As the sun arched high in the sky, Caterina's anticipation began to mount. She had spent the entire morning on the beach, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of the resistance. But so far, everything seemed normal - too normal. The guards were going about their usual routines, showing no signs of alertness or suspicion. The lack of activity was unnerving, making her question whether the escape plan was still in motion.
Caterina had gone to great lengths to maintain her cover. She had convinced her roommate that she was suffering from a severe stomach ache, causing her to miss out on her duties for the day. Given the times Caterina had stood in for her roommate when she was ill, the latter was more than willing to return the favour. This gave Caterina a valid excuse to spend the day on the beach without raising any suspicions.
To blend in with the other inmates, Caterina carefully chose tasks that would not draw attention to herself. She spent hours washing her hair in the salty seawater, pretending to be engrossed in the task. She then moved on to her clothes and bedding, meticulously scrubbing them as if she were dealing with a lice infestation. These mundane tasks provided a perfect cover for her true intentions.
While she worked, her mind was elsewhere, constantly alert for any signs of the impending escape plan. Every movement of the guards, every rustle of the leaves, every squawk of the crows - she took note of it all, looking for any possible indication of a disturbance.
~
The noon sun beat down on her, but she didn't let the heat deter her. She knew the stakes were too high, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down. As the hours passed, her anticipation grew. Would the resistance make their move soon? Or had something gone wrong? Only time would tell. For now, all she could do was wait and stay alert.
As the last rays of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, Caterina's gaze remained fixed on the swaying bed sheets hanging from an old rope between two trees near the lighthouse. She sat in the cooling sand, feigning interest in her belongings to deter any potential thieves among the other inmates. The evening chill seeped into her bones, and she instinctively curled up into a protective ball, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. Despite her jacket providing some protection from the biting sea breeze, the cold was relentless. But Caterina couldn't afford to seek refuge now. The rhythm of the crashing waves kept her company as she waited, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.
Suddenly, a rustling sound from the bushes behind her caught her attention. As her eyes strained to make out the figure emerging from the darkness, she recognized it as Saulo, accompanied by two other men. His inquisitive gaze scanned her face, perhaps assessing her readiness for the task ahead. She returned his silent thumbs-up, signalling her preparedness.
With a reassuring nod, Saulo knelt beside her, the two men positioning themselves behind them, hidden by the dense vegetation. Their timing had to be perfect - they had to wait for the lighthouse light to pass over them before making their move. Once the path was clear, Saulo led the way, crouching low to avoid detection.
Caterina's heart pounded in her chest as she followed Saulo and his comrades. She had gone over her plan countless times in her head. Her mission was clear: she had to identify the person who would attempt to rescue them, likely Saulo's brother. Once the rescue was underway, she would alert the guards and ensure both were captured. This would effectively help dismantle the northern Sahilabian resistance group, clearing the path for Moundowan expansion and free her from the island. If she was unable to identify Saulo's brother, her fallback plan was to trace their route back to the resistance headquarters and gather as much information as possible about its location and operations. This vital intelligence would then be relayed back to her superiors at the agency.
As the group moved stealthily towards the lighthouse, Caterina steeled herself for the task ahead. It was a risky mission, fraught with danger, but she was ready. She felt a surge of adrenaline as they neared their destination. The night was dark, the path dangerous, but Caterina was determined. She was ready to do whatever it took to complete her mission.
The base of the lighthouse was deserted, offering them a fortuitous entry point. The door creaked open to reveal a dimly lit interior, with faint voices echoing from a hatch on the floor. Peering down, Caterina saw a ladder descending into a cabin beneath. At the bottom, a lone guard was descending the staircase, likely the one from the entrance.
Without a moment's hesitation, Saulo descended the ladder, his movements swift and silent. Caterina followed suit, leaving the two men to keep watch at the entrance. They found themselves in a submerged cabin, dimly lit by a single ceiling lamp. The guards, clearly confused, were focused on the large window facing the ocean. Seizing the opportunity, Saulo and Caterina swiftly incapacitated them.
The window offered no view of the underwater world outside, a strange obscurity tinged with dark shades of blue obscuring any potential threats. Armed with weapons from the fallen guards, they made their way back up the ladder. Under the faint light, Caterina studied the two men who had accompanied them. One was the man who had given her the message - a middle-aged man with a distinct, curved nose. The other was younger and exuded an air of authority, his strong eyebrows and muscular arms hard to miss.
