A Series of Unfortunate Events On The Ocean.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

Page 53


I quickly went to my medical kit. I opened it carefully. There were the elastics for the tourniquet, the equipment for suturing, the tweezers to remove glass shards... and everything else to perform a quick operation and prevent Kianu from going into hypovolemic shock. And there was the syringe. The syringe that someone had sent me to use when it was needed. That person was certainly referring to the use of the unlabelled antidote they had sent me. What a terrible idea that had been. But now, that same syringe would allow me to remove the cranial hematoma that was pressurizing Cíntia's head. It was time to decide.

Kianu finally spoke up. He was struggling to speak. I could hear him since he was right behind me.

"Doctor... he's right... Please, help me, and I'll stop the massacre. I know that if I speak... the people will stop. I promise... that I'll stop them."

Cíntia remained inert.

I made my decision. I grabbed the syringe. And I went towards Cíntia.

"Do you think you can save me after you take care of her, Doctor? I'm getting... I'm getting weak and cold... That's not good, is it?" Kianu began to cry and sob.

I didn't look at him. I didn't answer. I needed to concentrate on Cíntia's cranial box.

Quagmire spoke with a tense voice: "Doctor, he's losing a lot of blood. Can I help in any way?"

I didn't answer either. I saw Quagmire go to my medical kit and take the elastics without my authorization. That wasn't a good idea. The glass had hit the open wound. If he put the tourniquet in the wrong position, when compressing the tourniquet, the glass would only increase the bleeding. But I didn't say anything. I needed to concentrate on the procedure I was about to perform.

There are two problems with cranial hematomas: the first is that they pressurize the brain, and can lead to death. The second is that there is generally no perceptible swelling to the touch, because it forms inside the skull. Thus, the exact location is difficult to deduce when there is no major fracture. And if the patient is unconscious, they cannot point to where it hurts. But I was glad that Cíntia was wearing a hat. The exact point where the balance plate touched her head formed a characteristic mark on the tissue. And that point was consistent with the fact that she had said she couldn't see and with the vomiting. I knew I needed to insert the needle at the lambda level, which is an anatomical point at the back of the head where the occipital and parietal bones meet each other.

I took a deep breath. My hands couldn't tremble. That procedure was more than risky: I could kill her right there if I wasn't very careful, or I could leave her with worse sequelae than death. I said a brief prayer, and then inserted the needle behind my friend's head. When I pulled the plunger, the red fluid came with it. She immediately trembled and took a deep breath, a good sign. I carefully removed the syringe and put a bandage on it.

I left her lying there for a moment. Suddenly the receptionist came in shouting "Ua hiki mai nā kākou'ē!, Ua hiki mai nā kākou'ē!" Quagmire stood up from near Kianu.

A small red puddle had taken over the area around him. I heard a loud "Boom!" followed by angry screams. They were trying to open the gates.

Quagmire said, "I did the best I could, Doctor. One tourniquet on the arm and one on the leg."

Kianu was still conscious, but very weak.

"Please, help me, Doctor," he said.

I looked at him and shouted, "Kianu, you almost killed her!!! You killed a lot of people!! You almost killed me!! If you're willing to kill so many people because of your ideas, AT LEAST DIE WITH THEM IN SILENCE!"

My scream apparently woke Cíntia up. And apparently made Kianu take his last breath.

"Quagmire, help me take Cíntia to your vehicle. And we'll take the girl with us. She's not guilty of anything, and has a whole life ahead of her. Hurry up, because we have a massacre to stop."

We approached Cíntia, who was still lying down but with her eyes open.

"Ananias, I still can't see... I feel dizzy."

I felt sorry for her. We heard another loud "Boom!" and more ecstatic screams.

"What's happening outside?" asked Cíntia.

"A revolution... A civil war is about to begin, captain. I have information that they plan to, after invading the Council building, invade the houses of the rich people in the Center and kill them all," said Quagmire. "The security companies won't be able to contain an angry crowd."

"Kianu can stop them... he's their secret leader," she said as I touched her hand. It was cold.

"Kianu is dead, Cíntia... And you... I thought you could already leave, but you can't. You need to rest more."

"BANG! BANG! BANG!" - More people were gathering in front of the big gates.

"Doctor, if we stay here, we'll die," said Quagmire.

"And if we go now, she will die," I said. "I won't abandon her, Quagmire."

Cíntia, still on the ground, lying down and unable to see anything, said, "There would only be one way to stop this revolution. Quagmire, did you fulfill the mission of learning the local language?"

"Just the basics, captain," said the traitor.

"Then, I guess this is the end for me... You guys need to save your own lives. Leave me here."

"No, Cíntia!"

"What was your plan?" Quagmire asked.

