Eryshae

ε૨ყรɦαε
Vael
Boat Docks

Vael rested her palms lightly on the cool counter of the boathouse reception, her eyes drifting past the glass doors where the sunlight danced over rows of masts swaying in the sea breeze. The faint, salty tang of the ocean rolled in with the wind, mingling with the faint scent of varnished wood and sun-warmed rope. Sam stood beside her, his presence a steady warmth at her side, but she took the lead in the conversation.

"What kind of boat would you recommend we borrow?" she asked the receptionist, her tone polite but tinged with excitement. "Something for a calm morning sail… just the two of us."

The man behind the counter, a lean figure with sun-creased skin and a cap pulled low over his brow, leaned forward. His gaze flicked between Vael and Sam before a knowing smile creased his face. "Well, if you want something stable, fast, and still small enough to handle comfortably, I'd recommend our trimaran. She's built for speed but won't toss you around like a racing dinghy. Three hulls, very steady on the water. You'll get a smooth ride and plenty of space to relax."

Vael's eyes lit up at the description. She glanced toward Sam, catching the glimmer of interest in his eyes. "A trimaran," she repeated, tasting the word like a promise. "Sounds perfect."

The receptionist nodded. "She's moored at the far end of the dock; white and blue paint, name's Sea Whisper. I'll have her ready for you in fifteen minutes. You'll find she handles like a dream once you catch the wind."

Vael exchanged a glance with Sam, the unspoken thrill of adventure passing between them. "We'll take her," she said, her voice carrying that quiet certainty she often used when she'd already made up her mind.

Sam's arm brushed against hers as they stepped back from the counter. The air outside was brighter, sharper, the sunlight dazzling off the rolling water. Vael could already picture the trimaran cutting through the waves, the wind tugging at her hair, and Sam's hand steady at the helm beside her.

The marina stretched before them like a glittering invitation; rows of masts swaying gently, lines clinking against metal in a lazy rhythm, the air rich with the tang of salt and the faint aroma of varnished wood. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their cries threading through the low hum of boat engines and the murmur of sailors tending to their craft.

Vael's steps slowed as they followed the dock toward a wide berth at the far end, where the Sea Whisper waited. The trimaran's three slender hulls gleamed under the midday sun, their clean white surfaces catching shards of reflected light from the rippling water. Its central deck stretched wide and inviting, flanked by taut mesh netting that dipped gently under the rhythm of the waves. The sails, neatly furled for now, bore a pale cream hue that hinted at many days under sun and wind.

She took in every detail; the way the polished teak rails glowed with warmth, the way the rigging hummed ever so slightly in the breeze, the way the boat seemed to breathe as the water lapped at her sides. The Sea Whisper didn't just sit in the water; she swayed with a kind of living grace, as though eager to be set loose.

Sam's hand tightened on hers, his eyes glinting with a fondness that wasn't just for her. "You know," he began, his voice carrying that easy rhythm she'd learned meant a story was coming, "this reminds me of a trip with my dad a few years back. We did a race across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Started early, the wind was perfect, the water was like glass. But the best part wasn't the race; it was the night after."

They stopped at the edge of the dock, the trimaran's name painted in curling script along her hull. Vael looked at him, the breeze tugging playfully at her hair.

"We moored at a little marina on the eastern side," Sam continued, his gaze drifting out over the water as though he could still see it. "Everyone who'd been in the race came together; strangers, friends, all of us smelling like salt and sunscreen. Someone broke out a bottle of rum, and before long there were piles of crabs, oysters on the half shell… laughter echoing across the docks." He smiled faintly. "We ended up sleeping on the netting that night. No cabin, no walls; just the sound of the bay, the stars overhead, and the water rocking us to sleep. Woke up to the sunrise over the water, then sailed back across in a steady breeze. One of those days you can't recreate, no matter how you try."

Vael felt his words wrap around her like the scent of sea air; warm, vivid, and just a little wild. She glanced at the Sea Whisper again, her fingers brushing the smooth, sun-warmed railing. "Sounds like you've already made memories on boats like this." Sam grinned. "Guess it's time to make new ones."

The wooden planks of the dock gave a hollow clunk beneath their steps as they reached the Sea Whisper. Up close, the trimaran was a thing of understated grace; slender white hulls with a faint pearlescent sheen, taut lines coiled neatly along cleats, and the broad mesh netting between the hulls swaying gently with the lapping tide. The scent of salt and varnished wood mingled with a faint tang of seaweed drifting in from the marina's edge.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Sam steadied Vael's hand as she stepped aboard, the boat rocking lightly under their combined weight. The netting gave a soft bounce beneath her feet, and she felt the sun warm on her face, the faintest spray in the air promising the freedom of open water. Sam moved with easy familiarity; checking the lines, loosening a sail cover, slipping the tiller's lock free; his every motion smooth, almost instinctive.