Ascending the lighthouse's spiral staircase, they overpowered the remaining guards. Their attention had been drawn towards something out at sea. Following their gaze, Saulo appeared hopeful at what he saw. Without wasting any time, he signalled for them to follow and led the way out of the lighthouse. Outside, the wind howled, whipping up the sea into a frenzy. In the distance, a boat bobbed in the water, its light a beacon of hope. To reach it, they would have to paddle one of the old fisherman's boats docked on the other side of the prison wall. This meant a daring swim along the edge of the wall that extended out into the sea. There was no time to waste. They had to make it to the boat before the guards regained consciousness or the ever-watchful crows spotted them. The night was so dark that the only source of light was the lighthouse's rotating beam, momentarily illuminating their path every few minutes.
As they neared the edge of the prison wall, Caterina made a swift decision to discard her heavy jacket and boots. The added weight would only hinder her progress in the water. The others followed her lead, stripping themselves of any unnecessary clothing. With a deep breath, they plunged into the icy sea. The chill of the water was a shock to Caterina's system, causing her muscles to stiffen involuntarily. Yet, she was grateful for the approaching summer season which had warmed the waters slightly, saving them from the piercing cold of winter.
Halfway through their swim, rain began to pour down on them. It added to the challenge, making their journey even more difficult. Her arms ached from battling the waves that seemed determined to push them back. Despite the cold gnawing at her bones and her teeth chattering uncontrollably, Caterina persisted. She kept her eyes on the end of the wall, using it as her guiding beacon. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached the end of the wall. Saulo and the two men were already a few meters ahead, having made it past the wall quicker. Determined not to lose sight of them, Caterina forced herself to pick up the pace.
Suddenly, the unmistakable cawing of crows filled the air. The sound seemed to be coming from the direction of the guard's building. Panic surged through her. If the guards were alerted to their escape, all their efforts would be in vain. They needed to reach the boat before it was forced to flee. Despite her exhaustion, Caterina pressed on. Her legs felt like lead, but she willed them to keep moving. Every inch forward felt like a victory.
Finally, she reached the small fishing boat where Saulo and the others were waiting. Her gloves were soaked, making it difficult to grip the side of the boat. But Saulo reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her aboard with ease. As soon as she was safely on board, the two men began rowing with all their might. The boat moved forward, slowly but surely, closing the distance between them and the vessel waiting on the horizon.
Behind them, the island was now a flurry of activity. The shouts of the guards echoed across the water and their frantic search illuminated by the cluster of lights dotting the shore. As the boat bobbed precariously on the choppy waters, Caterina clung tightly to its sides. The wind whipped her hair around her face, stinging her cheeks with its icy chill. She had never felt more alive.
Her eyes were drawn to the inky black water beneath them. It was a beautiful, mesmerising sight - the deep blue hue reflecting the lighthouse's light, creating an ethereal glow. Suddenly, it clicked. The strange colour wasn't just a quirk of the sea but the ink of a Coroa squid. The resistance must have used the creature's ink as a distraction, using its dark hue to confound the guards and facilitate their escape. It was a clever tactic, one that had clearly worked.
Suddenly, sounds roared behind them, snapping her out of her reverie. Two boats emerged from the darkness, their hulls cutting through the water like knives. They were closing in fast, their spotlights sweeping the sea in search of their quarry. A wave of panic washed over her. Their small fishing boat was no match for the approaching vessels.
Then, out of nowhere, gunshots rang out. Caterina instinctively dropped to the floor, her heart pounding in her chest. Saulo, however, was quick to react. He retrieved a weapon he had confiscated earlier and returned fire. Meanwhile, the two men rowing their boat ducked down to avoid the hail of bullets but kept paddling, their movements desperate and frantic.
Caterina's gaze shifted back to the distant resistance boat. It was still too far away, the relentless waves making their progress painfully slow. And yet, there was a glimmer of hope. Their boat was shrouded in darkness, making it harder for the guards to aim accurately. In contrast, the guards' boats were brightly lit, making them easy targets for Saulo's retaliatory fire. A sudden grunt caught her attention. She turned to see Saulo slumped over, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. He'd been shot. Fear gripped her, but she pushed it aside. They couldn't afford to lose focus now.
With a steadying breath, she crawled over to Saulo and assessed his wound. It was a clean shot through the abdomen - not fatal, but painful. She quickly improvised a bandage, using the bottom of Saulo's shirt to stem the bleeding. Then, taking his weapon, she turned her attention back to the approaching guards.