"To prevent the massacre. But it would require someone who speaks both languages... And that person's voice would need to overcome the noise of the rebels."

Suddenly the young receptionist spoke in our language: "I speak your language. Can you help save my family? I know how to make my voice heard throughout the neighborhood."

Cíntia, still lying down, smiled. "How old are you, girl? And what's your name?"

"I'm 19 years old, and my name is Ailani. It means 'Celestial Chief' in your language."

"You're going to have to serve..." said Cíntia.

"How are we going to stop the massacre?" I asked.

The captain I had just saved my life, squeezed my hand tightly and said: "Ananias... You're going to have to do something for us. Something terrible. But I believe it's our only chance to stop the massacre."

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

Page 54

Cintia's idea was terrifying. Quagmire was instructed to reinforce the gates, as we would need time there. Ailani was instructed to change clothes: she needed to look like a guerrilla fighter. And as for me, I had the hardest job.

My feet stepped on the glass-covered ground. I carefully observed all those bodies lying there. I found a survivor. He held onto my foot while I kicked away his weapon. He asked for help. I quickly assessed his condition: he would survive. I placed his hand on his stomach and pressed hard, indicating what he needed to do to stop the bleeding. His eyes were hollowed out, so he posed no immediate danger. Most of the men and women lying on the ground lifeless were of no use to me. When the glass broke, most of them were looking up and were hit in the face and neck, so the injuries were so deadly. Carotid arteries are arteries that, when cut, there is almost no chance of survival... Finally, I remembered the incident more fully. The older men had been poisoned. I think at least one of them may have died before the glass disaster. I climbed the stairs and went to the corpse of the old man who was sitting looking down.

I was right. His face had not been injured. He was the ideal one.

Madam, I can say that at that moment my conscience was already numb. Thinking back, I had already killed a person that day. I think since I became a soldier, I have anesthetized my conscience. I always repeated to myself, "my job is to save lives." But deep down, I know that what I do is save the lives of people so they can take the lives of others. If I had not saved Kianu's life earlier that day, he would not have killed so many people. Now I know that the rebels saw that act as a signal to start the revolution, so if I had not saved his life, there might not have even been a chance for a massacre. But still, I saved his life only to let him die bleeding. I shouted at a dying patient. I refused to stop Quagmire from trying to use the tourniquet. I wonder if deep down I wasn't hoping that there wouldn't be enough time to save him after the cranial puncture, and maybe that's why I didn't say anything when I saw Quagmire taking the elastics. Was I angry that Cintia was so hurt because of him? I think so. So many people died, and so many people could die... and it was Cintia who made me lose my sense of right and wrong.

And it was Cintia who was leading me to do it again.

I learned in church the importance of love, compassion, and respect for others, which includes treating the dead with dignity. Actions that disrespect the human body, especially after death, are incompatible with the values that were taught to me. Even in medical school, I learned that the human body after death needs to be respected.

I remember Professor Day from medical ethics saying, "Obviously, in some cases, mutilation of a body may occur in legitimate medical or forensic situations, such as autopsies or criminal investigations, and not necessarily would that be considered wrong in those cases, as long as it is done with a just purpose and respect for human dignity."

I don't know what he would say about me in that circumstance.

I cleaned the glass from the floor with my feet. I laid the body of the old man down with my feet as far as I could. The elder was a white man, with short white hair and no beard or mustache. He was slightly overweight and rigor mortis had not yet set in. It made me realize how little time had passed since the Hermedy. The sounds of the crowd grew louder as more and more Pahoa residents surrounded the building. The gates had to hold, or else everything would be in vain.

I confirmed that the man was truly dead. There was no heartbeat, no pulse, no breathing, no response to pain stimuli. And then I began the procedure as follows:

Under the head of one who breathed no more,
I placed the blackened coat, the task I bore.
With heavy heart and hands that did beseech,
This morbid autopsy, my skill must teach.

My medical kit, in somber shades arrayed,
Held the tools to face this mournful trade.
With trembling hand, I marked the lifeless shell,
Between the skull and vertebrae, where sorrow fell.

The boundary traced, a haunting line to see,
A scalpel chosen, number ten, to set me free.
Curved tip prepared for tissue cold and still,
This grievous task, I took against my will.
The incision made with scalpel's edge so keen,
Through skin and subcutaneous tissue seen.
The muscles and the vessels brought to light,
By forceps, scissors, tools that aid the fight.

Not needed, truly, but compelled was I,
To show respect to one who'd met their eye.
Carotid arteries and jugular veins,
With cautious hands, I severed all the chains.

The vagus nerve and spinal nerves laid bare,
I sought control, though bloodied was my wear.
Hemostatic forceps failed me in my strife,
A crimson scene that marred both me and life.

