I had never seen a more beautiful day for a funeral. The Cadalan Mountain peaks rose and fell like the world serpent's spines across the milk-white sea of clouds. The vaulted dark sky was still painted with stars, each gently winking away by the light of the sunrise. I pulled my wool coat a little tighter as the wind began to pick up.

I stood on the deck of the SS Theodore, rocking back and forth with the rhythm of the gyro blades that held my dear ship in the air. After so many years, I've all but forgotten what it meant to stand still. When you're a Rough Rider, you're always on the move.

The rest of the crew were still below deck making preparations. Some said their prayers to Gods they thought would listen. Others practiced rituals to ease their troubled, superstitious minds. Hard to believe in things like that when you've sailed the seven skies like I have, but a good captain knows when to keep his opinions to himself.

The door behind me swung open, and a set of feet scraped along the deck. I didn't need to look behind me to see who it was. I make a habit of knowing the gait of every crew member on this ship. Roy saddled up beside me, dragging his crippled left leg along with him.

"Good morning, Captain." Roy's withered voice barely cut through the howl of the morning wind. The Navigator had his staff gripped tightly between his old, leathery hands. The plethora of wooden charms tied to Roy's clothes clicked and clacked like chimes in the wind.

"It is, isn't it?" I said, keeping my gaze facing the sunrise. I try to watch every sunrise and sunset that I can. Keeps me grounded in a sense.

Roy turned to look at me, his one functioning eye soft and brown, his other milky white, staring into nothing.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Captain," Roy said.

"I want to," I replied, my voice cracking like some greenhorn fresh from the academy.

"Got some friends in Shankovar," Roy mumbled as if he hadn't heard me. "Real close by. Don't need any of this fanfare."

I placed a hand on Roy's shoulder." I want to." I said again, this time with a voice that held conviction.

Roy smiled and looked away. "Aye, Aye, Captain."

"Besides," I continued. "A Rough Rider never dies on the ground. Them's the rules, after all."

I took a few steps forward, hands gripping my belt to keep from shaking. I looked back at Roy, cocking the usual smirk. "And you know I'm a stickler for rules."

Roy churned up a marshy laugh. "Oh, aye. Says the man who cheats at cards more than anyone else on this ship."

"Well, aren't you a gull calling the clouds white." I gave Roy a playful leer. "I can remember on more than one occasion the rogue winds that swept our cards off the table every time I was winnin' at Crowns."

"Speaking of which," Roy slipped a hand into his robe and procured a fresh pack of cards. "You know how Azshan is with his prayers. It could take a while before everyone's ready. How 'bout a game?"

A cold wind raced across the deck, cutting through the layers of my wool coat, straight into my bones. I didn't know if the wind was of Roy's conjuring or not, but I understood the message regardless.

"Sure," I said. I dragged a barrel close by and stacked some boxes for us to sit upon. Roy eased himself into the makeshift chair, using his hands to move his dead leg into a comfortable position. He handed me the cards, and I shuffled them neatly before dealing. Roy smiled at his cards. My cards were nothing but gull shit. Typical.

"Your move or mine?" Roy peaked over his cards.

"Age before beauty," I replied, trying to think of somehow winning with the terrible hand I'd been dealt.

"Well, we're both not exactly the best at catching a lady's fancy." Roy chuckled.

"Play your card, you damn wind chime."

Roy gave a wet chuckle and placed down his first card. The wind died down then, the air becoming so still that only the hollow howl of the open sky and the sputtering of the gyro blades remained.

I looked down at the card. A high roller. All I had were two knights and a couple of low rollers. I played a knight.

Roy's smile fell quickly as he drew cards from the deck. So the old windbag didn't have anything higher after all. After a few drunken games of Crowns, I knew Roy's style like the back of my hand. He liked to force kings out early before stacking the cards. I merely adopted the same rule when I played with him.

Roy added a few cards to his hand, studied them intently before placing a king on the pile. "Crowns. That's three for me." He grabbed the little stack of cards and put them neatly beside him.

"Seems like a waste," I replied.

Roy nodded. "Aye, but we all have to start somewhere. I was nothing more than a gutter rat before I became a Navigator. Did I ever tell you that?"

Indeed, Roy had told me enough times that I could retell the story word for word, but not today.

"Ah, hells Roy, I'm always too deep in my cups when you tell that story. With a crisp morning like this though...," I paused to look out over the sea of clouds once more. The stars had all but winked away, the cold dark sky slowly warming up to the soft blues I always dreamed about.

"I doubt I'll forget your story this time."

