Please don't forget to leave a vote and a comment if you enjoyed this part!
Vivian barely slept.
It was as if she were already haunted by the sounds she had yet to hear. The sounds of a drowning man, begging for his life, choking and inhaling bitter water—
She sat up, her breaths coming too quickly. It was still dark out and the pod was sound asleep around her, oblivious to her internal struggles.
Vivian calmed a bit as she looked around and saw no drowning man, no corpse blue from lack of oxygen, but her stomach began to twist painfully.
It was too hot. She needed a walk.
She chose a path at random, moving easily through the thick foliage. Navigating the island was as second nature as swimming to her. She was confident that, even in the dark, she wouldn't get lost. Besides, nearly every path on the island led to the shelter one way or another. It was impossible to get lost as long as you knew that.
Vivian walked at an upbeat pace for several minutes, her skin quickly becoming covered in a light layer of perspiration. She craved the cool sea breeze that she would soon reach.
The forest full of life and the sounds of crickets and croaking frogs soon gave way to white sand glistening under the moonlight. The tide was still high and waves rolled over the sand and crashed against the shore, forming the sound of the ocean that Vivian had often fallen asleep to, and her eyes began to droop. But she kept walking until she stood in the waves, not caring that the bottoms of her leggings were getting wet. They'd be soaked thoroughly in the morning when she had to swim to the mainland, anyway.
Her eyes scanned the dark horizon. There was no sign of the sun just yet. The only source of light was the moon, nearly full, and the millions of stars dotting the sky. She couldn't see the mainland right now, although she knew in the daytime that a tiny speck of green was visible from this beach. It was the southernmost part of Dral, where she and Aiyana had had their quick adventure the previous afternoon.
Vivian took a deep breath. Salt, water, fish, freedom.
For as long as she knew, Vivian had always been able to smell those four things in the ocean. One was never stronger than the others; they were all equal. There was never just one or two that she could pick up. All four were always there for her to breathe. Always.
Until that morning, as she stood on the northern tip of Syrin, contemplating how she would ever be able to muster the strength to murder.
YOU ARE READING
The Siren Who Wouldn't SingFantasy
Once upon a time, in a land known as Nuvinia, there were two statements that all inhabitants knew to be fact. First, the two kingdoms of Nuvinia, Dral and Proghund, despised one another and would spend eternity at odds. Two, one should practice extr...