Chapter 2
“I
t was always supposed to be him that survived.
I wasn’t meant to be the one to come out alive.
He had his whole life ahead of him, and it was torn away because of something as foolish as love.
How could I have been so selfish with his life?
How could he have been so na?ve to think he could survive being with me?
I don’t understand it, and it makes me so angry—so hurt. I am hurting so much.”
Death’s unwavering sunny gaze fixed upon her, devoid of judgment but filled with pure empathy and care. Not a single day had passed since Kaed was taken from her that she hadn’t wanted to venture into Purgatory, seeking solace from Death.
They remained silent, attentively listening as Azahara rambled through her tears. “Now I have to unravel what the fuck is happening to me, all on my own. And don’t dare say it was by choice. I would never willingly choose solitude; it was only for their safety that I had to.”
Death only nodded, a gentle smile adorning their beautiful porcelain skin.
“I don’t want this,” she continued, her knees hitting the floor with a thud.
“Take me with you, Death. Grant me passage into the afterlife. Let me be reunited with him, and yourself for all eternity.” Bent forward, her body hunched and her face buried in her hands, she pleaded with Death for release.
A gentle sigh escaped Death’s peach lips as they approached her.
“My light, you know we have transcended such a choice,” they spoke softly.
Their skeletal hands came to rest against Azahara’s head, and a radiant flood of light enveloped her.
The pain dissipated almost instantly, replaced by a sensation of weightlessness.
“As much as I long to bring you with me, I cannot do so. You are bound to this realm.”
Azahara sat upright, feeling Death’s fingers gently rest on her chin as they spoke further. “If I were to forcibly detach you from this realm, you would be forever lost, and I fear the realm itself would suffer the same fate.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t want this. I never wanted this responsibility.”
“I know, my light. All I desire is to free you from this pain,” Death knelt, their eyes gleaming brighter than the sun as they locked gazes with her. “However, I am incapable of doing so.”
Death gently pressed a kiss to Azahara’s forehead.
“You must not persist in visiting this place, for it will only lead you to oblivion,” they cautioned.
Their arms enveloped her, drawing them closer together.
The long, black cloak enshrouded Azahara, and she closed her eyes.
“I will forever be here for you. If he should manifest in my presence, I shall summon you. But for now, my sweet Azahara, this is farewell.”
“Don’t abandon me...” Azahara whimpered, fully aware of the pitiful sound of her plea. She recognized her weakness in begging the all-powerful Death to remain by her side.
“Never.” Death reassured her before gently guiding her away, back to the harsh realities and the piercing brightness of the rising sun over the Kingdom of Naverra.
Azahara stood outside her quarters, resting on the railing as the ship came to dock.
The city’s port was already bustling with life, even at such an early hour.
It would work to her advantage, making it easier to blend in when there were hundreds of civilians bustling about.
She had to gather a few things before boarding her next ship, which she had already spotted arriving.
Her eyes locked onto it as it approached the port, and a rush of memories flooded back to her.
It had been nearly two centuries since she last set foot on what was then known as The Neptune, sailing with Captain Hawthorn.
She had been wandering the city aimlessly, unsure of her purpose when Captain Hawthorn had noticed her lost expression and offered his guidance.
Trusting him had come easily because of his captivating aura.
From that moment, history had been made, and she had spent the next six months sailing aboard the breathtaking, all-black Neptune.
Now, as she beheld the ship, it had transformed.
The new Captain had adorned it with golden accents and pure white sails.
While the change did not diminish its magnificence, it now stood out like a radiant gem in the vast sea.
Hearing footsteps approaching her, she straightened and pulled her black cloak tighter around her shoulders and chest.
“Miss Rothwen.”
“Captain,” she said, facing him as he leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the vast Kingdom.
“Thank you once more for welcoming me aboard your ship.” Despite their previous conversation, which hadn’t been the most amicable, she still appreciated his willingness to assist a stranger, especially one burdened with a wanted status.
