♕ Dilynn ♕
THE SALTY OCEAN SPRAYS MY FACE, WHIPPING MY HAIR BEHIND ME. I lean my forearms on the railing, enjoying the night air. Enjoying the quiet night. Most of the crew sleeps, and so does our group. I highly doubt my King has gone to sleep though. He remains awake all day every day. Three weeks we've been on this ship. Sailing home. Back to Llyria, where we will begin everything. Begin the long and tiring plans that will bring the twins and General Landon back home. King Kamolinn still plans, he spends his time holed up in his suite, he comes and talks to us occasionally, telling us what he's discovered—what he plans to do next. What he plans to do with me. I am to go to my father, tell him High-King Kamolinn is in need of his Hunters. My father will not refuse, I will not allow him. I will march into my family's manor and demand an audience. Or so I keep telling myself. We had gotten into a fight before I left for Lodashine, he hadn't wanted me going. Told me it was too dangerous. Reminded me what Boundlings thought of us. I did not believe him.
And how wrong I had been.
I stare out into the dark blue ocean, in the distant I see a ripple. Something bobs above the water, I squint—attempting at a better look, but it's already gone. Sinking straight back down into the water.
Something taps at my shoulder. I whip around, only to see Shann, arms crossed over his chest, staring at me. I sigh through my nose and turn back around, I don't need to wonder if he'll stand beside me, because he already is. Leaning his arms over the metal railing. Silently staring out at the sea. He doesn't say anything, simply offers his presence. These weeks in knowing Shann I've realized he's a man of few words—talks only when it is necessary. Or when he's angry and spilling everyone's secrets. The spymaster, indeed.
He's been an unlikely companion; someone I had not guessed would be pleasant to me. If anything, I had assumed he would turn his nose up at me. He seemed very old school, but he proved me wrong in every way. It was good, well— I never like being wrong, but I was glad to be proved wrong about this.
Irina keeps watching me, eyes always narrowed. Warily. She doesn't trust me, fair enough. But I don't plan on doing anything to Shann. Sure, he's a rather attractive man, but we're companions. Travelers. I wouldn't even really call us friends; we talk every now and then but that doesn't mean I want to jump on him and lick all of his skin. I'm not an animal.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I ask him, after a couple of minutes of silence. Shann looks at me sidelong, giving me a knowing look. I could ask the same about you. His eyes seem to say. I exhale through my nose and draw circles on the metal railing.
My stomach curls with dread. I've been terrified to face my father. Still am, but worse now that we're nearing Llyria. Meaning I'll have to speak with him. I will, it's bigger than me and my pride to not speak with him. But it doesn't mean I have to like it. Not at all.
"Are you worried," Shann asks from my side. He doesn't look at me, he keeps his gaze ahead.
"Worried about what?" I know exactly what, but saying it out loud . . .
"Being back home, seeing your family—your father."
"I shouldn't be,"
"But are you?"
I nod, "I am— I am worried."
Shann is quiet, I take his silence to watch the ocean. The dark blue sea ripples, sending circles far out. Nothing seems to stir underneath the water. No fish, no life, nothing. It's a bit unsettling, thinking that there is nothing swimming near the surface. That the ocean is so deep and vast that the fish don't need to be near the top.
"I take it you and your father don't have the—"
"The best of relationships," I fill in, "no, we do not."
"Any particular reason?"
I glance at him sidelong, throwing him a knowing look. His eyes search mine, dark brown fill with curiosity, but he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he gives me a half shrug and turns back to the ocean. He stares out as if he's looking for something, or perhaps someone. Someone waiting for him on the distant shores, smiling and waving a hand for Shann. Beckoning him over.
I squint, trying to see what he sees. But come up blank. I sigh through my nose and turn my back to the ocean. My spine leans against the cool metal, I stare out at the deck instead. At the small table of deckhands playing poker and drinking. A man with light brown hair chuckles deeply and slaps the table, a few others join in laughing, but two foul faced men sneer at him and mumble curses the others can't hear, except for me and my heightened ears. One of the foul faced men stands up abruptly and throws his cards down at the table.
