He swallowed hard, his throat physically working.
No… no…
I had no words aside from the denial screaming in my head. Tears pricked my eyes as a memory formed like dough, overwhelming my head with its influx. The young merfolk girl with brown hair flowing through the ocean as she swam exuberantly through the water. The freckles that marred her cheeks and nose at such a young age. The protective feeling that I felt immediately after her birth. I was only seven, but I still remember the fear when she was born. The many days and nights I’d dedicated to being ripped open by our parents just to spare my seventeen-year-old sister's innocence.
“Evelyn…” I remembered her name. It bounced around in my mind as if I’d used it regularly.
Noctis continued. “It’s the reason you went back in for revenge. I tried to find her when I searched for you, but it’s like she was missing. And when I found her…”
“She was sacrificed to the Royal Vanguard in my stead.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I tossed and turned with the night, sleep evading my reach. The empty space of dreams filled with night terrors, images and sounds scraping along my unconscious mind, a young girl screaming my name, begging for help, the face of my sister flashing in my mind. Blades to flesh. Mouth to incision. My heart beat from my chest, spreading a tightness through my worn limbs.
I couldn’t stay like that any longer, but my body yearned for rest. The dark pressed close, thick with half-formed horrors, until the hammock felt less like reprieve and more like a grave.
The netted bed swayed as I carefully sat up and massaged my temples to soothe the headache seeping in. Noctis didn’t budge from his pallet across the floor, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Sleep softened him at that moment, but it couldn’t hide the cost. His brow strained faintly. His hands clenched comfortably like he held onto something he refused to let go. Noctis slept like he was the storm that had finally burned itself out.
Ensuring my steps didn’t wake him, I walked on to sit at the table atop the main deck. Calm silence poured in from the harbor, still hours separating us from dawn, but sleep wouldn’t have me, so I stopped pretending otherwise.
I was so, so broken.And there was no telling how much worse it was about to get when my memories allowed it.
“You saved him, you know.” Zahara’s low voice startled me, reaching clearly through the casting light of the scarce lanterns. She lowered herself into the seat adjacent.
“No, I failed him. I knew the Xemaari would reform themselves, and I failed to watch our backs…” I leaned over and stared down at my joined hands in my lap. Zahara would never understand the guilt I would spend my life recovering from.
“You dove into a collapsing death trap and somehow dragged him out. So yeah, he’s alive thanks to you.” Her words were finite, leaving no room for arguing. At that moment, she was a captain demanding orders for me to cast the blame elsewhere.
“He would’ve done the same for me.”
“Yeah. He would’ve.”
I savored the quiet moment between us, secretly weighing the love Zahara had for boys who weren’t even her blood against the hollow absence left by parents who were addicted to mine. I envied that devotion, then worked to brush it aside as the harbor slowly came alive.
As dawn approached in the nearing hours, shopkeepers worked in the dark to open their doors. Horse-drawn carriages filled the paths. The scent of early baking and food sale preparations floated to my nose.
I could have gotten accustomed to being bound to the land Bound.
“Jun wishes to speak with you, but he refuses to leave Calvin’s side,” Zahara said at last, her voice a timid break in the stillness.
I gasped. “Jun’s awake?”
Zahara nodded and fell silent again, except for a small sigh as she lowered her shoulders that carried the heavy day. The chair nearly fell as I stood from the table, but the captain placed a hand on mine before I could walk off. “I owe you, water-girl.”
Risk meant nothing to me if someone needed help. Even a stranger. But Calvin wasn’t a stranger. He was a bit of brightness in the world that many times did not shine. I wanted no repayment, but therewassomething that kept inkling its way back into my mind, nestling like a curse, awaiting me to address it.
I took the opportunity to grant Zahara with the memories of my parents’ addiction, my upbringing, my everlasting trauma. Her brows dipped at every devastating hit. Silver lined her eyes, her hands fidgeting with the cloth she favored to carry.
“I’m not sure what awaits me after all of this. My parents… I was just a child, and now I will carry that weight for the rest of my life,” I choked out, confessing with downcast eyes.
I thought when I agreed to help take down the Royal Vanguard that maybe I would have a family to return to—thattheywere the main driving force of my rage. But that wasn’t the case anymore. If my sister still lived, her mental or physical state could possibly be beyond repair.
“Ain’t always about where you go next. Sometimes it’s who you go with. Lucky for you, I’ve got a floating home and an open crew.” Zahara managed a small, tired smile in my direction.
It was a strange sensation to grieve something I'd never known with my parents, and yet Zahara's offer had struck a chord deep in my chest. An aching melody had pulled from the strings, settling in my bones with a sense of hope and comfort for what may lie ahead.
I stepped softly down to the map room, ensuring I didn’t wake Noctis as I passed the crew quarters. The narrow corridor cast in darkness, a hanging lantern the only means of light.