Now soft tissue and vessels set apart,
The hardest step, with dread I did embark.
My loathed tool, the manual bone saw's glare,
To sever cervical vertebrae with care.

With pressure firm and back-and-forth applied,
I wept, as once the patients softly cried.
No tears from them, but mine did freely flow,
A mournful task, a surgeon's deepest woe.

I brought the man's head with me. When I arrived at the center of the room, Quagmire and the girl were talking to Cíntia. Ailani was already well disguised: she had a headscarf on and had tied her hair back in a ponytail. She had managed to find some charcoal somewhere and had used it to look like she had been fighting. She even used a small piece of glass to make a cut on her cheek. She took Cíntia's original clothing from the locker room, which really made her look like a guerrilla fighter. Finally, Quagmire handed her one of the big guns. And I handed the head to Quagmire.

"This is going to work," said Cíntia still on the ground. "It all depends on you now. Let's stop the massacre."

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

Page 55:



What followed was truly shocking, ma'am.

Ailani briefly explained how the building's voice amplification system worked: whenever one of the elders needed to make an announcement to the entire building's neighborhood, the elder chosen as the council's spokesperson would stand on a metal plate located at the top of the building's facade, between the two towers at the entrance, and his voice would make the metal vibrate. Since the metal plate was connected to the towers, the vibration of the voice was transmitted to the towers, and they amplified the sound through their structure designed for that purpose.



"Perfect," said Cíntia, placing her hands on the ground and trying to lift herself up. "Can you see anything yet, Cíntia?" I asked.

"Nothing, doctor. But don't worry about me. Do you have what I asked you for?" she asked.

"It's with me, captain," Quagmire replied.

"Please give it to the girl."



Quagmire hesitated for a moment. Cíntia explained: "There's nothing that shocks people more than this. Our people's history proves it. Right now, the crowd needs to see something shocking and unforgettable. Something that makes them stop and feel disgust. Something that makes them realize what they themselves are capable of doing before they do it and regret it... Soldiers lose their humanity to be able to kill the enemy. It's not right for ordinary people to lose it too... and they need to realize that they don't have to do it, because there are already people doing it for them."



I remembered Thomas More and Anne Boleyn. I remembered how just learning about those stories as a child had made me feel shocked. Cíntia was using cruel, but possibly true, logic. But forcing a girl to hold that... it just wasn't right.



Quagmire tried to hand the macabre item to Ailani. She finally realized what Cíntia was about to ask her to do.



"Oh my God! This is Makana! He... he always brought me candy..." She finally began to cry. "Oh my God... everyone here is dead, aren't they? Oh my God, Kai, Kona, and everyone else... They're dead..."



The enraged crowd was still trying to force the door.

"There are still some alive, Ailani, right doctor?"

"Yes... at least five elders must be alive."

"If the crowd gets in here, angry, they and all of us will die. And worse than that Ailani..."

Ailani seemed to take a deep breath. "Yes, I know... they will kill everyone in our neighborhood."

"Remember: you can stop this. Just follow my directions carefully," said Cíntia sitting on the ground and crossing her legs. I had cleaned the glass around her. She continued: "People don't want to see compassion. They're angry because they've been treated unfairly for too long. Anger is not logical and is always exaggerated, and often unleashed on innocent people. You must deliver justice to them and hope for change. You must be firm and take on the role of being the sword of justice. In reality, most people don't want to kill anyone. You just need to show them that violence on their part is not only unnecessary, but will be harmful to themselves, and that the path of non-violence will bring benefits and more justice."



"But how do I do that?" Ailani asked.

Cíntia tried to stand up, I ran to her side, and helped her up as she spoke:

"Become their leader. The people here aren't very religious. There are no religious temples on the island. So, you can't justify your leadership with a divine choice. But perhaps you can become the leader through heredity. People tend to respect that kind of thing..."

"I don't understand," Ailani said, and I didn't either.

"You're young. You're at the right age to pretend to be an illegitimate, and therefore secret, daughter of their former leader, Kianu."

"I have parents! They're alive! I can't say that!" Ailani exclaimed, outraged. "They'll hear."

"You need to sacrifice your humanity to save the lives of many, including your parents, Ailani. You won't be human anymore; you'll be a symbol. A symbol of justice and active leadership, a symbol of justice and peace. And when your true parents learn that this saved the lives of so many people, including theirs, they'll forgive you and be grateful."

Ailani fell silent, processing everything.

"You need to be convincing, Ailani. You need to speak as if your voice is the only one in the world, and as if your enthusiasm is the flame of the people's anger materialized in your gestures and transformed into understandable cries of hope and justice."

Ailani reluctantly took the macabre item.

"How do I hold this?"

