Sacrificed to appease the sea, Elsie is determined to save her world before nothing remains.
On Elsie Lowell's twenty-first birthday, the seas began to rise. Harsh floods ravaged the lands, and with the floods, came something much worse - much dark...
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THE DAY HER father initiated sudden training, Elsie had remained holed up in her bedroom for most of that day.
Ever since her mother's outburst that night, something in the estate shifted. Elsie couldn't quite place her finger on what, though. Her parents seemed to come to an agreement of sorts, and all Elsie knew was that whatever had been disturbing her mother, they apparently thought would be solved with a few lessons to better her swordsmanship.
Elsie didn't speak to her mother much, she didn't even see her much. Unless it was mealtime, the two did not cross paths, and even then, very few words were exchanged. She knew something had worried her mother enough to make her behave in such an atypical way to her warm, kind nature, but she refused to pry.
Elsie heard enough during her mother's outburst that night. But still, there were times when she heard her mother weeping out of fear of an unnamed person suddenly appearing one day to complete a bargain. Her mother's strange worried transferred some panic into Elsie as well, and on some nights, she would hold Tuffy close and wonder if the shadows of the tree branches cast on her curtains were bony hands ready to pluck her from her bed.
In place of her mother, Agnes took it upon herself to visit Elsie's bedroom multiple times throughout the day in between her duties. She propped Elsie's windows open and allowed the gentle summer breeze to come through as her curtains swayed with the tune of the warm whistling wind. Agnes even went an extra step and searched the entire estate to fetch an easel, brushes, pretty paints, and canvases for Elsie.
The smell of the vibrant paints was strong but ultimately drowned out by the rivaling fragrant scents of the wildflowers, pollen, and dandelions that drifted in from the outside.
Elsie painted to her heart's content. She painted a messy drawing of the sea, the blue and white brushstrokes staining the canvas along with the vibrant blobs to represent various fishes and sea creatures that lived in harmony together. She also painted a portrait of Tuffy and was rather pleased when he remained completely still to allow her to perfectly capture his comforting appearance.
She spent hours in her bedroom that day doing nothing but painting. The door only opened once when Agnes brought her a cup of milk and a plate of freshly baked cookies for the young girl to indulge in.
Elsie's brush flew across the canvas with the uncoordinated precision of an amateur artist. She was not skilled at painting - not at all. But when she layered opaque blues, blacks, yellows, and indigos, she was mesmerized when the canvas slowly came to life with an ominous depiction of black hair, yellow eyes, and most strangely, blue skin.
Elsie was only broken free of her entranced amazement when another knock sounded from her door. This time, it was her father who peered his head in before he fully stepped into her spacious bedroom. His eyes immediately went to the canvas behind her. The dark colors swirled and danced cohesively into a beautiful mess of heavy and soft brushstrokes - the almost sinister portrait a complete juxtaposition to the florals and pastels that decorated her bedroom.