The next few moments were a blur. Caterina fired at the guards, her shots finding their mark and causing the second boat to veer off course. But there were still two more guards, and her weapon was empty. Thinking quickly, she reached for the two knives she had stashed in her waistband. With a deep breath, she took aim and threw.
Successively, both sentinels met their demise. Their bodies slumped over the side of the boat, disappearing into the sea with barely a splash. As the last guard fell, Caterina allowed herself a moment to breathe.
The distant lights of the pursuing boats flickered like angry fireflies against the backdrop of the stormy night. Caterina could see they were struggling against the violent waves, their progress hampered by the churning sea. Turning her gaze towards the resistance's boat, she was surprised to find it was a small paddle steamer, its silhouette now barely discernible in the darkness, for the vessel's lights had been extinguished.
Looking back at Saulo, she saw his hand was still pressed against his wound. A sense of relief washed over her as she realized he was still conscious. She moved closer and placed her blood-soaked gloved hand over his, applying additional pressure to help stop the bleeding.
After what felt like an eternity battling the rain and the ominous rumble of distant thunder, they finally reached the paddle steamer. The scene was faintly illuminated by the moon peeking from behind the clouds, casting long shadows on the deck. The rough sea made it difficult for them to approach the boat, but a crew member managed to throw them a thick rope. With rain-soaked curls clinging to his face, Saulo grabbed the rope with one hand while maintaining pressure on his wound with the other. Despite his injury, he managed to pull himself onto the boat with remarkable strength.
The boat swayed violently from side to side, sending a shiver of fear down Caterina's spine. The old fishing boat seemed insignificant against the might of the sea, threatening to capsize at any moment. Once Saulo was safely aboard, the crew threw the rope to Caterina. She clutched it tightly, as she was hoisted onto the vessel. The ascent was rough, her body scraping against the hull of the boat until she was finally pulled over the gunwale onto the wet wooden deck.
A hooded figure extended a hand to help her up. The dim light from the moon barely revealed his face, mostly hidden beneath the large hood of his jacket. She took a moment to steady herself, gripping the railing as she watched two figures carry Saulo into a cabin.
The last member of their group was being hoisted up onto the boat, their old fishing vessel now a mere speck in the distance, swallowed by the restless sea. As Caterina scanned the horizon, the moonlight revealed more boats approaching from the island. But they were still far away.
Caterina's footsteps echoed softly against the wooden deck as she made her way towards the cabin. The rain was relentless, each drop a cold sting against her skin. Her original plan - to find Saulo's brother and disarm the people on the boat - was no longer viable. The numbers were against her, and the weather conditions were far from ideal. She decided to pivot to her plan B - follow them to their headquarters, gather crucial information about their camp and relay it back to her superiors.
As she neared the cabin, her thoughts were interrupted by a frantic shout from a man at the front of the boat. "Balistris!" The word sent a chill down her spine. Balistris were the nightmares of local folklore, nocturnal hunters that lurked in these waters, preying on the local Cory birds. They were said to be large, terrifying creatures with fish-like features, sharp teeth, and a length of up to six meters. Their bodies were a deep black, speckled with white dots, much like the night sky.
Before she could react, the boat began to rock violently. Panic surged within her as she realized the Balistris were attacking the boat. A sudden splash behind her served as a clear indication that the final member who had been lifted aboard the boat had, regrettably, tumbled into the water. Rushing to the side, she saw him flailing in the water, desperately trying to reach the rope thrown to him by another crew member. But just as he managed to grab it, he was yanked beneath the surface, disappearing into the dark depths. The rope was pulled taut, then lay still. The surface of the water, once dark and gloomy, was now speckled with bright white dots. It was a beautiful, yet chilling sight. Then, the water turned crimson, the blood of the man staining the sea.
Suddenly, the boat lurched violently to the left. Caught off guard, Caterina stumbled backward, her feet tangling in the ropes strewn across the deck. She fell hard against the steel mast, the impact sending a wave of pain through her head. Her vision blurred and darkened until all she could see was the moon above, partially hidden by the dark clouds. Then, everything went black.
~
Her gaze wandered to her side, landing on a window adorned with salt-stains, its soft radiance casting a gentle warmth upon her face. Outside, she could see the clear blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, a stark contrast to the stormy night she had endured. A familiar sound brought her attention back to the present. It was the gentle lapping of waves against the hull of the boat, a soothing rhythm that belied the danger they had faced. From somewhere nearby, the cheerful chirping of birds filled the air.
