Kai
Chapter thirty-six
Love & Loss
I wake before Mira, as usual. She always sleeps a little longer than me, tucked into the warmth of the sheets.
I leave her there and make my way to the kitchen, boil water for a bath, and soak in the quiet that only early mornings can bring.
Just the night crew works above, moving like shadows across the deck.
The fog this morning is thick, haunting, like the world has been swallowed whole. I keep a careful eye on the ocean, scanning for any sign of blackened waters. I don’t want the sirens arriving sooner than expected. There’s still one more conversation I need to have before they come for the witch.
Having Mira by my side, selfishly, has been the greatest adventure of my life. One I never want to see end.
I make my way up the stairs to the quarterdeck, taking over for the crewmate who had been steering overnight.
Gripping the helm, I turn us toward the coordinates Mira gave.
She found them on The Siren but wanted to keep her father’s writing, so she wrote them on a separate piece of parchment.
Her handwriting is elegant and fluid, each curve of the cursive like she’s woven beauty into every number.
Even something as simple as her writing is stunning.
The ocean stretches out before me, calm yet eerily still, like a predator waiting to strike.
There’s something unsettling in the air, an unnatural quiet that claws at my senses.
It’s the calm before the storm, that haunting silence where every second feels stretched and heavy, a warning whispered just beneath the surface.
But even in that unease, I find solace in one truth: Mira is in our bed, asleep, wrapped in warmth and safety, untouched by whatever darkness looms on the horizon.
I watch as the sun begins to rise, burning away the thick fog that clings to the water, casting the ocean in a brilliant, glossy sheen.
The deep blues bleed into rich indigos, shimmering with turquoise as the sun kisses the surface.
It feels like the sea is showing off, flaunting her mythical beauty, taunting me with her allure.
And as the salty spray mists my face, I’m reminded of my true first love. She never lets me forget her, the sea.
I listen to Mira’s heartbeat echoing softly in my ears, slow and steady. The one thing in my life that I find full comfort in. I sense she’s awake the moment it quickens. Still, I stay at the helm, wanting her to find me on her own, to gather her thoughts in peace.
Whatever waits inside that cove is close. Too close. We arrive ahead of schedule, moving faster than we usually do. We haven’t had to stop once. Part of me suspects Taika is behind it, down in the brig, quietly controlling the sea.
Once Jay wakes and comes to relieve me at the helm, I know it’s time. I need to visit Taika one last time. He approaches with a tired grin, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Morning, Cap’n.”
“Jay,” I nod, stepping aside. “I wanted to thank you.”
He gives me a confused look. “For what?” he asks, brow furrowed. “For protecting her. The crew. Me.”
Jay blinks, caught off guard. “Since when did you get all sentimental on me?”
I smirk but don’t look away. He sobers, the corners of his mouth lifting into something quieter, more loyal. “I’ve always had your back, Cap’n. Since the day I met you. I’m not going anywhere now.”
His words sink deep. I clap him on the shoulder and leave him at the helm, knowing I can trust him with everything I care about.
With that, I step back from the helm, the chill of the morning clinging to my skin as I turn to go below deck.
I’ve spent enough quiet moments preparing my words for Taika in my head, but still, there is a heaviness in my chest as I make my way down.
I haven’t seen her once since we dragged her from that cursed little hut in the sea.
Part of me expects the force that kept her confined there to rise up and try to stop her from leaving.
But there’s been no sign of it. Maybe it’s because of Mira. Maybe it trusts her.
Our brig is small. I never saw the point in keeping prisoners. If someone is dangerous enough to lock up, they’re dangerous enough to kill. No use wasting food and supplies on someone marked for death. But Taika, she’s different. She’s the last part of the map.
I make my way below deck, the instant chill nipping at my skin. A flicker of remorse creeps in, knowing she’s been down here freezing. I placed her in the farthest cell on purpose, away from any wandering ears she might try to manipulate into setting her free.
Taika sits on the wet floor, clothes soaking and clinging to her skin.
Mira, ever compassionate, had insisted we give her something fresh to wear, since the rags she arrived in were nearly rotted through.
I found a dress deep in the hold, and when I handed it to her, her eyes widened.
It was hers from a life long gone, back when she was with my father.
The fabric is the color of deep red wine.
She sits cross-legged now, meditating, still and silent. But the moment I step close enough, her eyes open. Black as the void at first, unsettling, bottomless. Then, slowly, they shift into something almost human once her gaze settles on me.
“Finally here to visit me?” Taika asks with an uneasy smile.
I step closer to her cell. “I am.”
The only reason I’m keeping her locked up is for the crew’s sake.
I can’t risk her making deals or killing someone in their sleep.
If she escapes, whatever magic binds her to her word will kill her, or worse, send her back to that rotting little hut in the sea.
If the sirens want her, they’ll surely get their hands on her. Mira and I need her now more than ever.
“So, boy,” she says, rising from where she was meditating, water dripping from her soaking dress, “you must have something to say to me?”
I shrug and walk over to the cabinets along the far wall. I can’t stand by while someone sits freezing and soaked, not even her. I grab a few blankets.
“Those won’t do any good, dear boy,” she calls softly behind me. “I can’t feel the cold.” I turn and hang them on the bars anyway.
“I didn’t know you were down here soaking wet,” I say quietly. “If I had, I would’ve done something.”