As the sails were hoisted and caught the first playful breath of wind, the Sea Whisper began to glide, cutting through the calm harbor waters toward the open expanse. The marina's chatter and gull calls softened behind them, replaced by the rhythmic splash against the hulls. Vael let her fingers trail in the sea, the chill biting playfully at her skin.

Sam looked at her then, eyes narrowing just slightly; not from suspicion, but from the quiet awe of sharing this moment. "Today," he said, his voice low over the wind, "feels like it's going to be one of those memories too." The bow of the Sea Whisper broke into the open water, sails billowing fuller now. The motion deepened, the wind threading through their hair, the world narrowing to the two of them, the trimaran, and the horizon ahead.

The Sea Whisper cut through the waves with a steady, graceful ease, the trimaran's slender hulls skimming across the water as if the boat barely weighed a thing. The warm salt spray caught in the sunlight, scattering tiny diamonds that danced on the breeze and settled like a kiss on their skin. Sam stood at the helm, his hands steady on the polished wooden wheel, but every so often he glanced back to see Vael standing at the bow, her emerald hair loose and streaming like a banner behind her.

Vael laughed; a rich, bubbling sound that seemed to harmonize with the rhythm of the sea itself. She threw her head back and let the wind catch her, eyes closed, the sun warming every inch of her skin. The boat swayed beneath them, rocking gently with the tide, and for a few moments, the world felt as if it had shrunk to just the two of them and the endless expanse of blue.

Sam's lips curved into a smile at the sight. He stepped forward and reached out, fingers brushing through the strands of hair that had slipped loose from her braid. "You look like you belong here," he said softly, his voice almost lost beneath the rush of the wind.

Vael opened her eyes, sparkling with mirth. "I could say the same about you, Captain." She stepped closer, the soles of her bare feet sliding slightly on the slick deck, and her hand found his. The warmth of her skin against his sent a quiet thrill coursing through him, steady and sure like the tides. Their fingers intertwined, strong and tender all at once. The boat dipped to starboard and Sam steadied them, steadying himself too. "How long have we been out here?"

"Long enough for the world to slow down," Vael answered. "Long enough to forget everything but this moment." The salty breeze carried the scent of ocean and wild herbs from the distant shore. Vael inhaled deeply and exhaled, releasing the tension that had built up over weeks.. Sam watched the way her chest rose and fell, how the sun traced patterns of light across her cheekbones. He felt a fierce gratitude for this time, these stolen hours where nothing mattered beyond the salt on their tongues and the spray on their faces.

She turned and leaned into the curve of the railing, a playful glint in her eyes. "Race you to the mast?" she challenged, the teasing lilt in her voice tugging at his heart. Sam laughed, a low, joyous sound that matched the creak of the rigging. "You're on." Vael pushed off with a strong sweep of her legs, the boat tilting beneath her as she bounded forward. Sam chased after her, muscles moving with a grace and strength that surprised even him. The deck seemed to narrow and expand with their movements, the horizon stretching infinitely ahead.

When they reached the mast, Vael was already clinging to the ropes, her fingers working with practiced ease to adjust the sails. Sam joined her side by side, hands moving in tandem as they trimmed the canvas to catch the shifting wind. Their breath mingled in the salty air, eyes locking in a silent, wordless conversation.

The boat surged forward, the sails snapping taut, and the wind roared in their ears as the Sea Whisper raced across the waves. Sam felt his heart pound, not just from the thrill of speed, but from the closeness of Vael beside him; the way her hand brushed his arm, the curve of her smile as she leaned into the wind.

As the afternoon deepened, the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. Vael slid an arm through Sam's and rested her head against his shoulder, soft and warm. They sailed in comfortable silence, the boat rocking gently beneath them, the world falling away until there was only this; wind, water, and the steady beat of two hearts learning to move as one.

The spray caught in Vael's hair again, and she closed her eyes with a sigh, lips curving into a smile that spoke of contentment and something deeper, something unspoken yet profoundly felt. Sam tightened his grip on her hand, a silent promise echoed in the salt air and the setting sun. For now, they were simply here; free, unburdened, and entirely alive.

For a long while, they stayed there, the boat steady and sure beneath them, as waves sparkled and danced under the afternoon sun. Vael's head rested against Sam's shoulder, and he felt the steady rise and fall of her breath, a quiet reassurance. The sun dipped lower, softening the light into molten gold. The scent of salt and seaweed filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cedarwood from the boat's hull. Sam tilted his head, catching the sound of Vael humming; a melody sweet and low, carrying with the wind, weaving into the sea's timeless song.

He kissed the top of her head, his voice a husky whisper. "Promise me we'll always find time like this. Just us, the sea, and nothing more." Vael looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears and fierce hope. "I promise."

The horizon stretched endlessly, painted in hues of coral and amber. The Sea Whisper sailed on, carrying them farther from the world they knew, deeper into a realm where only the wind and waves held sway; and where their hearts beat strong, tethered to each other in the vastness of the open water.