Sally, Part 29

Sally, Part 28

The boy was still talking when Stacey walked away.  The horizon seemed to sway within the framework of Stacey's hazy vision.  He was trying not to cry, as he staggered down streets and occasionally into people.  He couldn't hold back anymore and started to call out, "Sally!  Sally!  Sally, where are you?"  Of course, he got no answer, but strange looks, and the occasional murmur of 'crazy' or 'drunk.'

It had been years, but Stacey could still remember the face of that little baby.  The way he drank from the makeshift bottle, the way he stayed so quiet, as if he knew that a sound would get them both killed, the way he cooed and smiled, Stacey remembered it all as he staggered through the street.  He didn't stop either.  He went past the market, down alleyways, through districts, and even through the forbidden roads where no one but thieves and murderers dared tread, but if whatever was making him call out and stumble as he did was catching, no sane person wanted to get near it, so Stacey went on undisturbed, tears streaming down his face.

As pictures of Sally, and what Stacey thought Sally might be one day passed before him, a feeling of loneliness grew within him.  Surely, he could not go back to the ship now, nor did he want to.  He had no food to bring, so his crimes would be obvious.  This meant though, that he had no crew.  He had no family.  And now, he had no Sally.  He had never felt more alone, and his mind couldn't stop going over each fact until, if he could have figured out how, he would have torn his brain from his skull and be done with thinking all together.

Just as he thought of removing his thinking apparatus, he tripped and fell flat on his over-sized nose.  If he'd had more wits about him, he would have noticed people openly laughing at him, but when he lifted his head, he saw what appeared to be a blessing from The Gods, and refused to take it as anything other.  It was the next best thing to ripping out his brain, it was the pub.  If ever a man needed to forget, it was him.  If ever a man needed to stop thinking, it was him.  As quick as he could, he lifted himself off the earth and marched into that bar.

Wide, he swung the door open, and took three steps in when he noticed who was at the bar.  "Stacey!  I was beginning to wonder if you'd come at all."  Stacey had wandered into none other than The Mace and Sword, the place Mattias told him to go after he was done buying the food, and there he sat, having an ale with Syrin.