feeling of emptiness is surreal. I’ve never experienced such a thing before. Even when my parents died, I didn’t feel this bone deep emptiness.
I realise how much I fucked up.
I may not be in love with Tally, but there was still an attachment to her. A bone deep attraction and connection that can’t be replaced. Losing her and her companionship hurts. The ache in my chest is the only dominant feeling left behind.