Turning her gaze towards the bed she lay on. She realized her wrists were bound by iron chains. A similar set of chains restrained her feet, confining her movements to the narrow confines of the mattress. She tugged at the cold metal, but it was futile. They were locked tight, leaving her at the mercy of her captors.
"In my experience, women tend to like them," a voice drawled from the other side of the room. Caterina turned to see a young man lounging on a nearby bed. He couldn't have been much older than her. There was a certain arrogance in his posture, a smug smile playing on his lips that made her skin crawl.
He was undeniably handsome, his features sharp and well-defined. His light green eyes were striking against his olive complexion, a stark contrast that was further accentuated by the freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose. His dark brown hair was styled in short loose curls, adding a touch of nonchalance to his overall appearance.
Next to him was Saulo. He was lying still on the bed, his eyes shut and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Caterina felt a pang of relief at seeing him alive, but the sight of the scars marring the side of his torso caused a knot of worry to form in her stomach.
As she was lost in her thoughts, the stranger's voice cut through the silence. "Who are you?" A wave of panic crashed over her. She inspected her hands and feet again, confirming they were indeed her own, not those of Fatima Albuquerque—the woman she had impersonated to carry out her mission. The realization hit her hard: someone must have touched her skin, thereby nullifying her unique power of transformation—a power that was deactivated upon direct skin contact, which made her always wear gloves.
This unforeseen development threatened to unravel her meticulously laid out plans. How could she steer through this dangerous situation and find an escape route? Her eyes hardened with resolve, her lips tight as she refused to show any signs of worry to the stranger. She turned her gaze towards the window, concealing her turmoil.
As the stranger neared, his presence permeating the room, he dropped onto the bed beside her. His hand closed around her jaw, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. Her discerning eye caught the intricate scrimshaw artistry adorning the pendant of his necklace. The ivory pendant itself featured a meticulously crafted design, showcasing the graceful tail of a fish with remarkable precision. His voice, once calm, now echoed with an icy harshness, "What did you do with Fatima?" His sudden aggression sent a ripple of unease through her. Bracing herself, Caterina met his eyes. She was captivated by the stunning blend of colours within them. Flecks of yellow and blue swirled into an enchanting shade of dark lime green, as if holding hidden stories within their depths.
As he brandished a knife, his patience worn thin, Caterina found herself paralyzed with terror. Her hands and feet were bound, leaving her helpless. Her heart drummed in her chest, echoing the chaos within. Trapped in this dire situation, she scrambled for a solution, but her options were rapidly dwindling. Resigned to her fate, she closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable. As the chilling blade hovered dangerously close to her skin, an unexpected calm washed over her. In the face of imminent danger, she found an eerie peace, ready to embrace what lay beyond life's threshold.
Just as she prepared to meet her end, a voice, authoritative yet familiar, pierced the tense silence, "Stop, Airas, she saved my life." Both Caterina and Airas turned towards the voice—it was Saulo, and he was awake facing them.
Caterina fixed her gaze upon him, her countenance marred by a palpable sense of disbelief, her eyes scrutinizing the well-defined expanse of his muscular torso. There was no sign of the bullet wound that had once marred it, no trace of the crimson blood she remembered vividly. How much time had elapsed while she was unconscious?
Saulo's voice, firm and resolute, cut through the lingering tension in the room. "Airas, make ready the animal hold," he commanded. The sudden shift in circumstance was palpable as Airas reluctantly sheathed his knife, securing it onto his broad back before exiting the room, leaving a trail of silence in his wake.
As the door closed behind him, Caterina allowed herself to take a closer look at her surroundings. She was confined, shackled to the bed, her limbs immobilized by chains that left her utterly helpless. Despite her predicament, her spirit remained unbroken, although the frustrating reality of her situation was not lost on her—her fate was now in the hands of these enigmatic strangers.
Her gaze naturally drifted towards Saulo, who was casually pulling on a shirt from the neatly stacked pile on his bed. As he moved, his toned back came into view, revealing another intricate tapestry of scars. A pang of empathy resonated within Caterina. Could those fresh wounds have been inflicted during the merciless interrogations at the prison? Considering the brutal nature of the prison guards she had encountered, it seemed more than plausible. The haunting memories of the atrocities she had witnessed in that dread-filled place echoed in her mind, serving as a chilling reminder of the malevolence that thrived within its walls.