"While you're transporting it, hold it by the chin. If you need to lift it up to display it to the people, hold it firmly by both ears, but make a slight pressure with your hands." I tried to be as technical as possible because the situation was truly disgusting and horrifying.

"I won't be able to lead them... I don't know how to do that."

"Ailani, no one knows how to do that. But you won't be alone... There are about 50 men who are Kianu's friends... They'll understand that having you as a symbol is the best for the island. And they'll help you, I'm sure." The truth is that at that moment, the number of men was being reduced to 40, as you, madam, could read in Captain Okoro's report.



"Do you have a good memory?" Cintia asked Ailani.

"Yes, I do. It's a prerequisite for my job."

"Then pay close attention, because as soon as you go up the stairs, the three of us will leave. We can't stay here, or people might suspect our plan. And you have to know that everything we did here was confidential. It's a total secret."

"I understand. So, what should I say in my speech?" Ailani asked, resigning herself to her fate.

“Say the following in your own language, of course:



United we stand, in peace and justice grand, Our island thrives, with freedom's flame in hand.



In Pahoa, my brethren, we've prevailed,

I am Ailani, Kianu's child unveiled.

Born illegitimate, I stand with pride,

For freedom's sake, my father died.



He passed to me his fiery fight,

And here's the head of our foes' last blight.

Our enemies vanquished, we lead the land,

With strength and courage, hand in hand.



Hear me now, my father's dream,

Of peace and justice, a lasting theme.

Equality shall reign, and fear subside,

In this fair island, where truth resides.



Those who've feasted on our toil,

Shall now themselves till this rich soil.

No gentle death, but labor's pain,

Shall be their penance, for our gain.



To the central bank, my people, storm,

Take all you wish, transform the norm.

I'll judge the foes who dare oppose,

And treat them as this severed head knows.



Yet brothers, sisters, anger's potent fire,

Must not be confused with violence dire,

The old regime made monsters of you all,

But we shall rise, and they shall feel the fall.



Our island breeds the leeches for the sea,

Yet true bloodsuckers were the elders' creed,

Exploiting all your toil, your blood, your sweat,

But now we break the chains, our course reset.



No need to stain your hands with gruesome deed,

You've fought for rights, and now it's time to feed,

On spoils of war, and not on death's cold grip,

Together we'll move forward, not to slip.



We'll build a peaceful future hand in hand,

No need to justify bloodshed to your kin,

Anger can fuel a peaceful, just demand,

Let me perform the tasks deemed dark and grim.



Together we shall build a future grand,

For us, our children, and the ones to come,

Believe in one another, side by side,

In peace and justice, let our lives reside.



The girl listened attentively and headed towards the internal stairs near the main gate. Cíntia added, "And you need a shorter phrase, to stick in people's minds. Something to say at the end and then have everyone repeat. Something like: "United we stand, in peace and justice grand, Our island thrives, with freedom's flame in hand."



Ailani didn't look back, but made a sound of agreement. Quagmire went towards the wall he had pointed to. I helped Cíntia walk to the same spot. She moved with difficulty, evidently still feeling dizzy. I remembered the teenage feeling I had earlier that day when I imagined walking holding her hand, and how I never would have imagined going through so much and finally walking leaning on Cíntia. It seemed like a bad joke. At that moment, I feared that my friend would never see again, but I did not imagine that something worse than that could happen as a sequel to the cranial trauma she had suffered.



Quagmire opened the secret door, and there was the steam-powered vehicle. I was relieved to see that the protesters had not surrounded the back of the building. Quagmire opened the front chamber where Cíntia and I would lie down. I saw bloodstains. Quagmire was ahead in the explanation: "I thought it would be better to take care of the man's body that you... you know? That you executed. I left him near the hospital with a note and some ammunition." So that was it. I would lie down on the blood of the man I killed. And in fact, I had already decided that it would be safer if Cíntia lay on top of me, so it was my back that... The front chamber closed, and the environment darkened, so I soon had an empathic experience with my friend. Quagmire sat down in the driver's chamber, a little further back and above us. Soon we were on the move.



I could feel Cíntia's heart and her breathing. We were quiet for a while. Until I realized she was crying softly. "Cíntia, you can talk to me..."



"Do you know why?" she asked.



"I don't understand your question," I replied.



"Forget it..." she told me.



But I didn't forget. She wouldn't tell me. But it was just a matter of reasoning a bit that I soon realized... The space we were in was cramped. Ailani wouldn't fit there. That was it. I'm sure of it.



I hugged Cíntia. "You silly girl... I could have stayed behind, and you, Quagmire, and Ailani would go to the port."



She hugged me back. And then she said, "I would never leave you there to die. I would have stayed with pleasure. But you would want to stay with me and end up dying too."

