Chapter Text
Cassandra did not have an end destination in mind as she set out on her journey. She only knew that she needed to go somewhere , somewhere further from Corona and closer to her destiny.
For whatever reason, that destiny seemed to draw Cassandra further north, to a large port city called Sedis. It was full of small, close-knit communities. No one gave Cassandra a second glance as she passed-- the town was used to travellers, apparently. They were fishermen, sailors, basic tradesmen and merchants.
Definitely not where Cassandra was meant to be.
So she travelled further north, to the edge of the city where it met the sea. Cassandra looked out on the oscillating waves. On the horizon, a tiny boat approached, its outline emphasized by the setting sun. It was getting late enough that high above, the stars’ light began to shine more brightly, and they were all pointing Cassandra to that boat.
She stopped the closest guy that looked like he knew the first thing about sea travel and asked, “When’s that boat getting here?”
“Boat?” the sailor scoffed. “That there’s the Great Siren. Best damn ship to ever sail this Baltic Sea or otherwise. It’ll be here before midnight, no doubt, and then it makes its next round up to Karlskrona. For a few vereinsthalers, the captain will let travellers board.”
“The Great Siren?” Cassandra repeated. “It’s tiny.”
“Aye, against the horizon, that it is, but the horizon’s a great way off. Up close, it’s taller than the tallest castle I’e’er seen.”
Cassandra watched the ship thoughtfully. She had a satchel of coins; she could certainly afford to cross the sea. She’d gone north so far, it didn’t seem right to change directions now.
She’d be taking that ship.
An hour or so before midnight, the ship docked. The sailor was right. Cassandra had to fully crane her head to see the top, where a large brass mermaid took her chances against the wind.
The captain of the ship was a tall, curly-haired man with striking eyes and a quick tongue. Upon Cassandra inquiring how much he charged to let her hitch a ride, he replied, “Runnin' from somethin', ye? naw, not from. ter. well, gran' luk ter yer, lassy, but oi doubt you'll nade it. yer can 'andle yerself, aye? only, if ever yer pray, pray dat de lord makes yisser enemies fools, an' 'e'll well grant it, jist as yer man 'as for me. 'a! but don't tell dem dat. 'tis fierce ter be roi wha established tren are wrong. illusion is de first av al' pleasures, oi say. an' if any av de sailors bite their thumb at yer, jist let me nu, an' i'll scuff dem. they're jist boys, they tink they're somethin'.”
“That’s great,” Cassandra interrupted impatiently but with as much politeness as she could muster. “So how much?”
“Eh? Er, foive gauld coins av whatever kingdom yer 'ail from, oi don’t much mind wha. me profit’s aff av de stock we brin' along, clap, not so much de 'itchhikers.” He winked like he and Cassandra were having a joke, instead of a one-sided conversation.
“Rrrright.” Cassandra offered the man five coins and boarded the ship with her owl on her shoulder before he could start another rant.
“Er, lass, just so as y’know, we ride at midnight!”
That was fine with Cassandra. At midnight, her journey continued.
In the time inbetween, multiple other passengers boarded. Cassandra watched them from atop the wooden barrel on which she sat. Occasionally a sailor would come up look as if to suggest something sultry, but Cassandra would shoot him (or her, in one case) a look and reach for her sword by her side. They usually left.
Most of the boarders that weren’t workers were merchants, looking to travel to Karlskrona to sell their wares. There were four unique passengers, however, who caught Cassandra’s eye.
Two were strangely well-dressed men, looking like they’d come from the highest order of French society-- or in other words, looking terribly and entirely out of place. They cast disgusted looks at the sailors around them, especially when two rowdy young men approached and asked something Cassandra couldn’t hear, but based on the offended gasp one of the men gave, it was nothing good or entirely polite.
Another was a young man, maybe twenty, with a long brown cloak and black hair. He said not a word to any sailors who bothered him, nor spared anything more than a glance at Cassandra. He seemed like he was hiding from something, but before Cassandra could speculate as to what, the fourth passenger unique passenger caught her eye.
She was a tall, pretty woman, but what Cassandra was most focused on was her cape. It danced gently in the sea’s wind, and with every movement, little stars sewn into it glistened in the moonlight.
