Promise the Sky

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kiara

 

 

 

 

The wind at the coast is always a cold one. I like it, for this reason, I like the way it treats us all the same, as though it neither knows nor cares what I am.

And I like the horizons at the coast. They can always be relied upon to stretch out forever, until the distant waves merge with the clouds. There has always been something about horizons, and distance, that fills me with hope. An unjustified hope, but hope nonetheless.

I lean forward with a sigh, resting my arms on the rough stone of the seawall, and allow myself to gaze sightlessly into the distance. The granite bites my elbows, as unassuming as everything else in this part of the world. When the breeze plucks at my hair, I brush it away. I would rather concentrate on the desperate waves as they beat against eternal stone.

Today is a grey day, but that suits this little cripple just fine; grey waves to match my grey mood. It isn't raining, not quite yet, but the sky sends its promises.

So I remain alone, as always. Who else would venture out on an afternoon like this? It has turned quite quickly into one of those nothing days, where the air is heavy and numb, and I always turn back to thinking about myself.

Thinking about leaving.

This is not a new fantasy. The rain has always had this habit of wriggling into my soul. And then I end up thinking about my curse, about how I will never have magic or all those things that come with it; love, happiness. Things that rest of the world just seems to get without even trying. They are the things that I could have had, once, but that have been taken from me.

The spray cannot quite reach the barricades, where I stand, but still I find myself licking salt from my lips. Dropping a hand over the edge, I try to wet my fingertips but I cannot quite reach.

Crippled Kiara; born only to miss out on the things that the world takes for granted.

A seagull screams as it drops to the rocks at the base of the cliffs. I can hear the beat of its wings over the roar of the sea. Poor bedraggled thing, I cannot help but wonder if it is as lonely as myself.

And I sigh and I dream and I think of leaving, out across the sea.

I try and distract myself with all the things I love most about the ocean. But there is only really one that interests me today; the way it dampens magic. That is what I crave. Such a wild, empty, expanse; I can almost sense the rush as it sucks all out into that dead void.

The sea. The sea would be the perfect place for a wretch like me.

No magic at sea; it is too big, too open. Under a minute, they say, out on open water and the wind will suck a man dry. No magic, just like me. No magic until he sets foot upon the shore once more.

I rest my head on the stone and sigh. No one would know; for once in my life I would get to be just the same as everyone else. New people, new sights. I could travel the world, the universe, and no one would know. A girl would need nothing more than her hands and her wits on deck. I have already had more than enough practice with those. It could be the perfect life for someone like me.

...Until we made up at shore.

I close my eyes, concentrating on the icy sting of the coastal wind.