Stomping away.
I rein in my snicker.
I turn my head to Shann. "Tell me a secret,"
He starts, "Pardon?"
A faint smile, "A secret, something no one knows. Tell me it."
Shock and confusion cloud his attractive face. His brows pinch together in concentration. He looks at me then, "Why?"
I rub at the scar on my wrist, Shann notices and his jaw hardens. "I want a distraction," the truth lifts a heavy weight off my chest. I don't meet his intense stare, instead I continue rubbing at the scars on my wrists. Most of the time I don't mean to do it, or rather, don't realize that it's happening.
Like a battered wife playing with a nonexistent ring on her finger.
Twirling that invisible band around and around, even though it is gone. Even though she is out and alive, the memories—the feelings never leave.
Muscle memory, I suppose.
The gruesome scars stand stark against my skin. Hiding them is easy, I was fortunate in that sense when I know others had it much harder than I had. Went through far worse. Some could not hide their imperfections, their scars. Some choose to wear them with pride. To show the world that they made it—made it out.
I seem to be coward when it comes to it.
"I hate tomatoes." Says Shann, grousing me back to present time.
I shove my memories down and let go of my wrists. "Tomatoes?"
A nod, "Absolutely hate them. I hate them dried; I hate them in sauces, I hate them fresh, and I hate them cooked." He shudders.
I laugh. "That was your secret that no one knows?" I ask. "I highly doubt that you've never told anyone that before."
"Are you suggesting I am lying, Dilynn?"
"Are you suggesting that you are being truthful?" I counter.
Touché.
He glances at me and snorts. I practically recoil at the sound. I've never heard him laugh before. Never heard a sound of amusement leave him. Shann was always so quiet. Always so solemn.
I wish I could see him smile.
Shann turns fully, his back now to the railing as well. He looks at me, amusement faintly rolling through his pupils.
"I'll give you a secret in exchange for one of yours."
My brows raise. "You want a secret of mine?"
A half shrug, "Seems only fair, don't you think?"
I scowl inwardly. This was not what I wanted. I wanted a distraction. Something to pull me from inside my own mind. Something that wouldn't force me back into it. Headfirst.
"Shann is not my first name,"
My eyes widen, "Really?" Pure curiosity spilling off my tongue.
"Shann is my middle name, I was named after my father. The bastard. I hated that my own name was a reminder of him. Of whom he was, how he abandoned us. Left me and Irina to fend for ourselves. We were abandoned and still we could not escape him. I could not escape him. Not with his name a living brand on my soul. So, I stopped going by his name. Shann was my mother's brother's name. It felt much more fitting than my father's."
"How old were you?" I ask softly. "When he abandoned you."
He blows out a breath. "Nine,"
I curse. "You had to raise your four-year-old sister when you were nine?"
Shann's eyes darken. Memories folding over him like a weighted blanket. "I did whatever I could to provide for us. Selling newspapers, finding anyone who would hire me. I did anything, anything to keep Irina safe."
But who was keeping you safe?
I know better than to reach out and lay a hand on his arm. Offering whatever comfort, I can provide. Because it wouldn't help. A hug does not fix everything. Time does. Trauma isn't like smothering out a roaring fire. It's about giving it time to die out. Letting the fire burn and dim on its own. Not forcing it to let go.
His words sink in deep. The things he implied he had to do . . . oh Shann.
"I'm dreading meeting with my father," I admit, all right—here goes. "The last words I ever said to him that were I hated him and that I never wished I was his daughter."
The words feel like a release. Finally uttering the awful things, I spewed at him. And he had stood there and taken all of them. Stood there and didn't say a word. My patient and calm father let me rage and rage and rage. The disgusting words I spat at him. He had just let me say everything—
It wasn't right.
Shann considers me for a moment before responding. "I'm sure you had your reasons for saying what you did."
I laugh humourlessly, "I was angry, it was said out of rage. My emotions were my reasons, and it was foul."