Predictably, a particularly scandalous sailor approached the woman and started engaging in animated conversation. The woman, unlike the other passengers, talked back. They were out of earshot, but Cassandra could tell that the sailor wasn’t too happy at what the lady said. He raised his fist threateningly, but the woman didn’t seem concerned. Instead, she raised a brow.
Thoroughly called out on his bluff, the sailor instead bit his thumb at her.
At the end of the movement, the caped woman’s hand shot out like lightning and grasped the sailor’s hand. Instinctively, Cassandra strode across the ship to assist in the clearly rising skirmish.
But the woman turned the sailor in one fluid motion and pushed his chest over the edge of the ship.
“Fancy a dip?” she asked smoothly, while the sailor flailed desperately.
“No! Please!” the sailor cried. “Let me go!”
“Say uncle.”
“Uncle! Uncle!!!”
The woman let the sailor go, and he clambered away to where his friends stood with gaping mouths.
“Your mothers would be ashamed,” she chided. The boys nodded guiltily.
“You handled that quickly,” Cassandra commented.
The woman seemed to notice Cass for the first time. “They’re just boys having fun,” she shrugged. “I’m Aerin. And you are?”
“Cassandra,” Cass answered, reaching out to shake Aerin’s hand. “I hail from Corona.”
“Oh, Corona! I’ve heard--”
“Setting sail, all!” the friendly captain announced. “It’s a clear noight, so i’d be expectin' smooth sailin', not dat de gran' ol’ siren as any other kind!” He chortled.
With a few short orders barked at the men, the ship started its voyage.
Almost immediately, Cassandra’s owl peeped uncomfortable and shifted on its taloned feet. Cassandra gave her owl the smallest of nods, and the owl set off into the sky. How it got seasick but not skysick, Cassandra didn’t know.
It parted the waves, and the never-changing stars watched expectantly from above.
“So why are you headed to Karlskrona?” Aerin asked after a moment had passed. Cassandra looked down from the stars at her fellow traveller, who was gazing at the stars through a small circle of glass.
“Oh, I’m just travelling,” Cassandra answered. Aerin hummed her acknowledgement, but she seemed preoccupied.
“There, see? Shooting stars, just as I predicted.”
Cassandra looked back up and, sure enough, several stars lit up the sky as they fell to their death.
“Wow,” Cassandra breathed, despite herself. “That’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful, yes,” Aerin agreed. She looked down from the sky. “But dangerous. Magically speaking, a meteor shower in spring is the only night the Baltic Ritual can be completed.”
“Baltic Ritual?” Cassandra repeated, tensing. “And what does that entail ?”
“Well, for a start, the end of sea travel on the Baltic sea. If the ritual were completed, legend has it that Poseiden’s wife will arise from the sea and destroy all life-- whales, fish and men alike. The only upside is that whoever summons her receives all the gold of Olympus.”
“Is the legend true?”
“To an extent, yes. I do believe there is a heavy death toll as a result, and some female spirit ravages the sea, but I’m not so sure about the whole godly aspect of it all. Seems more the Mediterranean’s forte, don’t you agree?”
“How do we know if the ritual has begun?” Cassandra asked urgently.
Aerin thought for a second. “Well, at the beginning, a storm is supposed to arise with its heart above whoever is starting the ritual. What follows the storm, is… unpleasant.”
Thunder struck.
Just as Cassandra’s owl landed back on her shoulder with an uncertain hoo? Buckets of bullets of rain emptied on the ship. Cassandra unsheathed her sword as the sailors frantically ran about to complete tasks at the Captain’s orders. The passengers made their way to the basement of the ship-- except for the two aristocrats, who instead clung to each other with frightened wails.
Among the crowds, the young man in the brown cloak was nowhere to be found.
“What follows the storm?” Cassandra asked, shouting to be heard over the thunder and rain.
Aerin, adjusting her satchel, unsheathed a… stick. A stick? She shook the stick and it immediately unfolded into… a longer stick. Cassandra stared.
“Well, just about now would come the waves!” Aerin answered, her hair and cape whipping about in the wind. “Oh, look. There’s one now.”
