CHAPTER TWO
Unbearable sunlight skewered through my eyelids, ripping me from unconsciousness.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows, but the sudden movement sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me.
Glancing down to catch my bearings, I noticed a strip of fabric draped over my lap to cover my exposed lower half.
Heat crept up my sore neck, my fingers twisting the hem of the fabric.
By all that’s sacred…
The three beings surrounded me, sending me jolting further upright.
Their features cleared as the wooziness waned.
The hooded male's eyes bore into me still, sharp and measuring as if assessing my worth—if I even had any.
The lady pirate leaned against the mainmast of the ship, her arms crossed and observing from a distance.
The young male at my side shifted and caught my attention, easily my age of twenty-four, with blonde curls that fell to his rounded ears.
He smiled, a grin fit to woo any woman with his chiseled jaw, but for me, I only desired survival and escape.
I clamped my lips shut, stuck between the tangle of fear, pain, and the aching absence of what actually happened.
“I’m Calvin. Human. Thief. Mostly friendly,” the golden-haired boy said slowly as he bent down on one knee, gesturing for me to introduce myself next. His face mirrored the same worry his voice held, aureate brows drawn together in a faint furrow and teeth worrying the inside of his cheek.
“Caelyn.” My throat only offered a scratchy response, the name bouncing around in my empty mind like a lone marble in a vacant box.
“That’s it? Well, that backfired,” Calvin uttered, his lips twisting in thought.
The hooded male huffed.
“That’s Jun. He’s a brooding ass, but he healed you,” Calvin voiced as he extended his hand back to Jun, the silhouette of a man half lost to his shadowed hood.
“You’ll be sore for a few days. Your injuries were pretty extensive.
And this is Zahara,” Calvin continued gently with a nod backwards to the pirate, enunciating every syllable as if speaking to a stranded puppy.
Was I unconscious that long? Gods.
I cautiously rotated my wrist, noting the sore ache, but the once crushed bones did not grind in agony anymore.
Scars marred my body, some from the Tide Reaper attack and others that healed much too long ago.
Raised crimson-colored nodules like the constellations across the sky settled along my skin. My confusion deepened into a pit.
Zahara stepped forward hesitantly, eyes set on me, a long sword sheathed at her hip—the very blade that threatened my life before unconsciousness. And also saved it.
“Moonlight colored hair. Ivory skin. You’re seaborn. A Merfolk,” she said bluntly, leaving no room for argument.
I nodded, preparing for the fight that would surely break out at the admission.
I belong in the ocean, but why did it chase me out? Would they kill me themselves instead?
My memories were gone, ripped out, scraped clean like bone left in the sun.
Only two fragments clung to the ruin of my mind, playing on a loop like a curse: my name, and that I would pay the price, whatever that meant.
They echoed in the emptiness, over and over, until even those truths were stitched into my skull like someone else’s nightmare.
The deep, even voice of Jun cut the air. “There’s only one reason a seaborn from the Oceanwrought Bound would wash up on the shore of Iredale.” His black hood nearly blended into his hair.
The three strangers exchanged a glance, contemplating something I could not begin to register.
“What Jun meant to say,” Calvin assured gently, “is that you are the Ocean Mother’s sacrifice of the decade. From Oceanwrought to Terraguard.” I didn’t know what it all meant.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, resisting the sudden urge to flee. My skin crawled in the breeze as they all narrowed in.
Sacrifice.
“And somehow, you were derailed from the path you were supposed to take… You shouldn’t be here, water-girl. You should have been sent straight to the Royal Vanguard,” Zahara cut in, voice edged with uncertainty.
“Make no mistake. When they find out, they’re coming after you.” Jun spoke softly, a haunted edge in his tone.
What did I do? Why would the Royal Vanguard—whoever that was—come for me?
All eyes met my deranged stare, devouring me and awaiting an answer. But only hollowness accompanied me mentally.
“I mean no harm,” I whispered, a soft beg for safety.
The pirate stepped forward, leaving the two males at her back. My body shook. Death lurked right when I believed I’d reached some semblance of safety. However, Zahara outstretched her arm, extending an invitation for me to take it.
“My name is Zahara, and this is my ship. Fate delivers what we need, just when we need it.”
“I will not be sacrificed,” I blurted back, preparing to fight with my newly healed body.
“Good, because we’re going to need you for something even better,” Zahara responded with a slight tilt of her lips.
“And that is?”
“To end it once and for all.”