"And I wouldn't leave Ailani to die without a good reason for her to stay and a good chance for her to be saved. I would insist on staying there if that were the case."

"Yes, because you save people, Ananias. And you are a gentleman. Quagmire was out of the question, as he was our driver. So, the only way..."

"The only way was the plan you came up with in a few seconds, taking into account the space of this vehicle... Cíntia, be honest with me: do you think she will be okay?"

"I really hope so, Ananias."



We heard Ailani's feminine voice. Louder than the vehicle's engine. More vibrant than our hearts. More full of fury and hope than anything we had ever heard in our lives. She was a true warrior. We weren't seeing what was happening around the vehicle. But Quagmire told me later. The massacre had already started when we left the building. The people from the center were being killed with machetes, sticks, stones, picks, and hoes. About 27 of them lost their lives that day. But when Ailani started speaking, the crowd immediately stopped the massacre. And then, in the distance, as we moved away from the center, we heard the crowd shouting:

Kākou pūkahi, maluhia a me pono,

Moku ola, ahi o ka 'uhane ku'oko'a.



We deduced that it was our motto in the local language version. So, in the end, thousands of people were actually saved.

Inside the vehicle, the conversation soon turned to Cíntia's original plan. I asked her:

"What ridiculous idea was that with the antidote? And how did you involve Quagmire in this plan? Wasn't he the big traitor?"

"I know it all seems very strange... But I read a lot of reports and had little time to think about everything, Ananias. And I had to make changes to the plan and alternative plans, all in a few days and then in a few hours. I was dealing with monsters, Ananias, all the time. There were monsters at sea, it's true, but the worst monsters were inside of me. And finally, thanks to the reports, I found out that there were even worse monsters on land. Every scenario I thought of led me to believe that there was no way to save the entire fleet and crew without a general change in the island's politics. The oldest elders... they manipulated everything on this island. The entire voting system is made so that their decisions always prevail, even though some of the younger elders think there is some chance. They wanted our ships, and they would kill all of us. Long before the council meeting day, they had already formed a plan on how to manipulate the council meeting to make this happen. In fact, even before that: they manipulated the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to lure us here. That's why five years ago, when the ministry was formed by other elders, the scenario was very similar. Five years ago, however, the result was that the fleet fought to the death against the leeches, instead of handing over the ships. They wanted a different outcome this time. At least some of the ships needed to survive. I released Quagmire so that he could be a double agent. When the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was informed of our investigation, I expected them to try to use Quagmire as a spy again. I was right. And then Quagmire found out who their cooks were, and paid them to poison the breakfast of the oldest elders. With the antidote, it would be possible to save someone who could be useful... but it turned out that this part of the plan wasn't really very good.

"So basically, you poisoned our enemies."

"I said I was good at killing... battles aren't always won with conventional weapons. And the most ironic thing is that the idea came from them. They tried to pass on the information to Okoro that the weakness of the leeches would be to feed them poisoned food... But, as I told Ailani, the real leeches were themselves. So, I gave them poisoned food."

"And the great asset was the black ink."

"Yes... it took me a long time to think of it, but I had a dream where Captain Turnner brought me a dead leech and everything turned black. That helped me connect the dots."

"But I don't understand... Doesn't black ink solve all our problems? Why did you say that we needed to change the local politics?"

"Because black ink doesn't solve all our problems. It's a great advantage, it's true. However, our stock is not unlimited. If the elders just used the strategy of attacking in waves, it would be enough. And if they wanted to keep the ships, they just had to attack one at a time and the desperation of being the next ship to be attacked with the possibility of the crew being devoured alive would lead the crews to mutiny, if they believed they could escape this fate simply by abandoning the ships. But in the end, they would be killed one way or another, as happened five years ago. And a priority problem to be solved is to find the elder who acts as the controller of the leeches to ensure that the sequence of attack waves is prevented. When I spoke in my speeches that we could simply leave using black ink... that was just a bluff. After all, the strategy of attacking in waves is definitive in all scenarios. The leeches could attack right in the middle of the bottom of the ships, and there was basically nothing to do against several sequences of that, even if we prevented some of the attack waves using black ink. As much as I wanted, I couldn't save the ship and the crew without support from the local rebels. And these rebels would only support my plan if there could be a total change in the government, as without it they would be executed. The plan then needed to remove the elders from power and put the group that gathered near the shipyard in power, in a system very similar to what already existed: a council of men leading the island, changing only the people. But I had to make a last-minute change due to a lack of space in this vehicle. Something you didn't see happening, Ananias, but I hope it worked, was the delivery of some of our weapons to the rebels. Quagmire coordinated that too. He was an excellent agent, in the end. And in a way, he really saved us. If it weren't for his greed, we wouldn't have escaped the other monsters. And if it weren't for his cleverness, we wouldn't have destroyed our enemies. I asked to leave Kianu without this information, as I didn't know if I could trust him or not. Often, leaders of revolutions like this are already corrupted beforehand. His interest in Okoro also left me in doubt. But I was being overly cautious. He himself had a much bigger plan in motion... And much more deadly in every way. Quagmire and I had communication problems, but in the end... it happened as it happened. Of course, he will never be able to return to our country. And he has accepted that."