Roy opened his mouth to speak before a wracking cough took hold of him. He doubled over, gripping the barrel with his good hand to keep himself upright. It took a few minutes before Roy was able to compose himself. Sticky strings of saliva dribbled down the side of his wrinkled chin. Roy turned and spat viridescent phlegm over the deck.

"Ah, sorry, Captain." Roy wheezed.

I shook my head. "Don't worry. Take your time. We've got all morning."

Roy spat a few more times before turning back to his cards.

"As I was saying," Roy said, wiping his mouth. "I spent most of my childhood running through the streets of Shankovar with my gang. There was Ankho, Mumbi, Hamisi, and little Shilin. We used to get into all kinds of trouble back then."

Roy laughed and placed down a low roller from his hand. This time I matched him, my aim for the next crown to be a little more substantial.

"I bet their parents were furious when they found out you'd pressed them into service," I said.

"They would be," Roy tutted. "If they'd been alive. Shankovar was plagued by the Green Fever at the time. The history books would tell you that it only lasted a few years, but that was only when the disease became more widespread. Death by Green Fever did not come to Shankovar in one fell swoop with his scythe. Before, it came and went like harvest season. One district or another would become infected, either by refugees, contaminated wheat, or what have you. Before too long, the plague men would arrive, burn the whole place down, rebuild, and repopulate. That was the plan, at least."

Roy grew silent. He fumbled with his cards, shuffling and arranging them as if a specific combination would somehow reveal the secret he needed. It was always around this time that he needed a little cajoling to keep the story going.

"How was anyone supposed to know the Green Fever didn't affect kids?" I said, keeping my eyes on my own cards.

"Oh, but it did, in its own special fucking way." Roy barked before curling into another set of coughs. I waited patiently for him to continue.

"But that is neither here nor there," Roy said after his coughing had subsided. "The fact of the matter was that the Green Fever left the city with more orphans than orphanages. Whatever the orphanages couldn't take the workhouses got and whatever the workhouses couldn't take, the gangs were more than willing to have."

"That's a tough life to have," I said. "You don't get many options as a kid ganger. You're either a spotter, a pickpocket or—"

"Some rich bastards after dinner plaything." Roy finished my sentence for me.

"Aye." I nodded. We exchanged a few cards in the growing silence. So far, no crowns had been declared.

"Anyway, that's why I figured to fuck em' all and start my own gang. The Shankovar Street Rats we called ourselves, and we only had one rule. No adults allowed." Roy let out a whooping laugh that devolved into a whooping cough.

"I'm impressed. How long did it take before some nosey adult tried to change those rules?" I asked.

"A few weeks, but after a couple of 'um met Ankho's knife, the rest began to know better. Avoid the Street Rats, and you'll have one less hole to shit out of, they'd say."

I quickly laid down a king on the stack just as Roy finished his sentence. "Crowns."

Roy went pale. He exchanged looks between me and the card. "With all due respect, Captain. Fuck you."

'Fuck you too, Roy, now finish your story." I chuckled as I scooped up the cards. So far, it was three cards to six. I was winning by double, but the game was only half over, and Roy was still full of tricks. I played a high roller just to keep him guessing.

Roy sucked a few gulps of air into his lungs, which I could only guess were more mired with shit than the streets of Shankovar. A smidge of color returned to his cheeks, and he continued.

"Where was I? Oh, yes, the gangs. Anyway, the gangs were already avoiding us like the Green Fever long before the superstitions started cropping up."

"Superstitions?" I asked.

"That the Street Rats were secretly Djinn disguised as children, causing havoc wherever the east wind blew," Roy said matter of factly as he played his card.

"How am I not surprised," I said. "Ever since you became the Theodore's Navigator, I've been wondering if I let the literal sky devil join my crew with the trouble we've had lately."

Roy held up his hands in mock protest. "They were only half true, I swear. I'm no Djinn, although most days I wish I was, but we sure did cause a lot of havoc."

"What kind of havoc?" I asked.

"Why the best kind of course." Roy nodded. "The kind that makes you scratch your head and wonder just how in the hells it happened."

A few rays of sunlight began to poke over the horizon, bathing the Theodore in a warm glow. Roy turned to watch, his withered lips curling into a smile. I was so lost in the sunrise as well that I didn't see the old bastard lay down a king.

"Crowns," Roy muttered, still gazing intently at the sun. I shoved the pile his way and laid down a low roller. I would need a large stack if I was going to beat Roy to the last Crown.

"It was a hard life for us Street Rats, but we got by," Roy said as he turned back to the game. His gaze was distant, his thoughts elsewhere, but he still had that smile plastered on his wrinkled face. "And we caused a lot of trouble while we were at it. Seemed like the only thing we could do in a city like Shankovar, as repayment for being left behind."

