Chapter 28 #2
And now here it was again. Only it wasn’t charging, nor was it baring its teeth. The sea serpent was just waiting, watching her. And she felt no inkling to run away.
Her head tilted to the side, and she lifted her stare back to that one star within the crescent of the moon. Her eyes narrowed. “Blackwood, if this is some sick joke you’re pulling from the grave, I’m not impressed.”
But as the words left her, something deep inside Esmyra shifted. It pulled tight like an anchor catching on something beneath the waves. It was the same feeling she’d had the moment she’d first set foot in the cave entrance to Maerinys, like a pulse was calling to her.
Only this time it was the serpent that was the rhythm.
Esmyra’s breath trembled, and before she realized what was happening, her feet moved. It was just like when she was in the cave, her palm reaching out for the rune-covered arch that unlocked the way to the sunken kingdom.
It was Kaelypso reaching out.
The cold water swirled around her knees, then her thighs. The sea was rising, or maybe she was sinking. Either way she didn’t stop. The tattoos along her arms began to thrum, a burning, icy ache just under the skin, pulsing in time with the pull of the tide.
“I know you, don’t I?” she asked softly, the sea nearly swallowing the words.
The serpent dipped its chin slightly in acknowledgment.
And then she felt it—a whisper. Not in her ears, but in her blood. It was a possessiveness as she locked eyes with the beast.
Levaia, it seemed to say. The word echoing over and over again in her mind.
Her breath hitched.
Was that the beast’s name? And… was it speaking to her? No. At least, not like Kaelypso had. This wasn’t language; more so a feeling. A memory, even. Or perhaps she just knew in her soul.
The water was up to her waist now as Esmyra took another step. The moonlight scattered over the serpent’s scales, making it seem less monstrous—less like something to fear. A guardian, maybe.
Or a… tether. A tether to an ancient life she had no memory of.
A flicker of awareness surged through her, and she looked down.
Red runes, tattered black breeches, and an old shirt, sea-worn and frayed, was all she wore, her black hair billowing in the wind.
Maybe the beast recognized something inside of her. Or maybe she recognized someone.
Esmyra sucked in a sharp breath, and the sea stirred against her skin as her body shifted, her pirate guise melting away. Her silver hair flowed like ribbons as her eyes cast a subtle silvery-blue light, matching that of the beast’s.
Their gazes locked once more, and Esmyra straightened her stance as she stood several yards from the serpent.
“My Levaia.” The word slipped past her lips, but when it reached her ears, she knew it wasn’t her who said it. It was Kaelypso.
It tilted its giant head to the side and made an odd sound. It was low and resonant, like an echo or a deep, approving purr. Then it moved toward her, slithering forward as its massive form carved through the water.
Esmyra didn’t flinch, but instead lifted her chin and stepped forward, bare feet sinking into the silt. A strange calm washed over her, realizing that what she felt was recognition, from both of them.
This enormous, fearsome creature knew her.
Esmyra’s legs merged and morphed into her siren’s tail, and she dove beneath the waves, meeting the serpent halfway. Under the water, she could make out its true size, its long serpentine body extending far beyond her sight.
The beast was brilliant. It was magnificent. And it was… hers.
“Ours,” Kaelypso corrected.
To Esmyra’s own surprise, she let out a soft laugh.
It was then she recalled all she’d read about the sea dragon of legends; of a monster of Kaelypso’s creation whom sailors feared even to this day.
The creature hadn’t been spotted in centuries, and now she knew why—Levaia had been guarding Maerinys.
The dragon watched as she glided toward it, its eyes shining like orbs when she looked up and broke the surface. Its jaw fell open, revealing several rows of giant flesh-shredding teeth; its head tilted to the side in curiosity.
Esmyra mimicked the movements, taking in the view. When her hand lifted, the creature lowered its head as water sluiced off its scaled crown. A soft, purring noise echoed from its throat, and Esmyra smiled softly before laying her palm between its vibrant eyes.
Warmth flooded her the moment she brushed the roughness of its scales.