"Captain Turnner's dream, do you think it was a supernatural message?"

"I don't know... Actually, I don't know what to believe anymore, Ananias... If I believe in heaven and hell, where do you think I should go when I die? And I feel like I'm going to die soon, Ananias. My head is not normal. I'm dying of a headache. I didn't want you to worry. But it's getting worse..."

She started crying again. And then she continued talking:

"In these past few days, I put myself in danger so many times, Ananias. I almost... I almost gave up on everything once. And every time you were there. I never truly thanked you from the bottom of my heart. I want to say it now, my friend. Thank you so much for being my true friend. You saved me so many times... Now I really don't want to die. I want to live. I want to live close to you... so we can talk, laugh, and cry together. But it hurts so much, but I don't want to give up."

"Cíntia, are you talking so much to try to stay awake? Do you feel like you're going to faint?"

"Yes..."

I started crying along with her. The hematoma must have been forming again. With the vehicle shaking, even though I tried to give her stability with my body, it wasn't working.

"QUAGMIRE, STOP THE VEHICLE!!" I kicked the bodywork as I shouted. We stopped, and Quagmire opened the passenger chamber. But it was already too late. Cíntia fell into a coma, ma'am. And to this day she has not woken up.


I'm sorry to be the bearer of this bad news, ma'am.

[MisterM]

In awnser to your question Jean, yes, and it's the same with the story I am writing now. There are inspirations that are directly from ASOUE, but with a few names and words changed this story stands completely on its own as a work of fiction. A very good one at that.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

Oh! Thank you! After I'm done, and I'm almost done, I'll revise, adjust edges, and change names. I think I'll publish a novelette. I would like it to be something stylized, like TBL, but I think there are technical limitations... But I will look for information on that.

[tricky]

i have no time to read these days but i'm hoping to catch up as soon as my assessments are over !!!!! just wanted to say keep it up

[Glittery666]

I actually kind of think this works better as an original than as a fanfic and am looking forward to reading the rest of this draft and a revised version. Good luck!

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

I really appreciate all of your support. The last chapter was written from 11 pm to 3 am, and I had to go to work at 5 am the same day. But the ideas were in my mind, I needed to write or else I wouldn't be able to sleep.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 56

Sunday, June the tenth,

To the dear sister of Miss Cíntia Malahan,

Sunday, June the tenth, I write

Dear lady, in this poetic light,

A humble report for your keen sight,

Of your sister's health and her plight.

From time to time, in this book, I shall pen

Updates on her progress, now and then,

For Dr. Ananias, that is my name,

I am the one who bears the news to proclaim.

In a gentle coma, she lies still,

Since the elder council meeting, against her will,

Yet good news, I bring, for now we find

Her cranial pressure, in normal kind.

Her oxygen levels, they stand strong,

I'm certain she'll awaken, it won't be long,

At Panalu beach, our lodging near,

Cíntia rests, her slumber clear.

In her tranquil chamber, she finds repose,

With every passing day, new hope grows,

So fret not, dear lady, for I shall keep

Watch over your sister, as she sleeps.

Upon our fleet, Captain Okoro stands tall,

With shipyard workers, now a union, they all

Have found the elder, controller of leeches,

Whose foul intentions, his treachery reaches.

A search intense, the truth unveiled,

Fifteen guards, with him, they sailed,

Two forts they manned, on harbor's side,

Their plan to bomb our ships, they tried.

But Queen Anne's cannons roared and spat,

In mere three minutes, the forts fell flat,

Thirty union men found survivors, those who hid,

And with Henry VIII's new weapons, they rid.

Captain Widdershins, his temper sore,

Believes a captain should lead, not Okoro,

As second-in-command, he feels it right,

But Cíntia's orders stand, in her slumber's night.

Widdershins, a gruff old sea dog, we know,

His voice a bellow, his anger, it shows,

Okoro, a woman of action, not much for speech,

Decided the fleet shall stay, until new orders reach.

As for the island, Ailani now leads,

Governor Ailani, she plants the seeds,

Five surviving elders and union concur,

In peaceful accord, they now defer.

Ailani, the governor of island folk,

The union and elders, their counsel invoke,

To create laws, and ensure she stays wise,

They work together, in harmony's guise.