"Thirsty?" Saulo inquired, abruptly swivelling to catch her eye, his swift movement thwarting her covert examination of his scarred torso. The simple question snapped her attention to the dryness that clung to her throat and mouth. She responded with a mute nod, silently admitting her parched state. Her gaze followed his movements as he fetched a partially filled glass from his bedside table, noting the glass was only half full. Taking the spot previously occupied by Airas, he sat beside her on the bed. With a tender touch, he held the glass to her lips. She parted them cautiously, her eyes alert for potential peril. Slowly, the refreshing coolness of the water began to soothe her desiccated mouth, each precious drop providing relief. As the final trickles of water drained into her mouth, she savoured the fleeting relief they offered. Though insufficient to fully quench her thirst, it brought temporary respite. "You'll get some food later," he declared, his voice firm, not waiting for her response.
Once he returned the glass to its previous spot, the door creaked open to reveal Airas. "I can take her downstairs," he proposed. Saulo gave a nod of approval and picked up a key that lay on top of his bed. He carefully unlocked her hands from the bed, fastening them together once more. He then proceeded to free her feet, chaining them together as well. This allowed Caterina to sit upright, and with Saulo's gentle guidance, she managed to stand. Although her ankles were shackled, the chains allowed enough leeway for her to walk.
With Airas guiding her from behind, they moved towards a corridor outside the room. It was a narrow passage flanked by five doors. One door, slightly ajar, revealed a cramped space filled with bunk beds. A man lay engrossed in a book, oblivious to her presence. The other doors remained closed. They soon reached a door leading to the deck.
Stepping outside, Caterina felt the sea breeze play with her hair, and the sun's gentle warmth caressed her face. Suddenly, Airas steered her towards an opening near the door, revealing stairs leading below deck. The fresh air was quickly replaced by a stifling, humid darkness as Caterina cautiously descended the worn wooden steps.
The below-deck corridor was dimly lit, illuminated by an oil lamp resting on two crates stacked neatly beside a closed door. A quick glance to her left revealed the galley: a compact wooden enclave housing a sturdy kerosene stove and a large cast iron pot nestled in a cabinet. The room was softly lit by a few portholes, casting shadowy light towards the back of the space.
Airas gently guided her to the right, towards another wooden door. As they stepped into the room beyond, a potent mix of animal scents welcomed them. Inside, six chickens, a pig, and a lone goat were thoughtfully separated by robust metal partitions. Ropes secured the animals, keeping them steady against the ship's rhythmic swaying.
Airas' voice dripped with disdain, his feelings towards Caterina as clear as the midday sun. "You should understand there's no room for a deceitful woman like you in our cramped crew quarters," he stated, his words blunt as a knife's edge. Caterina merely responded with silence, her face an unreadable mask, refusing to betray the turmoil that churned within her.
With those final words, Airas exited the room, securing the door behind him and leaving her alone in the confined space. Caterina's thoughts raced, desperately seeking an escape plan that seemed increasingly elusive. For now, her only course of action was to endure the voyage, holding onto the hope that she could find a way out once they reached their destination. She settled onto the thin woollen blankets spread on the wooden floor of the pen, pulling an egg-yellow quilt over her bare feet to ward off the chill.
The following two nights provided little rest. The floor, designed with slats to allow waste to flow into the sea, made for an uncomfortable bed. The slats also served as a gateway for rats, their tiny feet creating a constant pitter-patter that echoed in the small space. The cold sea air seeped through the gaps in the ceiling and walls, adding to her discomfort. The constant animal noises and smells did little to help her fall asleep.
Several times a day, a crew member would attend to the livestock pen. His duties included checking the animals' restraints, cleaning the pen, providing fresh rainwater, and feeding them a mix of food scraps from the crew's meals and stored feed such as hay, straw and dried forage. The food was placed in containers securely attached to the pen's walls.
Caterina recognized the crew member by his distinctive pointed nose, slightly curved at the tip. He was one of the prisoners rescued from the same prison as her. He was a quiet man, rarely speaking or making eye contact. His attention was focused on his duties, occasionally offering Caterina a wooden cup of water when he brought water for the animals. His primary concern was clearly the welfare of the livestock.
During the meal hours, Caterina would hear the muffled sounds of revelry emanating from the galley. The crew gathered there, sharing a hearty meal and drinks, their camaraderie punctuated by raucous laughter and boisterous chatter. Airas, with his constant air of contempt, would then appear at her door, bearing a platter of the day's fare. He would return later to collect the empty dish, leaving her once more in the chill and darkness. She ate quickly, ensuring no scraps remained which might attract the ravenous rats that frequented her quarters. They were bold creatures, unafraid to scamper over her in search of food, their tiny claws scratching against her skin as they devoured any morsel they could find.