A hum ravaged her body and soul. And for the first time in what felt like months, her heart didn’t ache. There was a sudden sense of belonging, reclaiming what was hers.
Esmyra kept her hand pressed gently to the serpent’s brow, her thumb stroking the cool scales. “Did you sense who I was that day in the trench?” Her voice cracked halfway through the words. “Did you sense Kaelypso? Is that why you swam up from the depths?”
The beast said nothing. Of course, it said nothing. It didn’t have a voice, at least not one she could understand, anyway.
She dropped her hand, the water swirling around her waist.
“I’m talking to a monster like it’s a person,” she muttered to herself, blowing out a breath to get a piece of hair out of her face.
The dragon’s purr suddenly deepened, and a flash of razor-like pearlescent teeth shone in the moonlight as it lifted its lips.
“I’m sorry.” Esmyra smirked. “You don’t like being called a monster, do you?”
The rumbling growl settled.
“Me either,” she said with a quiet laugh.
Esmyra’s gaze lifted again to the stars above, noting how Levaia appeared when she had begged for a sign. A sign that she was on the right path.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Not to the serpent, but to the stars. To her father who sent her the sign she begged for even from the afterlife.
“Levaia will always protect us,” Kaelypso said. “My only battle lost is the one where she wasn’t at my side.”
Esmyra wondered if that was why the gods demanded they meet in Maerinys’s castle tower when they ambushed the sea goddesses. Kaelypso would’ve been far from Levaia’s reach, and she’d guarded the kingdom ever since. Had the serpent believed Kaelypso to be stuck down there as Naerysa was?
“Why haven’t you mentioned her?”
Kaelypso was silent for a moment before admitting, “I wanted to make sure you had your closure before we went searching for mine. I never knew if she survived the fall.”
The dragon shifted, and Esmyra held still as Levaia slowly coiled her massive body around her. Not tightly or constraining but with a careful, almost mothering grace. The way one might protect something fragile.
Power emanated from the beast, coursing just beneath its skin. It was raw and wild, just as Esmyra had once been.
Just as she longed to be again.
The creature leaned forward, lowering its massive head, and gently pressed the tip of its snout to the crown of hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, warmth flooding her.
“I can’t stay here.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as her heart pounded. “It’s not even a matter of pretending this would be enough anymore. Syrena… Naerysa is trying to kill me.”
“Actually, she’s trying to kill me,” Kaelypso corrected.
“Well, we’re one in the same, aren’t we?”
An odd sensation fluttered through her, as if she felt Kaelypso blush at her words. “You’re finally starting to get it, Blackwood.”
Blackwood. Not Aeress. The name choice meant more to Esmyra than she was willing to admit.
Levaia stared at her for a long, unblinking moment.
Then, with a slow exhale that sent a ripple across the water’s surface, it began to move.
Its long, coiling body swept past her, silent as it cut through the shallows.
Esmyra watched it go, following the sleek shimmer of its tail as it glided out of the harbor.
But then Levaia halted, gazing out at the ocean before turning to face her once more.
“She’s urging us to leave,” Kaelypso translated the movement.
Esmyra let out a trembling breath. “But where?”
“Anywhere but here,” Kaelypso answered.
Esmyra nodded softly as her gaze remained out toward the sea.
Behind her, the kingdom loomed with merlights glittering over its castle. No longer would she pretend Maerinys was her real home. She was never meant to stay here. Her soul had abandoned that path the day Cyrus brought her aboard The Night Wraith.
Esmyra wasn’t sure if there was anything left to yearn after in this life. All she had ever known was the seas and the life she led ruling it. So, she would start there. She would go back to where it all began, where every pirate earned their scars and name.
I need to get to Anchorage Cove.
Then, without sound or warning, Levaia pulled away, slipping back toward the open sea. Its body moved like a dark ribbon through water, vanishing beneath the waves with a final flick of its tail.
Esmyra remained in the shallows long after the ripples faded, staring at the expanse of the empty sea beyond.
And for the first time in weeks… she felt a sliver of hope.