So this I share, dear sister, a report so true,

Of our fleet and island, their stories anew,

Awaiting Cíntia's wake, to guide us through,

Until then, together we stand, our purpose to pursue.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 57

Monday, June the eighteenth, a verse,
Dear lady, I now shall immerse,
In news of Lady Cíntia's fate,
And how the island's course we navigate.

Still she slumbers, our dear Cíntia, true,
A second opinion I sought, to pursue,
From Prince Leopold's doctor, Lopes his name,
A neurologist, his skill and fame.

To the island's hospital, we moved her care,
Okoro assured, the best treatment there,
With fleet doctors and locals hand in hand,
Her fever and breath, we strive to understand.

In her unconscious state, she fights, I feel,
The island's medicine, advanced and real,
Equipment I've not seen, to diagnose and treat,
In this place, her healing, we hope to meet.

As for the island, Widdershins and Quagmire,
Ambassadors self-proclaimed, they aspire,
To learn the language, customs, and the ways,
Of island folk, as diplomacy plays.

Ailani's first act, a decree for leeches,
Banished from the land, her speech teaches,
The New Council's votes, equal weight they share,
A majority agrees, the leeches' end is fair.

For they consume much food, these parasites,
Their removal shall lower food prices in sight,
The people, pleased by this news they hear,
Look forward to a future, with hope and cheer.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 58

Sunday, June the twenty-fourth, in rhyme,
Dear lady, I share these words in trying times,
Cíntia worsens, but fear not, I say,
We've found a machine to aid her, come what may.

An Oxygenator, Pneumatic and grand,
Its innovation we now understand,
A massive structure of metal, its frame,
To keep her alive, till health she reclaims.

Copper tubes entwined, gears and valves shown,
A steam-powered core, the machine has grown,
A mighty compressor, the air it draws,
Through linen filters and charcoal, no flaws.

Then zeolite stones, by natives revered,
Adsorb nitrogen, as oxygen clears,
Forgive my detail, in nerves I confide,
Technical language, my fear can't hide.

An infection she faces, a battle so dire,
The puncture wound, a gateway for mire,
My fault, dear lady, the blame I bear,
I know not what to do, in this dark affair.

For I love Cíntia deeply, my heart it aches,
My first wife, too, an infection's cruel stakes,
I cannot face this again, my spirit worn,
In prayers I seek, a miracle to be born.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 59

Tuesday, June the twenty-sixth, I write,

With heavy heart, the news I share tonight,

This day could be her last, we fear,

As life's grip loosens, the end feels near.

Her heart stopped beating, moments slipped away,

A seizure from fever, the shadows sway,

I was not there, in slumber I found,

Awake for seventy-two hours, both night and day.

Her fever had lowered when I closed my eyes,

But during my rest, a new surprise,

Dr. Lopes and local doctors, their efforts prime,

Saved her life, within that fragile time.

I almost missed her final breath,

But miracles, we need, to quell this death,

I'm sorry, dear lady, my words now fail,

In this moment, my strength and hope derail.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 60

June twenty-seventh, a new day dawns,
In darkness, Quagmire arrives, like a fawn,
An elderly woman he brings, in tow,
His weeks-long quest, to save Cíntia, now shows.

Grateful for pardon, his heart does reveal,
He sought a healer, her ailment to heal,
A herbalist, skilled in fungus and plants,
White hair in layers, wisdom enchants.

Her wrinkled face tells tales of her age,
Her gentle smile, a comforting sage,
She wears a tunic, with colors so bright,
A grass skirt handmade, a cultural sight.

"My name is Anela," she said with pride,
"One of the last of our people's old tribe,"
Quagmire explained, a truth he did share,
Cíntia's bold actions, her people's despair.

A survivor's tale, Anela's own quest,
To find peace in revenge, and lay souls to rest,
Five vials of potion, from fungi she gave,
A miraculous liquid, her life to save.

"The fungus is deadly, yet in this dose,
Selective demise, for wicked foes,
The evil microbes shall meet their end,
While Lady Malahan, we'll see mend."

The fever subsided, just hours past,
But follow her guidance, for healing to last,
To Quagmire and Anela, my thanks so deep,
For God's hand in this, my prayers I keep.

May this treatment work, I sincerely pray,
And bring Cíntia back, to us, one day.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

PAGE 61

Saturday, July 14th

Dearest sister of Lady Malahan,
I apologize for the silence of my pen,
My weariness and hope have shared a den,
As I witnessed her recovery begin.

Her breath now flows without machine's aid,
The fungal remedy, a healing cascade,
Her skin regains its natural hue,
With oil to soothe the bruises, old and new.