"What happened?" A very casual and careful question.
I shake my head and push off the railing to fully face him. His face holds no pity or sadness. Just mere curiosity.
"The answer to that question would require another truth from you,"
He doesn't smile, but I can see the faint amusement in his pupils to know he's considering it.
He dips his chin. "Until next time—"
A high pitch shriek cuts through Shann's words. It has my blood chilling and my body throwing itself against the railing. I scan the ocean, hoping—praying that what I saw wasn't what I think this is. That it's some sort of night bird squawking at us. My eyes spot it immediately, the endless number of ripples heading straight for our ship. The heads bobbing up from the water, long matted hair coating their faces. One of them makes eye contact with me. The one before. Her black inky eyes trap mine.
"Mermaids," curses Shann from my side.
I curse as well before pushing back and away from the rail. The remaining crew playing cards have sobered and are racing below deck, looking for weapons.
The light brown haired man races to the helm, going to a bell hanging from the side of the ship. He pulls on it three times. He does it two more times before running back to the deck.
I glance back at the mermaids—they're getting closer, and faster.
Shann takes up a place at my side and unsheathes two long swords, he passes me the one in his left hand and backs up a bit.
The metal is heavy in my hands, but I adjust quickly.
All those years of training my body and mind while fighting locks into place. My knees bend a bit, and my feet align themselves together.
I have a feeling my stance will become fruitless against the mermaids though. They're sea creatures—vicious creatures at that. There is no way to plan this, come up with a strategy, when they are swimming as fast as they can for our ships. I have never fought a mermaid before, but if what I've heard about water sirens is correct . . . we're fucked.
The deck swarms with people, the High-King rushes towards the railing. His face a mask of cold fury.
"Mermaids, Majesty." I tell him.
He grunts in response but does not actually say anything. Instead, he studies the ripples swarming us, the bobbing heads grinning ferociously at us. Kamolinn whips around suddenly—his face a mask of cold rage. I swallow back the lump in my throat at that one look alone. Shann to his credit doesn't wince until Kamolinn's burning gaze locks on someone else.
"Logon," he calls, sheer command omitting from his deep voice. The voice of a king leading his charges into battle.
Dear gods.
He storms ahead, approaching the captain of the ship who is rubbing the sleep from his eyes and staring at the king.
Kamolinn takes the steps two at a time up to the helm where the captain stands, gripping the helm in his sturdy and unwavering hands.
Logon scrubs at his jaw. "They don't ever attack our ships," he says more to himself than the king. "The mermaids have been peaceful towards us but this—"
"Have you ever fought against one before?"
A shake of his head. "No, Majesty, I haven't."
Kamolinn's jaw turns to steel. "Well, you're about to." He booms loud enough for the rest of the deckhand to hear. Curses ring out below us, some crow out encouragements. I share a wary look with Shann before turning my attention back to the king.
"Gods save us," Logon mutters before yelling out commands. "Hold the lines! Hollaren watch the rope! Jensen ready the cannons."
I storm over to them, eyes wild. "You're going to shoot at them?" I ask incredulously. Shann takes up a place at my side. "It's pitch black out on the waters, how are you going to aim at them?" He demands.
Logon shoots us dark look. "Do you have any better ideas?"
I open my mouth, but promptly shut it.
I don't have any better ideas, but surely there is a better plan than this one.
Shann doesn't say anything either, Logon takes our silence as our answers. I turn my gaze to Kamolinn, his jaw is hard and working he stares angrily out at the waters.
"What about a shield?" I ask him, he doesn't look at me when he answers.
He shakes his head. "In order for a shield to work we'd need to be able to focus on the ship around us. But with the water moving and changing, as well as the boat—it won't work. It'd have to be incredibly powerful—"
A shrieking laugh sounds from below deck. A mermaid lays on the deck, my mouth drops open when lightning strikes her. Her tail and gills leave, and legs take their place. She bounces up on sturdy feet and surges for the pirate closest to her. A young boy. He stares wide-eyed as she lunges at him.