Cassandra looked off the side of the ship and found herself craning her neck higher and higher to find the top of the oncoming wave. “Oh, sh--”
Water crashed down on the ship, and up was down, and left was-- well, it was still left. Funnily enough, that sort of thing isn’t affected by gravity. Cassandra inhaled on refex, and immediately pain flared through her nose and throat as ice-cold water came where air should have gone.
When the freezing water retreated, Cassandra had a moment to register that her owl was gone before a warm hand was helping her up onto the ship. Cassandra hadn’t even realized the wave had nearly pushed her off. She coughed harshly to the point where if her throat was bleeding she wouldn’t have been surprised.
“We need to get below deck!” Aerin shouted above the roar of the thunder, rain, and now enormous waves. The boat was teetering side to side like a bobbing apple. There was enough water on the boat that Cassandra’s boots were still soaked. A metal object rolled up to Cassandra’s feet, and as the boat tilted, it rolled back the way it came. Cassandra watched it go and land at the feet of another person: the man in the coat. He picked it up and whisked away beyond Cassandra’s sight, behind a curtain of mist and water brought on by the storm.
“Him!” Cassandra tried to shout, but it came out as a mangled cough instead. She pointed again, and Aerin followed Cassandra’s gaze into the mist.
Cassandra pulled Aerin closer in the direction that the man had gone, but another, smaller but still huge wave hit the huge ship, sending the two crashing into the wooden ground. Cassandra was careful not to breathe this time until she was sure that the wave had ended. She was aided by the fact that the wind was thoroughly knocked out of her.
Still, she got to her feet and pulled Aerin to hers, and resumed trying to cross the ship. A flash of lightning ahead illuminated the shadow of her owl struggling through the rain. Cassandra went in that direction.
Aerin nudged Cassandra’s shoulder since voices could no longer be heard over the roaring storm. She pulled Cassandra closer to her, and then, all was quiet.
‘Hoo,’ Cassandra’s owl scorned.
At the center of the calm, which was no more than four feet across at any point, was the young man in the brown coat.
At the owl’s noise, the man looked up, and immediately said,
“Ah!”
“Stop the ritual,” Cassandra demanded hoarsely, pointing her sword at him.
“Yeah, uh, no thank you!” He reached out a hand, muttered, “ Igne ,” and Cassandra was pushed back by a fiery force into the rain again--
Aerin’s hand pulled her back into the circle of calm before Cassandra could go too far, just as another wave crashed and died against the magical barrier the young man had set up. His hand was aflame and he looked at Cassandra and Aerin with a panicked look.
Aerin pointed her staff at the boy. “The ritual ends if you leave the circle, yes?”
“Ye--” he blinked. “Hey! N-no! It does not! In fact, it ends if I stay!”
“Rrright.” She brandished her staff threateningly. “I don’t want to hit you with this, but I will if you don’t step out right now.”
He looked at the staff doubtfully.
“It has an iron core,” Aerin supplied helpfully. “It will be a painful experience.”
“Well, I’m not stopping!” the boy shot back. He whispered an incantation, and his hands lit aflame.
A roar shook the air, sending a shiver down Cassandra’s spine and ruffling the owl’s feathers.
“Part two,” Aerin said. “Poseidon’s wife is awakening. Things are going to get worse.”
The boy reached out and shot a ball of fire toward Aerin and Cassandra.
Aerin and Cassandra were currently drenched. His ball of fire dried them with a satisfying tsssss .
“Oh! Thank you!” Aerin said cheerfully. She then knocked him over the head with her staff.
The boy dodged her attack and fell flat on his butt. “No!” he shouted. “You are not going to stop me! Igne !”
That same fiery force, more powerful than a ball of fire, pushed Cassandra and Aerin into the rain. They were drenched again and Cassandra would have groaned if not for the fact that to do so would cause a certain amount of pain.
Another roar sounded, so powerful that it blew the water until it was raining horizontally.
Another wave hit the ship, this time to their advantage, as the resulting severe tilt of the ship forced the pair downward until they fell into the circle of calm again.
“Oh, come on!” the sorcerer griped.
