Here’s another post inspired by one of radicaledward’s writing prompts! It’s been sitting in my drafts for months, so unfortunately I lost the original link to his note. 😅
I was, once again, inspired by ’s latest post on world-building. Some of the writing prompts I find here are helpful to explore certain characters or world-building for my Sky Pirates story. Here, I explored Gerrit’s past, who is connected to Captain Dirk of the prompt The Heart Goes Last.
It might be counter to Scoot’s advice, but I find it fun getting to know my supporting characters through these stories!
I was the fastest runner in my village.
Every Saturday, we would run from the Kruis Fountain to Grenzeloos Lake. It was no effort commanding my stumpy, light legs to sprint those 2 kilometers.
On the days I ran alone, I dashed from my home straight to Grenzeloos. I’d sit there for hours imagining a world beyond Frisian waters. Our parents always reminded us not to be fooled by the seemingly endless lake. If we swam too far, the horizon would pull us down into the pit of the skies. I thought a lot about what was below our world.
I was a national sailor - a work reserved for Frisians with no purpose. I went wherever I was told to go, and I followed every order from my captain. I did the bare minimum so I could enjoy me little pleasures.
Then something changed in Taino.
It was an unspoken rule to upsell the newly discovered nations. Iberia maintains that they are second-class citizens - even their own people who settled in the new land.
The Tainos saw through us and insisted on a fair trade. It’s nearly impossible to tame a crew full of bloodlust, and in my efforts to quell their thirst I was overtaken by stacks of timber. Better my leg than their blood.
The captain decided that the best penance was to deny medical attention, but the damage rotted me from the inside. It’s a goddamn miracle that carpenter did not bleed me to death during the extraction.
“Brokefoot” became my new name on the ship. That wooden leg might as well have been my dead one, considering I had to drag that shit everywhere. I couldn’t trade anymore, and the captain agreed to let me go as soon as we were back in Frisia. I was to collect my pension and return an aimless civilian.
But he decided to let me go sooner.
Next thing I knew I woke up in a small boat with some pieces of bread and a half-full canteen, stranded in the open skies with aurora borealis as my cover. If I had not crossed paths with Captain Dirk, I would have satisfied my childhood curiosity about the endless skies.
He had Leonor built me a proper leg. It ain’t quite like my natural, but it’s less lugging around than that old piece of shit. I’m not the fastest runner these days, but a quartermaster ain’t a bad trade.
I like it! Count me in as wanting to see more of the sky-rates. :D
I love how you’re exploring this world and I cannot wait to read more!! This was an absolute treat