Adocu lore

2. Contenders

"...And they're gone." 

He jumps into the water, drying himself and adjusting the sleeves. Still unpresentable, he drapes a cloak from a maid before knocking on his Chief's quarters.

 "Number 17?" 

"Yes, Chief. Please, if you would hear my report." He enters. The room seems to become lighter each visit. Parchment, wood and fingernails, new things seem to appear too.

"Is it about the contenders?"

"No...There isn't anything new to report about them. Five contenders, stil-"

"I'm not interested about anything else."

"N-Not even the boat, Sir-" , "I mean, no, you aren't. Sorry for bothering you." 

He bows towards the exist.

"How is the boat?" The Chief shuffles from his desk, discarding what he was writing. 

"Fine, Sir! I mean, the construction is going smoothly. It should be a few more phases until it's able to be tested. Before then, there is plenty of time for more servants to consider contending for the voyage."

"You can remove the sign up sheets."

"Why? I mean, yes. As you please. However, there is still time for contenders. Couldn't we wait a few sunrises?"

"Are you willing to contend?"

"...No...Unless I'm told to." 

"Every servant who wanted to apply has do so already. Those unwilling aren't determined contenders. Now, go and remove all the sign up sheets. Give them them to the men to burn and assemble the contenders."

17 leaves with a nod. No longer do his words feel stiff. The same can't be said for his bones. This will be a long afternoon.

"The five of you have signed up for the Sailor's Alliance Treaty. However, only one of you will be chosen. So, if you want to traverse the ocean and help our nation make alliance with our ancestors, do so by excelling in these trials! You have two months until departure. Become your best self in that time." 17 is getting used to the leaderly position.

"You're a servant too...no need to command us..." 

"Oh, soon we'll be addressing him as Chief Halite Wed!"

"Right. Give idiots power...and they'll get drunk from it..." 

"Aw, look, he's turning red!"

"Quiet, number 22, 31!" Number 17 grumbles, ignoring their mocking. Those 2 are asking for bad reports. "I mean, starting from tomorrow, you will follow a strict worko-"

"Aw, what? Why!?" 

Each time 17 hears that voice, a rhythmless whistle, his patience thins. Despite their previous duties together, they have no bond. 17, his vigour during tasks didn't mix with 31. Even now, they bitterly remember the time when 17 pompously presented an uncooked meal before the Chief, 31 having not 'received' instructions to cook it. 

But, 17 has to ignore old squabbles. Sending a lazy, loudmouthed, insensitive sailor to form an alliance would insult their nation.

His views of the others? They range from terrible to decent. 22 is friends with 31, therefore terrible. 53 is too old for the journey. Despite being elderly, he has no wisdom. 48, the Chief's favourite. Though he's silent, his arrogance is sharp. 43 is humble, precise. Annoying.

"I...I mean, as your leader, you are to do all I say. I will guide you, but you will need to become the best you can be," 17 declares.