concertigrossi

Title: The Portolan Man
Author: concertigrossi
Rating: G
Word count: 300
Disclaimer: Not mine
Characters:    The mapmaker from DMC
Challenge: Uncharted Territory on potc100
Notes:   I hope you guys will forgive a triple drabble, but I did have to do a little background, since this character got all of two seconds of screen time. :) This bit struck from the blue once rexluscus posted the prompt, and wouldn't go away until it was written.

     He’d just wanted to draw maps. He got to see the world and, while basking in its wonders, he noted down its idiosyncrasies clearly and accurately, so that those who came after him would know their courses. They might never learn his name, but they’d see his work, and thank him for it: his detailed drawings would warn them off the ocean’s dangers and point the way to safety.
     He’d been the EITC’s man, but he would have worked for anyone: the Dutch, the Spanish, the French or even the pirates, had they found themselves in need of a cartographer.

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He shouldn’t have gone back for his paints on the Endeavour, but it would have taken so much time and money to reassemble that collection. He awoke, with his box, in a rowboat floating on a starless sea. He’d paid extra to make the box watertight, and the joiner had well known his trade.
He said “yes” to the Dutchman’s question before he’d even thought about it. The work was hard, as a crewman, but he somehow felt that he wasn’t done with the world yet, that there was still more he could accomplish. He simply wasn’t ready to go.

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     He finally understood why on the day he wandered into the map room and found nothing but blank sheets. He asked the first mate where the charts were.
      “There ain’t none.”
     Captain Turner needed no charts: the Goddess’ gift meant he always knew where he was, in both World Above and Worlds Below.
      “But for the rest of us… may I draw some?”
      “Stop your foolishness,” said Mr. Turner, but the Captain, perhaps seeing in his obsession a kindred spirit, smiled, and gave his permission.
      He set to work. Terra Incognita? Mare Incognitum?
      He smiled to himself. Not for long.