"Tell me then," I asked. "What was your favorite way to cause trouble?"

Roy laughed. "Before or after the sky told me her name?"

I blinked. Roy had never brought that up before.

"Both," I said, eager to know the answer.

"Well," Roy cleared his throat. "Hanging Lord Renly's underwear on his weather vane was always a hoot. Even before I could use the wind to fly, the challenge was always sneaking into his estate grounds. The old bastard had it in for us after the first few times. Every time we escaped, he'd post more guards, and we'd have to invent a new way of committing our acts of vandalism. Mumbi and I used to bet that Lord Renly stopped wearing underwear because of us. After the sixth time, we never saw his knickers on the clothes rack again."

"The name rings a bell," I added. "Heard the man had more money than sense back in the day. Rumor had it that he went mad, muttering about rats stealing his clothes. So now I know who to blame next time the story comes up. Roy the Sky Devil did it. That's what I'll say."

Roy gave a withering chuckle. Already I could see his energy starting to leave him. The story had taken a lot out of him already, despite there more to be said.

"Roy the Sky Devil," he repeated the name, shaking his head. "I wonder what the other Street Rats would think of that."

"Where are they now? Ankho, Mumbi, Hamisi, and little Shillin? What became of them?" I asked.

Roy looked away, the cogs in his addled head turning slowly as he tried to remember.

"Ankho left after a few years and began working as a dockhand. He was always the sensible one. Realized there was no future for a Street Rat that involved good food and steady pay. From what I've heard, he became the Undersecretary now. Smart lad, he was. Always the voice of reason.

"Mumbi and Hamisi joined the church, although as to why only Grandmother Sky knows. They used to talk about how much they hated listening to the sermons, but you can't exactly bite the hand that feeds you sometimes. Perhaps they were secretly listening after all."

Roy grew quiet after that, his face scrunching into a wrinkled mess. "Little Shillin. Poor boy. Got eaten alive by the Green Fever once he turned fifteen. Remember how you said that the Green Fever didn't affect children?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it did. It was incubating inside Shillin, as the plague men told us in their clinic. Like some evil fucking wyrm laying in wait, it hatched once he got older. Thought it was just a regular fever at first until he died the next week."

"No one ever escapes the Green Fever, do they, Roy?" I asked.

"No," he chuckled. "I guess you never really do."

Roy coughed a few more times after that. His body shook with every discharge, the spittle at the edges of his lips foamy and red this time. Each intake of breath sounded like he was breathing through cheesecloth. Time was running out, it seemed.

We dealt a few cards in silence, trying to focus on the last leg of the game. A Crown stood somewhere in the deck, and we were peppering the stack with low rollers to get to it. Finally, I played the knight, and Roy was forced to draw until his lilting gaze flickered with the faintest glow of success. He played a king.

"Crowns." He wheezed. "I win."

A great gust of wind blew by just then, sending our cards scattering. They twisted into the air, swirling about like a flock of gulls in the open sky. I watched, entranced by their movements until they disappeared like specks into the distance.

"Guess it's time now, Captain," Roy said. He stood up clumsily from the makeshift chair and began ambling to the ship's port side towards the sunrise. I followed quietly behind.

Roy stood by the deck railing, clinging to his staff as if it was his only connection left to the physical world.

"I've been wondering, Roy," I said. "About what you said back there just then." The Navigator didn't turn to acknowledge me.

"You said the sky told you her name." I continued. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said, Captain. She thought me worthy of knowing, I suppose." Roy said, his staff quivering in his grasp like a sapling in a storm.

"What is her name?" I pressed.

Roy, despite his current state, still gave a hearty laugh that surprised me.

"Well, I can't just tell you. I made a promise never to tell."

"And what would happen if you broke your promise?"

"Why then, I wouldn't have my name whispered in the wind after I die. It'd be a real shame keeping the secret for so long, only to have such an honor plucked away like that."

Roy leaned over to look at me. "You wouldn't make an old man give away his greatest secret, would you, Captain?"

"Never," I said.

Roy smiled. "That's why I always liked you, Captain."

"It's been an honor, Roy."

"It has."

I took a few steps back and knocked the heel of my boot against the deck floor. A few minutes later, the door leading below swung open, and the rest of the crew began filing out.

The first out was Azshan, Roy's apprentice. The dark-skinned lad had shaved his head for the occasion, his charms practically spartan compared to Roy's jingling mess. The boy kept his composure, lips pressed thin and brow furrowed, but his red eyes gave away that he'd been crying earlier.