I'm moving before I realize it. I swing off the steps and surge for the mermaid. Shann's blade in hand. I leap for the beast and plunge the sword straight through her spine. She screeches and jerks away from me when I pull it out, grimacing at the rank smell of her blood. I place a booted foot at her rear and send her flying across the deck. Another flash of lightning has her floundering on the deck and soon after plunging into the ocean.
The boy lays at my feet, eyes wide and terrified. I reach a hand down to him; he grasps my fingers and I haul him to his feet. "You all right?"
He nods, his body slightly shaking. "Yes, miss, thank you—"
"Easton," Logon calls, concern lacing his tone. "You okay mate?"
A shallow nod, "Aye, Captain—"
"Dilynn look out!" Shann yells, I whirl around heart pounding. I come face to face with a feral mermaid. Snarling at me with a giant shark tooth in her upraised hand. I manage to duck her attack before it's too late.
Fucking bitch.
I drop to the deck and roll out of her reach. I spring up on light and silent feet. An easy calm takes over. The calm I have trained my body to learn when fighting. My mind locks in on itself. My breathing deepens. I count my breaths before leaping on her—sword aiming at her head. She ducks away from me at the last second, the blade slices half of her hair off, the other side remains long and matted. She bellows her rage at me, staring at her hair falling to the deck.
She turns her head skywards and sings. A devastating note that has me falling to my knees. I'm vaguely aware of Shann yelling at me, but my knees are locked on the floor.
Her music seeps through my bones, locking itself around my soul. My mind. She lowers her head back to mine, inky eyes deep with triumph. Her shark tooth nears me again. My mind screams at me to get up. To fucking kill this bitch, but my body does not respond. It lulls itself to sleep. Living off that one note she sang. Whatever magic coated her tongue has now locked me in place, binding my bones together to the point of pain.
She sings again, my eyes water, my throat dries. Wait. It isn't dry— it's gasping for air. It's cracked and starved.
My eyes widen at the realization.
She's choking me.
I will my hands to move, to claw at my throat— but I can't move.
Coldness sweeps over the deck, a flash of metal looms over the mermaid. She gasps.
Her head tumbles from her neck. Falling right at my knees. Blood sprays across my face and clothes. Her body collapses after her head. Her inky eyes remain open, staring into my very soul. Damning me to hell with one look for eternity. I shudder.
I can move.
I look up.
Royal O'Dea stands in front of me, glaring at the corpse at my knees. His green eyes livid. He grabs my elbow and hauls me to my feet. He doesn't say another word before stalking away from me and lunging with twin blades in his palms at a mermaid cornering an unfortunate deckhand.
What the hell just happened?
Dear gods she almost—
I don't have time to dwell on things. Glancing around the deck I see each Bastard engaged in gruesome fights. Irina at the very end of the ship stands with her hand cupped—invisible hands gripping the mermaids throat. The mermaid thrashes under Irina's Boundment but she holds firm. And with a sickening snap of her head the mermaid's neck snaps. She thuds to the floor, another lightning crash, and her tail reappears.
Eden has her back turned to Irina; they seem to fight with each other. A partner in life and battles. Eden circles her mermaid, this one grey looking with short purple hair. Blackness smudged underneath her eyelids like makeup.
Eden laughs maniacally at the sea creature, taunting her. The creature loathes it. It lunges at Eden with snapping teeth—aimed right for Eden's jugular. I move my way over to them. More mermaids explode across the deck. How the fuck are they getting on the ship? We could really use a shield right about now.
Another mermaid advances behind Eden.
Eden doesn't see her.
I break out into a sprint and throw myself on the mermaid. It gasps before clawing at me, it swipes it's talon laced fingers across my forearm, drawing blood. I rein in my cry and slash out with my sword. Piercing her throat. Her eyes widen as more blood splashes on me. I try my hardest not to gag. The mermaid clutches at her throat—inky blood flows out of her throat. Reminding me a lot of demon ichor.