She steps closer to the bars of the cell, stopping just in front of me. “It’s good to get used to the water,” she says, her voice flat. “I’ll be drowning in it soon enough.” There is no doubt she knows that is how she will die.
“My magic,” I say, the words sharp. “I need you to tell me more about it.” The least she can do, after everything, is give me the truth. The real path to the power that’s been buried inside me since birth.
Taika wraps her long, bony fingers around the bars. “It’s strong,” she whispers. “I told you. Find Fog. He will help you.”
My eyes harden. “I want to hear it from you, not some stranger I’ve never even met. How do I unlock what’s dormant?”
Her eyes narrow, almost gleaming in the dim light, and she tilts her head slightly. “I’m a stranger to you too, am I not?” she says, the words cold enough to freeze bone. Then she hisses bitterly. “I told you… I have to die for you to unlock it all.”
I tune into Mira’s heartbeat. It’s steady, but climbing. She is looking for me. I look back at Taika, pacing again, like always. She never seemed able to sit still when we talked, like the truth might burn her alive if she stopped moving.
“I don’t blame you.” The words leave me quietly. Controlled. She stops in her tracks. Her eyes grow wide. Tears pooling instantly, clinging to her lashes.
“How?” she breathes, her voice cracking. She’s been waiting a lifetime to hear those words from me.
“You made one bad deal that cost you everything,” I say quietly.
“You fucked up, and you paid the price with a lifetime of pain and suffering. You lost your family, but knew they were still breathing. Still out there.” I pause, my voice lowering.
“Mourning people who are still alive is harder than if they were dead.”
She moves her hands to her face, her shoulders trembling. She looks like a ghost of herself, an innocent woman who has finally let the last of her walls fall. Her cries are silent at first, choking and trembling.
“Every day,” she starts, her voice breaking. She swallows. I give a slow nod, letting her know I am listening. “Every day, I wished I could see you. Both of you.” She removes her hands from her face, placing them on the bars.
“I tried everything. The potions, the spells… I was always trying to find a way to reach you. But all I could make out were fragments. Tiny images of your faces. That’s how I watched you grow.
Through flickers. On your birthday each year, I’d see you, just for a moment. I always looked forward to November.”
My heart feels heavy in my chest, like it had swallowed a stone. And then I feel her. Mira. She is near the stairs, lingering in the shadows, letting me have this moment alone with my mother.
Taika begins pacing again, water dripping from the hem of her dress. I wait. “Take your time,” I say. She stops and steps back to the bars, her black eyes locking on mine.
“Never make a deal with the devil,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I lost you. I’m sorry I lost him. I loved you both. I should’ve figured it out. I just… I couldn’t find the right spell.”
Her long, bony fingers wrap around the bars. I reach out, placing my hand on top of hers. Her skin is ice cold. “Our family is fucked up,” I say. “But you tried. That’s what matters. He loved you. I think he made a deal with the devil for you, too. His last words were, ‘Taika, my love. Free me.’
Her expression shatters. She grows paler, if that’s even possible. “He said that?” Her voice is thin, a cold wind behind it.
“Yes.” I let go of her hand. She steps back, releasing the bars. “Hmm,” is all she says at first.
Then, after a long silence: “His soul isn’t resting,” she murmurs. “He’s in pain. I’ll find him. I’ll bring him with me.”
I blink, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry, dear boy,” she says. “I’ll take care of it. The afterlife is hell if you’re not at rest. Only immortals know that pain.” I nod slowly, unsure what to say.
If his soul wasn’t resting when I killed him, does that mean he was immortal? I watched him die. I heard his last breath. Just like Mira’s mother. If she came back, could he? Or worse, did he already have an original form? And if both of my parents were, or are, immortal, what does that make me?
“Thank you. You will heal this world, my beautiful boy.” Her voice trembles, but the smile that follows is warm. “You and her, you will heal it together. Please, don’t use your power for evil, vile things. Use it to mend what’s been broken.”
She smiles again, soft and motherly, like I’d come home with a scraped knee and needed to be told I’m okay.
It disarms me completely. “We will free you,” I promise.
“You have my word.” Her eyes close slowly, then reopen, tears balancing on the lower lashes.
I never thought I’d see emotion like this from her.
“I love you, dear boy,” she whispers. “Never forget how much I love you.” She looks around the brig one final time, her gaze lingering on the stairwell. She can sense Mira’s presence.
“That girl is your compass,” she says softly. “Let her lead you wherever she wishes. She will always be your heart. Never choose anything or anyone over her. You were written in prophecy, Kai. You are meant to change this world for the better.”
She crosses her legs on the wet floor, slipping back into a deep meditative state just as I say, “I love you too.” I turn to walk away but glance back one last time.
She is smiling. Tears run freely down her cheeks.
This is the happiest she’s been in decades.
I feel a smile sneak across my face. I’m glad to be the one to give her that.
I look away from Taika to find Mira, sitting quietly on the steps, waiting for me. She gives me a smile so soft and so full of understanding that it settles the storm in my chest.
She’s heard everything. I reach out my hand, and she takes it, her touch gentle and grounding. I pull her up, and she presses a kiss to my lips, light and full of quiet reassurance.
Together, we turn and climb the stairs, leaving behind my mother, my past, and the weight of a bloodline that never loved me back.
All of it, locked in the cold.