Next came Samuel the Quartermaster and Cook whose large form hid Alesha, the First Mate. Then came the Boatswain's and Cabin Boys, Powder Monkey's and Gunners, and even Gloght the Surgeon made an appearance. Everyone filed onto the deck. Those that had drawn the marked straws earlier had matchstick rifles in their hands, loaded and ready.

I supposed now was a good time as any to get things underway. "Rough Riders," I called out, doing my best to keep my voice from quavering. "We are here to deliver a brother back to the sky this day."

A few choked sobs emanated in the direction of the cabin boys. No surprise, Roy had always been kind to them, perhaps in memory of his beloved Street Rats.

"But first, let us give him one last right." I turned to Roy's apprentice and beckoned him over. "Azshan, come here, lad."

The boy hesitated for a moment before stepping forth. Roy hobbled towards him and held out his staff. The boy took it wordlessly, the realization just now dawning on him.

"I'm not ready." He whimpered.

"You are," Roy said. He gave the boy a pat on the head. "You always were."

"Azshan Samaha, you are now the Rough Rider's Navigator," I said. "Take us where the currents are strong. Where our names will be whispered in the wind one day."

Azshan looked down for a moment, gripping the staff tightly in his hands before nodding. "I will. I promise."

"Good lad," I said, and I sent him back to the group.

I turned towards the sunrise, where the light was now gleaming as bright as polished gold. Yes, today could not have been more beautiful.

"Rough Riders!" I yelled. "Who are we?"

"The bane of the seven skies!" The crew cried out.

"What are we?"

"The best money can buy!"

"And who do we serve?"

"The sky alone!"

I turned back to Roy, who held onto the deck railing now that he no longer had his staff. "Come on, Roy, let's go watch the sunrise together."

We walked over to the edge and observed as the final cusp of sunlight peeked up over the horizon.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I asked Roy.

I could see that Roy wanted to describe a million ways why the sun was beautiful, but his lungs had long since given out. He wheezed and hacked up a few globs of crimson before finally muttering. "Yes."

I turned my head and nodded towards the crew. Those that held the rifles stood at attention. Alesha was quick to act.

"Present arms!" She called out. "Aim!"

The rifles were lifted and pointed towards the sky.

"Fire!" A thunderous set of cracks shook the Theodore's deck as the rifles were discharged. Thick, black smoke billowed out for a moment before the wind took it to who knows where.

"Reload!" Alesha cried.

I turned back to Roy. "I hope a seven gun salute is to your liking. I would do twenty-one, but you know how cheap I am."

"Aim!"

Roy chuckled and said nothing, only continuing to look out towards the sunrise.

"Fire!"

Another set of shots rang out.

"Reload!"

I gripped the butt of my matchstick pistol slung to my belt. The funeral was almost over. Quick and easy. Now, for the hard part.

"Aim!"

I took a step back and drew my pistol. I pressed the tip of the barrel against Roy's back where I knew his heart would be.

"Goodbye, Roy," I whispered.

"Goodbye, Captain."

"Fire!"

I pulled the trigger.

Roy buckled under the realization that he was dead. He tipped over the railing, free-falling like a sack of rocks. For a moment, just a brief moment, I had hoped that Roy would open his arms then and fly away, to sail the pure open skies uninhibited by his failing body. It was a foolish thought, but a man can dream.

I waited until Roy's body disappeared under the cloud sea before turning back to the crew. Everyone watched me earnestly. I didn't know what to say then.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Alesha asked.

"Aye." I nodded. "Aye. Just gettin' over sayin' goodbye."

I sniffed a few cold lungfuls of air and spat over the railing. A Rough Rider never dies on the ground. That's been our creed since we first started sailing the seven skies. And Roy followed that creed to the very end.

"I think I just need a moment, is all." I continued. "Get the ship ready to sail for Shankovar. We have our condolences to give to some folk."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Alesha said before turning to the crew. "Well, you heard him. Get back to work you lot!"

Everyone dispersed quickly to their respective jobs. Hauling anchor, setting the sails, counting inventory, and the like for restock once we arrived at our destination.

I stood by the railing where Roy had been not a moment ago. His sudden absence felt like a weight pressed against me, making my stomach sink and my heart hollow. Memories of our past adventures together came and went like the passing of old photographs between good friends.

"You're free now, Roy. Ride the winds home, where you belong. give Ankho, Mumbi, Hamisi, and little Shillin my regards for me." I said, not really knowing what else to say. Whether I was saying it for Roy's sake or for my own, I did not know.

"I hope I hear your name in the wind one day, to know you kept your promise to the sky."

A gust of wind blew past me, and I closed my eyes to listen. Though it was as faint as a child's whisper in a crowded market, I knew deep down that he had.

The End