Wave

The sword sat propped up against the base of the mast, the grizzled captain looking his weapon up and down as the midday sun beat down on them both. The sounds of his crew working around him the only thing breaking the sounds of the waves rolling under them. Above them, a gull called over head. Land must be getting close.

"This is good tidings and news. The word shall reach to the ends of the Earth."

"How is this even possible?" It wasn't that the head of the ship considered himself well educated, but he knew history from a tall tale. Magic is a natural fact, but the non-sense and conjecture people held around it and what caused it was another thing altogether. It never surprised him even a talking blade could be superstitious, but that's exactly what he took the ramblings of his fine blade as: superstitious non-sense he went along with to appease the weapon. "I swear if this has something to do with that dark-skinned son of a bitch sorcerer I'll drag him under the ship next I see him."

"Nay, master. This is just as the prophecy long foretold. The seal is broken. The time of the new gods is over, the old ones will walk the Earth again. Things will soon be as they were always meant to be."

Wave never made the most sense, but sadly being called master didn't change the nature of the relationship. If he didn't follow the swords whims, it would fail to work, and he'd fail to be the greatest pirate of these seas without it. One errand, once in a blue moon, wasn't the worst thing to have to do to keep the weapon under his control. "We'll make land fall by the evening. I swear, if this is nothing but a goose chase I'll find myself another talking sword." He picked up the glass bottle beside him and took a swig before placing it back down. He got up to his feet and wiped off the seat of his pants. "Alright, I have work to do, this vessel won't steer itself. Let us see go see this Nu."