The light leaves the mermaids eyes and I raise from her limp body on steady legs. Eden pants as the mermaid in front of her jumps forward. My blade meets the mermaid before Eden does. The girl whirls around, her shoulders drop a bit with relief.
She nods at me. "Thanks for that,"
I dip my chin. "Thank me when this is done,"
Eden grunts and springs forward as a mermaid pounces on Irina. The latter girl tumbles to the ground. All to be seen is teeth and limbs. Both attempting to claw at each other. Eden seems conflicted on whether she should step in and help or not. To let Irina get the kill for herself.
But I couldn't give two shits.
I stride forward, digging my fingers into the roots of the mermaids hair and yanking her off. She shrieks in shock. I don't hesitate before driving my blade through her heart. She sputters a bit. More lightning. And she's a fish carcass.
Irina bounds to her feet, snarling. "I was handling that just fine—"
Irina shrieks, staring behind me. I spin around.
My throat goes dry.
Skeletons storm our ship.
Pirate Skeletons.
Dear gods.
Their bones wobble and shriek in the wind. The clattering has my jaw locking and my heart pounding.
This is not good.
The mermaids were bad enough, but now?
Dead pirates fighting us.
What the fuck did we do to piss off the sea tonight?
"Are there any Fire-Bounds on this ship?" Kamolinn booms from the head of the ship, where he engages in combat between a mermaid and a skeletal pirate. I try lurching forward—to help my king—but Eden grabs my elbow and hauls me back.
"What are you doing?" I hiss, "Let me go!"
I shove against her, but she's stronger thank I thought. She digs her nails into my skin and glowers at me. "Look you buffoon," she says jerking her chin to my right. I look. My gods. We're surrounded, mermaids and pirates creep in on us. The pirates skulls loom into my soul, black holes where eyes should be send terrified shivers through me. This is dark magic. Dark dark magic. I have never heard of skeletal pirates. Bringing the dead back—
Realization dawns on me.
I scan the deck, looking for a small blonde head.
"Fire-Bounds!" Kamolinn screams again, rattling the wood underneath my feet. "They'll die with Fire or Sun!" the king proves his point by conjuring a ball of fire and sending it spinning straight for the pirate in front of him. It hits him with a chatter before the pirate turns to dust.
Now would be a great time for the Sun twin.
I scan the deck again looking for the tiny blonde. But she isn't anywhere. Damn it.
I push through everyone, sprinting away from Irina and Eden. I duck and dodge hands and weapons. Pushing my limbs straight for the door to the sleeping quarters. A pirate lunges at me out of nowhere. His body sways in front of me. Oh gods, he is truly terrifying. This one is nearly decomposed. He looks barely dead compared to the others. Some skin hangs on him like oversized clothing. Not quite fitting him well. He reeks of rot. My stomach rolls.
The pirate smiles at me, revealing molded teeth. One falls out and onto the floor. I don't contain my gag this time. That is so disgusting.
He squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. He pulls out something from his side.
A pistol.
It's old and rusted.
He pulls back on the trigger.
It fires—straight for my head.
I don't have enough time to dodge it. To slip away.
The bullet fires—my eyes widen in shock.
Oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods.
I'm going to die—
The bullet stops an inch from my eyes, hovering in the air.
What the fuck—
"Move, Thorne!" the king commands, I scuttle away from the pirate. The pirate growls at me and attempts jumping on me, but the king is there. An inflamed hand wrapped around his decomposing skin. The pirate screeches and turns to ash in front of us.
I can't hear anything besides my panting—my racing heart. I was almost shot. I could have died; the king has saved me for a second time now. A second time that I have become indebted to the king of Llyria. Now I really can't back down from seeing my father. Apologizing to him and asking him for his help with an army.
It's worth it though, to have the king—
"Where were you going?" the king demands, his voice laced with violence.
