A Shard in the Sea

⇝ prologue ⇜

word count: 375-382

//

Although I had just run miles in nothing but a thin, white dress and hard sandals, my mood was light. The blue horizon shimmered beneath stinging sunshine like a flickering lantern, and the salty breeze felt like a warm nudge against my skin.

Clear skies, soft winds. A perfect day for sailing. A perfect way to start the beginning of my life.

"Lass," someone rasped beside me, a hoarse croak amidst the crowing of seagulls and chattering crowd.

I jumped, barely stumbling out of the way as two men lugging a crate trudged by. But I could tell they weren't the ones who had called me, they didn't even acknowledge my presence as they hauled their cargo onto the Caravan, the ship I would be boarding soon.

I scanned the vicinity, searching—until I saw her. Hidden in the darkness of the Caravan's immense shadow, on a stack of rotting crates, sat a rotted woman, her scraggly hair hanging like ghostly wisps against her leathery cheeks.

The woman was watching me closely, and from the intensity of her gaze, I could tell she'd been watching for a while. "Were you calling me?" I asked, trying not to look too deeply into her withered face. "Can I help you?"

Her voice rattled through the air, disembodied and gravelly, "The ship be cursed, Lass."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The ship be cursed."

Oddly, her warning seemed to penetrate, slowly poking through my armored shell. And all the while, her face was slated with unconcern. As if she didn't care that she was making me uneasy, that she was like a grey cloud creeping on my sunny day.

My mouth felt tight and dry as I watched her, mind racing. This was my dream—this was all I had left—and I couldn't let anyone, especially not some mad woman, rob me of it. Even if there was something eerily fateful about her tone. Even though a dark, fissured part of me wondered if she was somehow right.

The last boarding call blared across the bright skies, ringing in my ears like a pulse. "Ye'll no return," she muttered after looking off into the distance. But I had already determined to hate her.

With a final glare, I scoffed at the hag and continued aboard.