Has time been wasted? Is life being lost, moment by moment, in an atmosphere I did not choose, having been held on a ship against my will, and carrying out duties only because my life depends on it?
At first glance there appears to be a paradox with us Ratfolk. Over the ages, we have been able to adapt to any sort of environment and regime. At the same time, we also hold a narrative of being our own guides in life, of determiners of our own fates. It hearkens to a sense of “doing the best one can wherever one happens to find oneself.”
Can I apply that here? Have I already done so without realizing it?
Much has changed these weeks. Already I am becoming a sailor. A pirate. I am stronger, more swift and adept. My thinking has become sharper. I still falter, but only because I am meeting greater challenges and learning to meet them. I can fight. I have now killed.
It is good that my skills have arrived to a new level. I and several others are leaving the ship that was our prison to run as a skeleton crew for a ship we have taken over.
New challenges await.