I straighten at the tone and take a few steadying breaths, hoping to calm the pounding inside of my chest. "The girl, she isn't— I think she is the cause—"
His eyes widen and suddenly he's sprinting down the corridor to the sleeping quarters. I'm hot on his heels. Okay, so my theory was definitely just proved correct if Kamolinn is racing down this hall with me. Well, more like flying down this hall, actually. I can barely keep up with him. I pump my arms and will my legs to cooperate with me for a little while longer.
We round the corner, and the king comes to a halt. Slamming his heels in the ground to stop himself. I don't have enough time to stop though, I throw myself opposite of the king, because slamming into him would not be one of my greatest ideas, if I'm being honest.
My side slams into the wall. My head knocking into the wood with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I slump to the floor with a groan on my lips.
Dear gods that was embarrassing, please tell me—
The king doesn't seem to notice me because he's standing face to face with two life size wolves. Guarding the girls bedroom door. My throat dries.
Two massive wolves stand side by side, the one on the right is as dark as night, luminescent eyes—glowing like twinkling stars. The other is a golden colour, with warm honey eyes. I suck in a breath— they couldn't possibly . . .
"Dear gods," someone breathes from behind me, I have enough strength to turn my head to the voice.
Tall, dark, and muscled.
Shann.
He stares for a heartbeat before jogging over to my limp body. He grabs under my shoulders and hauls me to my feet. His eyes shine with worry as he looks me over. His eyes studying a specific spot on my forehead. I press a finger there and hiss. Great, I busted open my head. My head pounds and pulses, throbbing against my temple. I bite my lip to stop from crying out.
Shann slings my arm over his shoulder and brings me over to Kamolinn's side.
He doesn't so much as look at us, his eyes intent on the door.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing," he asks, his voice low with dread.
"Unfortunately," Shann mumbles.
The wolves lock eyes with Shann, the snarls peel back from their lips and they— pardon me? Are they— are they smiling at him? It seems like the wolves are smiling at him; warmly. How is that even possible?
Shann curses, "Holy shit,"
I second that.
The wolves part from the door, it swings open on it's own accord. Okay, no, this is getting creepy. Very creepy.
Shann looks at the king for confirmation.
He nods solemnly.
We go in, slowly.
The room is clouded in darkness.
Another wolf lays at her side, whining and whimpering. Nuzzling her hand with its wet noise. But she doesn't pet it. She doesn't do anything. Anything but scream. I don't know why we couldn't hear it from the deck or in the hall, but it's all I can hear right now. My ears ring with the sound. It's gut-wrenching.
She thrashes in her bed, back arching and fists clench the sheets.
She screams more. I share a horrified look with Kamolinn, who stares at me with such horror it clogs my throat. I glance at Shann who's mouth hangs open. He stares straight at her. I limp off of him and push him forward.
He shoots me a withering look.
It has to be him. He has to wake her up.
The wolves smiled at him not us. They seemed to know him—trust him.
He has to be the one to wake her from this nightmare.
Shann must see that conclusion in my eyes because his throat bobs and he spins on his heel and rushes towards her. Shann grabs at her shoulders, shaking her gently and murmuring he name. Clementine Clementine Clementine. She doesn't hear any of it. She continues to scream and thrash in the bed. Shann shakes her harder now. Screaming—roaring her name.
That seems to do the trick because she jolts awake. Jerking up right into a sitting position. She scrubs at her face and cries. Shann takes her into his arms and murmurs to her that she will be okay. That it was just a nightmare. That nothing will happen to her.
Kamolinn and I share a look again.
I can see his thoughts clearly in his eyes. Because they are the same as mine too.
The screaming above deck quiets, then a couple cheers go out. Cheering that they won. I suck in a sharp breath.
Kamolinn nods to me, confirming both of our thoughts.
That Clementine's nightmares were the cause of the pirates and mermaids. That she is not Boundless. She is Bound to someone incredibly powerful . . . that a little girl raised an army of the dead and mermaids. Dear gods, that powerful so young. Which means one thing.
The girl is Blood-Bound. Bound to the mother of all gods; Sheerah.