He let out a soft laugh. “It was no trouble.”
They both fell silent, and Azahara wondered if he had approached purposefully. The feeling that he had something more to say gnawed at her. In her previous life, she would have given him the time and space to decide whether to speak, but she no longer had the patience.
“Is there anything else you wish to tell me before I depart?” Her tone remained composed, devoid of any trace of anguish.
“You have a knack for reading people,” he allowed another laugh before continuing, “I just wanted to let you know we won’t collect the coin. I thought about it overnight and felt like I was blackmailing you.”
Azahara turned her gaze to the Captain, who fixed his eyes on the port. “I insist, please.”
“I don’t think you understand how much is at stake, little lady.”
She took a deep breath, “I’m old enough to have fucked your great, great, great, great grandfather and bore his children, Captain; I am no little lady.” The blush that immediately covered his complexion was gratifying. “With all due respect, please refrain from belittling me with silly nicknames.
“That being said, I appreciate that you care for my well-being enough to hold off on taking from me. However, I insist you at least take what you feel the trouble has been worth. It will not impact me, I can promise.”
She fixed her eyes on him, and when a smile graced his lips, she looked back off the ship. The men nearest the dock began grabbing and tying the ropes for deboarding.
“You have a fire in you,” his voice was gentle, “don’t let anyone blow it out.” He took his leave from her then, and she watched him from the corner of her eyes.
With a heavy sigh, she positioned her bag behind her, concealing it beneath her cloak.
Flipping her hood over her head, she gracefully navigated her way to the slipway and disembarked from the ship.
As she stepped onto the wooden surface, she felt the tremor caused by several other crew members leaving simultaneously, finally understanding the sensation of sea legs.
Struggling to maintain her balance, she hurried toward the safety of solid ground.
The last thing she desired was to slip and plunge into the water, drawing unwanted attention.
As soon as she stepped into the port, her senses were overwhelmed by the bustling activity around her.
People were engaged in lively bartering, exchanging their early morning catches, and displaying pearls and other precious jewels from the sea for sale.
This vibrant and crowded scene was exactly what she had hoped for, making it harder for anyone to single her out here than in an empty market.
She pulled the mask from her cloak and carefully positioned it over her nose, obscuring every visible part of her except for her eyes.
She felt relieved knowing that the information about her appearance was outdated.
The Captain had informed her that people would search for someone with two sapphire eyes.
Ever since the Battle at Sunfall, one of her eyes had turned to sunset for solace, its gentle blue fading from its once-dominant hue.
Her first order of business would be to find the next captain. If the Neptune stayed in the family, they would likely have been a great-great-grandson at least, if not another generation down.
When she had sent the letter to the Neptune, addressing it to Captain Hawthorn, she hadn’t expected a response, due in part to not providing any means for them to send a reply.
The fact that the ship was currently docked on the day she had mentioned being in the port meant that it was either a remarkable coincidence or they had indeed received her letter.
The letter had requested safe passage through the Bath?lisk Sea to the Isle of Ilkiz, and it included details about her identity and her previous sailing experience aboard the Neptune with Captain Hawthorn nearly two centuries ago.
She hoped that would be enough incentive to get an audience with the newest Captain.
Making her way through the crowd, Azahara kept her eyes straight, never venturing to look at anyone or anything for long. Order scouts and White Cloaks were posted about. Still, they seemed more interested in the smell of food and the gypsy dancers than a cloaked figure moving about aimlessly.
The dock where the Neptune had ported was cleared of crew and boxes, making it easy to spot a figure standing against a post. They were distinctively female, with shoulder-length raven hair and stature similar to Azahara.
It wasn’t clear if they were admiring the ship before them or were part of the crew.
Azahara felt at least asking would be a good start. It might not have been the case, but the Neptune had been around for long enough that most, if not all, would know who the Captain was.
“Good morning,” Azahara approached slowly, not wanting to startle the woman.