Am I hallucinating?
The Candle is within my reach again.
I hasten my pace and gasp. On the beach, lifeless, her lips blue, lies Talysse. And next to her, half-buried in the sand, is the Candle of Azalyah.
Talysse
The Sanctuary
The sea is terrifying.
The waves are roaring, and the salty wind whips my face. The water is freezing. I bite my lips to muffle the chatter of my teeth as I shove the heavy boat into the churning water, every muscle in my body screaming with exhaustion. The oars rattle in their rusty loops, and I pray it can get me across. The tide picks up the boat, and I jump in at the last moment, grabbing the oars.
The salty spray stings my eyes, but the soft magic of the Candle of Azalyah is still there across thundering maelstroms and waves as big as a house. Elders help me. The boat rocks violently beneath me, each wave threatening to capsize it and plunge me into the black abyss below. I clutch the oars with white-knuckled hands, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird.
I can’t swim. What the hell was I thinking?
For Tayna. For Myrtle and her little son. For the faint hope of a future.
The deeper I go, the more the waves rise, cold and unforgiving. Every time the boat tips, my stomach lurches, and a scream claws at my throat.
Stay calm. Focus. Breathe. Survive, just like always.
The wind roars like a beast, and the waves crash against the boat with deafening force. Water splashes my face, cold as ice, and I gasp for breath, choking. I try to steady myself, but the boat bucks again, nearly throwing me overboard.
Panic surges. My mind races with visions of the dark, bottomless depths teeming with unseen horrors. The thought of being pulled down, of drowning in the icy blackness, sends a shiver of terror through my entire body.
I will die, and nobody will even know what happened to me. My bones will join the many at the bottom of this Elders cursed bay, picked clean by the crabs.
And then they’ll come for Tayna.
And Aeidas—
Aeidas. The thought of him awakens a tiny spark inside me. Gentle warmth spreads from my core. I wish to see him again, to try his scrambled eggs, to…
Nonsense. He will slay me with that terrifying magical blade of his at sight.
I am on my own. And I need to make it to that cursed shipwreck.
My shoulders are burning as I push the oars harder. The stars above me, cold, distant, and impossibly beautiful, seem to mock my suffering.
Each stroke is a battle. The wind fights me, pushing the boat off course, and the waves seem to rise up in defiance, slamming into the hull with bone-jarring force. My muscles ache, but I push through the pain, driven by sheer desperation.
A particularly large wave crashes over the side, drenching me in freezing water. My heart skips a beat, and I scramble to bail the water out with my hands. The boat feels heavier and more sluggish, and the fear of sinking presses down on me like a weight.
Please, please let me make it.The mocking wind steals my words. Who would help me? The Elders, who doomed this world to darkness?
The minutes stretch into eternities, each one filled with the relentless fury of the sea and the ever-present threat of the depths. My breaths come in ragged gasps, my throat raw from screaming into the wind. The waves grow more ferocious as if sensing my hope and seeking to crush it. The boat tips dangerously, water sloshing over the sides.
I pour every ounce of strength into rowing, my palms raw and bleeding. The ocean fights back, a final, desperate assault. A monstrous wave rises before me, and I brace myself, eyes wide with terror.
The wave crashes down, and I know, with crystal clarity, that this is how I die.
It all happens so fast.
The world turns to freezing, dark chaos. The boat capsizes, and I choke on seawater, my mind screaming in panic. I paddle mindlessly the boiling water around me when another wave rises, a mountain of dark water. It hurls the boat in my direction, and something heavy slams against my temple. Probably the oar.
Then I start sinking.
