CHAPTER TEN
Silence lingered as we sailed west toward Waning Isle that evening, the strip of land that guarded the entrance to Shadeborne Bound. The night before offered only silence and guarded rest, sleep occurring in shifts in case the Royal Vanguard wished to strike again.
Too many dead. So much blood.
The quiet brought a solace needed to breathe after the overwhelming information thrown at me. I became a new person after my sacrifice, and those that were once a part would need to mold and accept it. Noctis included.
Blood slickened the deck across the ship, and I worked to swallow the bile that surged upon seeing the crimson honeyed liquid painting the wood.
Visions replayed in my mind of the city inhabitants crushed beneath the Oricaan gilded beast, the agonizing crunch that flitted in my ears for hours afterward.
I had known fear far more than any normal person should, yet nothing scared me as much as the memories of that day resurfacing.
I overlooked the sea that crashed against the sides of the ship, preparing myself for the next three-night sail.
Under the pale moon, the ocean surged, each swell flashing white like bone beneath the surface.
Somehow the water brought me peace but only overlooking it as if I belonged above the waves.
My silver silken hair drifted with the passing wind, and I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, replaying the day's events, digging into my mind and trying to tear down the mental shields that blocked my memories.
All I wanted was to know what I lost.
Zahara wrapped my crushed ankle hours prior just until Jun could rest enough to replenish his powers and heal us all.
But I couldn’t find it in myself to ask him after we met his father; however, he didn’t seem too fazed anymore by the harsh words the commander of the Royal Vanguard threw at him.
Instead, he tugged his hood low over his face like normal and rushed to the rigging, hands working fast to catch the wind and send the ship surging forward.
Maybe that was the aftermath of a child born with tyrannical parents. Returning to business after a berating became easier and more necessary.
Hours passed before anyone spoke, each of us still shaken by the night.
Zahara lowered herself to the deck beside me. I sensed the pain that wracked her body, the slowness and tight hisses that accompanied the captain as she struggled to sit. For a minute, we both continued to stare out into the vastness of the open sea.
“The Royal Vanguard will be on our tail now,” Zahara murmured in the night, breaking the silence between us. The captain let out a sigh as if drawing out the time between her next words. “If you want to leave, now is the time to do it.”
I shot her a bewildered look. Running never crossed my mind, not when my people lost their lives in vain for power or when innocents fled in fear across the land.
The crew had the only plan capable of taking down the Royal Vanguard and their gilded beasts imbued with merfolk powers.
They needed me. No one else could capture the Oceanwrought trident piece, and I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but an innate part of me needed them, too.
Where else would I go?
“I’m not running,” I replied sternly.
“Good.”
“Why did Raoku let me go? He could have taken me tonight, but instead, he just… left,” A deep innate part of me begged to know ever since he disappeared, but I couldn’t come up with a solid reason alone.
“Because one out of the hundreds of sacrifices a year does not make as much of a difference as you think.”
I gasped, a whimper escaping with the influx of air and disbelief. “Hundreds? I was told it was only one every decade.” The words died on my lips. Bile rose against my throat, the acidic taste lathering my taste buds.
“It once was. You give someone that much power, even for a heartbeat, and it’ll be all they ever want,” Zahara voiced, full of dread.
We fell silent for a moment, the truth sinking in.
“Do you ever miss it?” Zahara asked softly, gesturing out toward the open water.
The ocean worked to kill me, but I escaped it, survived it… and still, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t left something of myself behind.
If anything Noctis admitted was true about our past, though, I would assume I wouldn’t have missed it at all before the sacrifice—that the only thing the ocean brought was trepidation and naive dedication.
“It’s impossible to miss something you know nothing about,” I muttered, the ache of missing my memories becoming painful. “I should want to leave, but I don’t. I feel tied to the Terraguard Bound, like some part of me belongs here. Even if I don’t understand why.”
Zahara hummed, her fingers lacing through the robin’s-egg blue fabric she fidgeted with, threads stripping apart from apparent years of contact.
“Funny. I’ve lived my whole life here, in the Terraguard Bound.
The soil’s in my blood,” she sighed with a bitter edge.
“But my heart? It’s out there somewhere beneath those waves. The ocean keeps what it takes.”