The third day was marked by a merciless downpour that showed no sign of abating. Water seeped in through the slats in her ceiling, soaking her hair and washing away the grime from her face. Her clothes, the same ones she had worn since her days in prison, clung to her skin, heavy with moisture. The cold of the night seemed even more biting as it seeped through her wet attire, causing her body to tremble uncontrollably. The thin quilt provided little warmth against the chill.
That evening, Airas brought her a bowl of pork stew, a byproduct of the pig slaughtered earlier in the day. Despite her hunger, the stew quickly cooled into a watery, unappetizing mush. With her jaw stiff from the cold, she found it impossible to chew the tough chunks of meat. In the end, she left the food for the rats, their eager squeaks filling the silence as they feasted.
The rain finally let up on the fourth day, replaced by a brisk wind that helped dry her damp clothes, bedding, and tangled hair. Throughout the day, she managed to catch a few hours of sleep, her rest frequently interrupted by the crew member tending to the animals. By evening, the onset of a cold was evident—a scratchy throat and a runny nose were her constant companions. Her body felt feeble, each muscle throbbing with discomfort. Nonetheless, she concealed her ailment meticulously from the crew, particularly Airas. She harboured a profound fear of being perceived as a hindrance or a potential threat to the crew, which might compel them to cast her overboard into the unforgiving sea. Her only goal was to reach land, whatever the cost.
The most challenging part of her ordeal came at night when her coughing spells became increasingly persistent. She muffled her coughs as best as she could under the sheets. By the end of the fourth day, it was evident that her cold had worsened. The body aches and chills had intensified, leaving her with limited mobility. Each painful swallow in her sore throat made her wince in discomfort. On the fifth day, she remained nearly immobile, determined to maintain her facade despite her continuously runny nose and persistent mucus production.
That evening, Airas made his customary visit to her room, bearing the day's meal—a bowl of chicken soup. Once he had closed the door behind him, she summoned what strength remained in her aching limbs and began to eat with haste, although each swallow was an ordeal, causing her considerable pain. She had to hold her breath as she consumed the soup rapidly because she could now only breathe through her mouth, her nose completely congested. To her dismay, the rats had already closed in on her torso before she could finish the soup. Lacking the strength to fend them off, she set the bowl on the floor beside her, alleviating the burden of the rats atop her body.
A few hours later, loud voices from outside the door jolted her awake. "You're out of your mind, Saulo! She's working with them! She must have killed Fatima. We couldn't locate her. They took Ravi from her, from us, and now they've killed her. Why do you keep protecting her? No one wants her here," she heard Airas' voice, filled with anger and accusation.
"Working for them." Saulo's voice corrected Airas, a hint of frustration in his tone. "They're just using them as pawns in their twisted games, just like they did with Rabbel," Saulo said loudly, his voice tinged with anger.
Then, a heavy silence descended, and Caterina gradually drifted back into slumber.
In the depth of night, she awakened, finding herself on the floor atop the bedsheets, her extended arm throbbing with a sharp pain. Amid the darkness, illuminated only by the faint moonlight, a pair of piercing green eyes met her gaze. As her vision adjusted, she recognized Airas squatting beside her, stealthily concealing a glistening knife behind his trousers. Shocked, she curled into a protective ball, distancing herself from him, her arm tingling. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she examined her arm, discovering only a small smear of blood on her unscathed skin.
"You're aware I've not lost any of my senses, aren't you? I know you're unwell," he calmly stated in the dimly lit room.
With her throat burning and voice hoarse, she mustered the strength to respond. "I'm sorry. Please, spare my life. I'll recover, I swear by the spirits. Please," she implored, tears brimming in her eyes. It was a plea laced with desperation and exhaustion, as she had never invoked the spirits before. She berated herself for nurturing false hopes of reaching land and for harbouring a tiny glimmer of belief, buried deep within her, that she might someday somehow break free from the chains imposed by others. She had learned that hope had often been her downfall, and now she felt a pang of foolishness for the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that enveloped her in her current vulnerable state.
"I know you will," he simply replied, leaving her to her own devices in the darkened room. What had he meant by that, and why hadn't he ended her life at that very moment? She resolved to stay awake, anticipating the moment when they would return to dispose of her weakened body. However, fatigue ultimately overcame her, plunging her into a deep slumber.