Cassandra looked up at him. He looked down at her. She twisted on the ground, pushed one leg inbetween his feet, and twisted.
There was a thud as the young man fell on his chin. “ OwIthinkIbitmylip --”
Cassandra was on her feet and pointing her sword at his throat before he could utter another word. Her owl gave a triumphant hoot.
The man raised a flaming hand, and Cassandra pressed the point of the blade into his throat-- not enough to break skin, only enough that he felt the edge and got the meaning.
He whimpered and scrambled backward, further away from the sword.
“What’s your name?” Aerin asked.
“Emrys,” the young man answered unsteadily.
“Emrys was a mighty sorcerer who lived thousands of years ago. You’re an amateur. Who are you?”
He gulped. Cassandra pushed the sword downward and he scrambled further backward toward the edge of the circle of calm, his hair now subject to the raging storm.
“George!” he relented. “My name’s George, my name is George, oh, god, please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean any harm--”
“Didn’t mean any harm?” Aerin repeated incredulously. “You know this spell is supposed to kill the entire sea, right?”
“The entire…? No!” he protested. “It’s just supposed to make me rich!”
Cassandra sighed. Not an all-powerful sorcerer. Just an idiot with some fire-related tricks up his sleeve. She lowered her sword. “Get up,” she coughed.
Grateful for the opportunity, George scrambled to his feet with his still-flaming hands held up. His lower lip trembled. “Please don’t kill me, I didn’t know--”
She raised her sword and with a yelp, he stepped backwards…
Right into the storm, as another raged roar broke out through the air, and promptly died.
The waves ceased, the thunder stopped, and the rain eased slowly.
George cowered by the steering wheel where the Captain had his hand gripped around the boy’s collar.
“I’ve’eard de legend av de Baltic Ritual!” the Captain proclaimed with an amused chuckle that one would not expect after the chaos that had just took place. “Never tart anyone wud be dumb enoof ter try it! don’t worry, weemen, i’ll take care av de fella. maybe 'e’d make a gran' sailor! oi cud use an extra fella ter scrub de decks, aye? Ho ho ho ho!”
“Good man, Captain!” Aerin called.
“Gran' indeed! a gran' captain, a gran' paddy, a gran' bargainer, but i’m afraid i’m not master navigator! i’m afraid we’re bloody lost, aye? not sure we’re even in de baltic after dat stunt.” He cuffed George over the ear for good measure.
“No worries, Captain,” Aerin told him. “We might change, but the skies do not. I know how to find the way to Karlskrona.”
Cassandra watched Aerin show the Captain how to find Karlskrona using the stars with unrestrained curiosity. As Aerin gestured toward the sky, Cassandra noticed a single, final shooting star crossing the cosmos of a once-again clear night sky.
That small but nearly fatal skirmish had Cassandra feeling more like herself than ever. The thrill, the adventure-- she gave a painful cough-- and the unfortunate side effects alongside. She had a feeling she was going the right way after all.
Some time later, Aerin came back to Cassandra’s side, and offered a friendly pat to Cassandra’s owl, who took it with a grateful hoot . She then offered Cassandra a small potion-shaped bottle and gestured to drink. Cassandra did so and immediately felt her throat soothed. Honey. Who carried around bottles of honey? People like Aerin, apparently.
“So, you never told me why you’re travelling to Karlskrona,” Cassandra said to Aerin, unprompted.
Aerin admired the sky before answering with the smallest of smiles, “Oh, I’m just travelling.”
“Alone?”
“That depends on you.”
Cassandra blinked. That was it. It was the adventure and the people. The facing trials with someone by your side, overcoming bad guys, the only constant each other’s companionship. That was what reminded her of home, but of the best parts of home, and made her feel like herself. That was what, she felt, her journey needed.
“Would you like to go with me?” Cassandra asked, more hopefully than she intended.
Aerin smiled at Cass warmly. “Cassandra of Corona, I would love to.”
In the reflection of Aerin’s eyes, Cassandra saw strokes of colored light. It took her a second to realize its source, and she looked toward the sky.
“Wow,” Cassandra breathed, despite herself. “Aurora borealis. That’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful, yes,” Aerin agreed,
“Absolutely breathtaking.”