She quickly averted her gaze, her empty hand lifting to her face, wiping away tears that silently slid down her ebony skin.
Whatever she lost was enough for her to wage war, and I yearned to fight at her side.
The pirate welcomed me on the ship, saved me from the raging Tide Reapers, and her crew risked themselves to keep me alive—first in the forest and then again on the ship against the Royal Vanguard. A debt I felt obligated to repay.
“Will you teach me to sail? Of course, when my ankle isn’t shattered to oblivion,” I asked with a slight chuckle, not wanting to push Zahara to speak on her losses, especially when it didn’t seem she felt comfortable.
Grief isn’t a tale you can pull from someone.
It’s one they offer when they are ready to bear the weight of the words.
I also needed something to keep my mind busy, something to do with my hands that didn’t involve flipping a dagger like practiced ease.
“I will,” Zahara answered, her voice faintly shaking. “Because you sacrificed yourself tonight for me and my boys.”
Sacrificed. In a different context, that word tore into my being, but to sacrifice for the ones I already cared about gave me a sense of pride.
“How long have you known them?”
“Almost two years. It truly seems that people keep showing up on my ship right when they’re needed.”
The captain paused, drawing a shaky breath that seemed to carry years of pain. Then, her voice broke, soft and heavy, like a wound reopened.
“Jun and Calvin… they’re all that remain of my world now.”
My hand wrapped around hers, offering what little comfort I could. Zahara accepted it. Some pains aren’t meant to be understood… and hers was one of them. But I could help keep the ones I began to cherish safe.
“When we find the trident, I hope you use the titan to painfully tear down the monster that stole your heart from you.” Fury laced my voice.
“I’ll tear through every sea beast out there. One by one.”
“Then let’s burn it all down, by the gods.”
“By the gods, except… not Noctis.”
The next morning, Jun leaned against a barrel, the soft glow of his palms emanating into his torso.
The gentle, cooling breeze flowed across my face, my eyes flitting closed at the touch.
The bow of the ship became my most enjoyable place to sit.
Nothing but open water lay ahead from that spot—no war, no lovestruck god, and no sacrifices.
The ocean’s rhythm danced wilder at the front, rolling over the crest of waves.
An incandescent splendor radiated across Jun’s abdomen, and the moment he took a full breath, his eyes flickered closed.
I envied the relief that overwhelmed him, especially as my leg engulfed in flames, the sharp agony ripping into me all night.
Sleep evaded me, even though Noctis did not return to the crew’s quarters, granting me the room to myself.
Jun gestured, his deep voice calm and smooth.
“Come.”
I scooted along my backside, settling before him with legs crossed, but when he reached for my shattered ankle, I flinched with a sharp gasp. Pain flashed through the leg in sharp strikes.
“I meant to tell you thank you for coming to my rescue,” he said evenly as he lifted my pants up to the knee. The melody of his voice soothed my nerves. Poetic and quiet.
“I got one. You got twenty. I'd say we really balanced the scales,” I chuckled sarcastically.
His laugh flitted out, empty and unfamiliar as if he were mimicking a feeling he’d never known.
His warm hand wrapped my ankle, pressing weight into the shifting joint, the radiance from his powers dim yet growing.
The bones under my skin shifted, scraping each other in uncomfortable agony, flesh bumps raising along my body.
Blood and the twang of iron filled my mouth quickly, the skin of my lip enduring the bite until the pain slowly trickled away.
Calvin threw himself down beside me as I forced myself to breathe.
“Need someone to hit through the pain? There’s a sulking god who’s been swabbing unused cannon barrels for hours now,” he teased, gesturing to Noctis who indeed sponged the gun of each of the three cannons repeatedly.
I rolled my eyes, the radiating ache through my leg easing, leaving behind only a tinge of soreness. Speaking to him opened too many doors I feared, compelling me to uncomfortably confront possibilities I kept buried—possibilities of change, of loss, of becoming someone I no longer recognized.
“Let’s play cards,” Calvin said as he tossed a deck between us.
“Hey, Sulky! Come play with us!” he yelled toward Noctis, who glared backward; however, when he noticed me sitting beside the crew, he wiped his hands clean and stalked over, lowering himself across from me.
Zahara joined, the five of us circled together on the main deck.
Is this what it’s like to have people? I thought while Calvin shuffled the cards.