Though we still wait for her eyes to flutter,
And for her voice to rise above a mutter,
I am sure, with time, she'll surely wake,
To live anew, the slumber she'll forsake.

Isle of changes, a story to be told,
Governor Ailani's vision, brave and bold,
A tax system fair, where the wealthy pay,
To help the poor, to lift their dismay.

Essential services now within reach,
Education, healthcare, transport to teach,
Funeral care, as sanguessugas fade,
Their banishment brings lower prices displayed.

Quagmire's confession, the truth unfolds,
An ambassador's role, he gladly holds,
With Widdershins, a united front,
To find a cure for Cíntia, in their hunt.

Life's surprises, a winding road we tread,
Decisions made, to unknown paths we're led,
Widdershins leads a group, a choice so bold,
To stay on the isle, their future to mold.

Deserters they may be, but hearts are true,
The island's beauty and promise in view,
Ailani's reign, a better place to dwell,
With Cíntia's health, a story to tell.

If she too deserts, I'll stand by her side,
Her family's love, we'll never deride,
I'll care for her, in sickness and health,
For love will conquer, through stealth and stealth.

Her faculties may wane, but love remains,
Through the trials and the unending pains,
My greatest hope, she'll recognize my face,
In this island's warm and tender embrace.

[Optimism is my Phil-osophy]

Page 62

Thursday, August 16th, a day of delight,
Cíntia awoke from her slumbering night,
Unexpected joy, my heart's overwhelmed,
As we witnessed the miracle that welled.

Doctor Lopes and I pondered her state,
Her coma prolonged, as we sought her fate,
Fighting to regain strength, through therapy,
Her muscles and bones, to regain liberty.

This morn, as she lay, a surprise in store,
The therapist noticed, her leg was sore,
We hastened to warm her, as hope shone bright,
She opened her eyes, a heartwarming sight.

She gazed at me, with her eyes full of love,
Reached for my face, as gentle as a dove,
Her smile, a treasure, then sleep claimed her mind,
In her recovery, new hope we find.

A cherished companion, a surprise so grand,
Governor Ailani, joined Cíntia's stand,
Well and recovering, by her side she stays,
Two strong souls, their fates entwined in ways.

In Ailani's care, the island thrived,
Warships and merchant vessels soon arrived,
With purpose and vision, she led the way,
Employment flourished, a brighter day.

The Central Bank, Ailani's resource,
Confiscated riches, a powerful force,
Taxing the wealthy, she enacted change,
But with power comes danger, a target in range.

An assassination attempt came near,
A bullet grazed her ear, as death did leer,
From the armory, a weapon slipped through,
A lead projectile, its intent to subdue.

By mere inches, Ailani was spared,
In the face of danger, she bravely dared,
Now sharing a room, these two women strong,
Together, they'll heal, and right what is wrong

"I thought I helped the people, Doctor," Ailani sighed,
"But now they're growing angry, their fury won't subside."
I searched for words to answer, to offer her some peace,
"Perhaps increase your security, Your Excellency, let their anger decrease."

"Why call me that?" she wondered, her eyes now met with mine,
"'Your Excellency,' I thought it due," I said, and hoped it'd be fine,
"I'm not Excellency, just a girl who aims to quell,
The rage within their hearts, lest it brings forth their knell."

Though I hold a pessimistic view, of what the future brings,
I can't deny her noble heart, as for peace she tirelessly springs,
Her efforts may not always win, but in her heart, she'll know,
She tried to mend the fractures, and help the island grow.

In understanding her, I see, she grasps not the full plight,
For in this world we live, it's true, that people often fight,
Be they neighbors or strangers, led by one or a crowd,
With weapons forged of iron, or sea creatures, fierce and proud.

In time, they find their ways to clash, to wound and maim, and slay,
No matter if in harmony, they've lived for many a day,
Yet still, I hold my hopes for her, and write to you, unknown,
That Ailani's efforts might bring peace, and strife be overthrown.

In this letter, I must express, that though I feel despair,
Her motivation and resolve, are truly something rare,
So as I pen these thoughts to you, in verses full of strife,
I wish for Ailani's dreams to guide us to a brighter life.

To you, dear sister of Cíntia Malahan, far away,
I write these words within this book, that someday you may lay,
Your eyes upon this humble page, and learn of all we've seen,
And know the struggles we've endured, the spaces in between.

But now's the time to celebrate the life, and not the end,
For I am certain Cíntia shall awaken, my dear friend,
I know within my heart she will remember who I am,
And in her eyes, I'll see the love that in our hearts began.

And so, I'll stand beside her, through the thick and through the thin,
A steadfast guardian, a companion, always there to win,
The battles that may come our way, in darkness or in light,
Together, hand in hand, we'll face the future, strong and bright.