Ren.
Smoke burned my lungs. Hungry flames licked at my bare feet. Tears stung my scorched cheeks. I scrambled away from the swelling fire, and landed in the arms of a woman, who clutched me to her bosom, clothed in sooty rags. She gathered my small, frail body in her arms and moved with staggering haste away from the choking fumes.
The smell of salt water pierced my nostrils. Though my gaze was still misty from the burning smoke, I saw the wall at the edge of the vessel loom before us as the woman careened towards it at full speed. I thought for a moment that we were going to jump, but she turned at the very last moment to a line of rafts which teetered on the raised metal barrier. She tossed me into an empty one and, with a final glance at me, pushed with all her might.
The raft hurtled through the air, falling at great speed and striking the water with such force that a wave splashed over, the salt stinging my burns. I cried out. Nobody heard me. I looked up at the vessel from which I'd came; smoke billowed into the night sky, turning it tar black. People shouted; voices wailed agonised cries; screams tore through the crisp, cold air. More boats splashed into the water, their impact sending my raft away from the vessel, from my home.
There was a moment of silence before a large explosion. I turned away, hugging my legs to my chest. Debris and shrapnel splashed in the water around me. My ears rang. The smoke filled my lungs once more. I coughed and spluttered as my raft drifted slowly away from the vessel, which was now completely ablaze. I wondered about the woman who had rescued me. I hadn't seen her face through the smoke. Had she been my mother? What of my parents? Had they gotten out?
I shuffled to the end of the raft, crying out my parent's names. I was answered with the roar of the fire and the wails of the people imprisoned by it's ravenous flames. Tendrils of smoke crept into the skies, threatening to choke the stars which shone so dimly. There was no moon to light a path for my boat to follow, no helpful guide to safety.
I curled up in the hard bottom of the raft, weeping in the bitter cold of the night. Where I was going, I did not know. Where I came from, I could not return. Who I was? A question I will never be able to answer again.
Captain Hult.
"Smoke, Captain!" Chet, a puny lad in his late twenties, shouted from the crow's nest. He pointed a bony finger out to starboard side. It was only coming up to dawn, but the meek light allowed me to see a black plume of smoke rising a few miles west of our position.
"Aye. Rike! Sail us due-west, an' look lively. This aint a board 'ouse." I bellowed at a blonde, husky fellow. He was dozing at the helm, his bulky arms crossed over his body. He remained dozing. I climbed onto the quarterdeck, slapped Rike upside his dozy head, and changed our course. Rike solicited a groan of contempt and charged towards me, only to veer sideways and collapse onto the deck. He stank of ale. "Aye, that'll teach ye. Bloody drunk rat."
"Captain!" Marker shouted from the main deck. He was leaning over the edge of ship, pointing at something. "Ye might wan' ta' take a look at this." I climbed back onto the main deck and peered over, surprised to see a small raft that came from one of the fancy vessels floated beside the hull of my ship. I was even more surprised to see what was in it; a scrawny boy with darkish hair. His clothes were rags, and his body was covered in burns and soot. He looked frail.
"Come on, lads! Use some initiative! Pull the poor lad up 'ere!" Four or five of my crew rushed over and tossed a rope down into the raft. Chet, being the lightest, lowered himself down and tied the rope to the boy's torso. He wrapped the rope around his hand and gestured for the others to haul him up. They tossed the tiny boy onto the deck and Jitt, our resident doctor, checked his vitals. Once he was clear, I sent the crew on their way and crouched by the gaunt lad.
"Wake up, lad." I shook his shoulders. His eyelids fluttered open. Two blue jewels stared at me, wide and uneasy.
"Where am I?" He asked, his voice rough and filled with panic. "Who are you? Where did you-" He broke off and descended into a vicious coughing fit. I thumped his back until he stopped.
"Yer on The Marino. I'm Cap'n Hult."
His eyes widened further. He scrabbled away from me. "You- You're a pirate! Stay away!" He curled his legs up to his chest and coughed again.
"Easy, lad. We're not gonna hurt you." I looked him over. His clothes - or rather, rags - were burnt and singed, and his skin was burnt also. He had tear stained cheeks and his hair looked like he'd been rolling in soot. "What happened to you?"
He looked around, grasping at his tattered clothes and seared hair in confusion. "They're gone." He croaked, his rough throat audible. "I think…I think my vessel blew up. I was just-just sleeping, and then there was f-fire." Pain seeped into his voice as he tried not to sob. "My parent's are dead."
I laid a hand on his bony shoulder. "No fear, lad. We'll take care of you 'ere." I knew the crew wouldn't be too happy to have a civvi on board- the last one we had didn't tie down his rope correctly during a storm, and we never saw him again. However, this was different. He was a child, a boy. We couldn't turn him away. We'd take care of him. I would.
Ayla.
I ran through the fields as the sun rose out of the sea. I didnt understand how it was still on fire; Papa said it was magic, but I didn't believe him. Mama said to never believe what Papa says about magic. Magic isn't real, she says. She just doesn't believe. This feeling, this feeling of running and running and never stopping is magical.
Granna believes. She told me a story about ferries once - or were they farries? I could never remember. She said they were magical flying things which granted wishes. I tried to tell Mama. She told me not to be so silly. She just didn't believe.
The sun broke free of the water; I stopped. I couldn't go any further. The metal wall which stopped us from jumping from the vessel loomed over me like a cresting wave. I'd never climbed it before. I'd wanted to, but it was absolutely forbidden, and I was small. I was weak. That was what Mama said. I was seven years old, but she still treated me like a baby. I was big enough and strong enough to take care of myself.
It could have been the magic I felt inside of me, or it could have been something entirely different, but something was telling me to climb the wall. The sun turned the sky a pinky-orange colour behind the cold, grey metal of it. I felt trapped in the shadow it cast. I was a good enough climber; I saw places for footholds. It was possible. It had to be done.
I gathered up my little gingham dress and tied the skirt around my waist. My underwear was showing, but nobody was around, and I didn't care much anyway. My orange braids dangled to my waist as I heaved myself on to the wall, using my stick-thin legs to propel my tiny body upwards. It was exhilarating. I climbed, up and up and up until I felt as if I could touch the wooly clouds, eventually flopping onto the top of the wall.
I stood up.
The first thing I noticed was the waves. The sun glinted on them, turning the ocean into a vast sea of jewels. It was magical; Mama was a liar because magic did exist, right here in this one, exquisite moment.
"Ayla! What are you doing up there?!" My Mama shouted. Her voice was distant but I couldn't ignore the panic. "Get down, you'll get hurt!"
I turned, but my foot missed the edge of the vessel and I plummeted through the air, flailing as my back smashed against the surface of the water. The magnificent jewels had become a suffocating darkness. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see. My body screamed but no sound came from my mouth. I felt myself falling asleep, cushioned by the dark water around me, but I was ripped from the frightening peace by something rough. It enveloped me, water cascading from my body as I broke free of the ocean's icy grasp, and I was pulled into the light. Hands pulled me over the metal wall and onto the synthetic grass below.
My gut wrenched as I coughed up salt water onto the grass. A gentle hand rubbed my back. I tried to remember why I was there, but the only image I could summon in my mind was darkness. Papa sat beside me, but Mama was nowhere to be seen. I swore to myself to never to look at the water again.
