Chapter Text
Sankta Marya of the Rock - Patron Saint of Those Who Are Far From Home
The girl awoke with a sharp gasp, limbs interwoven with thick, smooth branches, her world dark and small. For a moment she thought she was trapped, that this was a prison, but when she tried to move, the branches receded, answering a distant call from within her. She dropped down, her head spinning, and felt damp earth beneath her bare feet, thin broken strands of what must once have been rope frayed around her ankles, her head reeling. Experimentally, she guided herself around the edges of this world with touch, feeling nothing but smoothness and ridges where the branches weaved together. It was circular, dome-like presumably, and she couldn't help but wonder what was beyond.
As if able to gaze into her mind, the dome split, the complicated matrix of branches unravelling themselves to a bright, freezing cold, massive world. The girl was momentarily blinded by the sudden rush of light and threw herself to the back of the dome, wondering why she'd ever wanted to leave this safe haven. Her eyes adjusted, however, and she found herself stood in a dense patch of woods, sunlight filtering through the canopy, the sounds of rushing water and animals filling her ears. It was familiar now that she entered into it but it was cold and loud and there was something distinctly different about it than what lingered in the back of her mind.
She looked back at the dome from which she'd come from and her knees almost buckled with shock and terror. Now that she looked at it, it was no dome of branches, but bones. Thousands of them, bent and weaved tightly together in a dance, eyeless skulls staring back at her with empty eyes, morphed and twisted out of shape, ribs knitted with femurs, finger bones permanently frozen in desperate claws. The girl felt her stomach twist and she wrenched herself away, bony hands held to her eyes as if it might undo what she'd witnessed. What monstrosity had she sprung from?
Slowly, she regained control of her lungs, or rather remembered that she had a pair, and lowered her hands. She almost got sick at the sight of them. Her hands and wrists were drenched in what might once have been blood, now a reddish-brown, flaky, almost like powder, caked into every line and pore, a stain. A sob was torn from her throat, hoarse, but she remembered the sound of her voice, the lilt of her accent. Who was she? What had happened to her?
The girl almost let her terror and confusion consume her entirely, swallowed whole and perhaps never to return, but she was momentarily blinded again, the air snatched from her lungs and all feeling left her husk of a body. She saw a girl made of sunlight, clinging to someone's hand (her's?), a look of sheer, pure fear warping her beautiful features. It was all she could see, all-encompassing, both terrible and beautiful at the same time. In that moment, she knew nothing but the girl made of the sun. The girl's senses rushed back again, overwhelmingly so, and she collapsed to the forest floor, panting and fighting back tears, a seed planted in her mind by her Saints, and everything else forgotten.
She had to go to Ravka, pass through the Fold, and find Alina Starkov...whoever or whatever those were.
~~
The girl still did not have a name though some memories had returned to her in the two weeks since she'd left the dome. She knew she was in Leflin, a coastal town on the Wandering Isle, her home, even if it was different from how she'd left it; she knew that people's bodies listened to her, even when their minds did not and that it wouldn't be wise to let anybody else know; and she knew that somebody had once tried to kill her. No personal memories came to her, however, nothing about parents or siblings or lovers or friends, nothing about who she was.
She'd seen the scars in a dirty mirror someone left out in the streets to be thrown out after she'd washed and stolen some clothes to replace her rags. There were two thin white lines crossing each of her wrists in little 'x's and a long, jagged one running the length of her neck. The scars had surprised her, they were unfamiliar, alien, as though they belonged to somebody else. However, she recognised the rest of herself: deep-set, murky green eyes, hollowed-out cheeks, scraggly red hair and skin which was practically translucent. She was a ghost girl, inside and out.
She kept the scars covered up, they were ugly and they filled her with a rush of fear every time she caught sight of them, she went so far as to sleep with her scarf on, unwilling to part with it even in rest. How had she survived wounds to three areas with major arteries? She didn't even know why she knew she shouldn't have survived.
Nobody else spoke to her much, the Kaelish they spoke was slightly different to her own, though she understood almost everything they said to each other. Many thought she was a refugee fleeing from the war, what war she did not know, others thought her to be a vengeful spirit, though none of this stopped her from getting a job by the docks, packing up shipments to be brought to the market or shops or to be sent out on other ships. The girl worked hard despite her hatred for the smell of fish, she needed money to cross the sea to West Ravka and it was no cheap fare.
Sometimes she wondered why she was so determined to follow through with the mad idea that had been planted in her brain, likely due to some form of head trauma or hallucination, but it was the only thing she had to follow, her only lead and she'd regret it if she never tried, even if trying meant smelling like salt and fish and pitiful pay.
The maps also seemed unfamiliar to her, the country of Ravka was split in two by a jagged stretch of blackness named 'The Fold' or 'The Unsea' and she had to wonder who and what it had swallowed because something that large had to feed. That voice in her brain had told her to enter that blackness, whatever it was, for what reasons she didn't know. There was an awful lot the girl seemed not to know. Several new palaces seemed to have been erected as well, towns she'd been sure were named one thing, renamed to something else, boarders moved this way and that. How long had she been stuck in that prison of bones, asleep?
The days mirrored each other in a dreadful way. She would wake up before the sun in the shared boarding room she was renting out with five other women, shovel down cold porridge and herring while she was completely ignored at the dining tables, work nine hours at the docks with occasional breaks and head back to the inn for a lukewarm dinner of some kind of fish stew and then she'd fall asleep listening to the sounds of drunken men on the streets and the sea pushing and pulling the docked boats against each other. It would not have been so boring if she'd had someone to talk to but people kept their distance. She was weird and ghostly and covered herself from neck to ankles. They'd started calling her Tai behind her back, short for taibhse, Kaelish for ‘ghost', and didn't seem to care that she very clearly understood what they were calling her. She didn't fully mind, at least it was a name.
Every night she questioned why she was listening to some voice in her head telling her to find some girl and to venture into a literal murder strip even if it was the only lead she had. Every night she came to the conclusion that she was just stark-raving mad and struggled to find sleep where she dreamed she was running for her life from some unknown creatures snarling at her heels.
She'd been working for two months with little pay to show for it when an unusual ship docked at the harbour. It was no trading ship, too ornate, but not an army ship and it bore no flag other than a running hound on a plain field. Pirates? It seemed like it, The Wandering Isle had no quarrel with pirates however, they were welcomed and they sold most of their bounties at the markets in larger port cities and villages. Still, the girl watched some of the crew dismount with interest. They looked strong and hardy, if a little vicious, like the feral hound which flew on the mast. Many of them didn't seem much older than she was but then again, she wasn't quite sure how old she was, young but far from a child.
They set off in the direction of town, talking loudly in Ravkan and shoving playfully at each other, following behind a ruddy-haired man with a crooked lump of a nose, but he was nothing but a boy! He couldn’t have been older than her. He caught her wide eyed stare and smirked jauntily in a way that made his features look wrong in the lighting. She didn't know how to explain it but there was something very wrong with his face, like he was wearing a mask of skin. There was no answer other than witchcraft like her own. However, far more interested in getting that week's pay, she set her head down and went back to work.
She forgot about the pirates for most of the day, until she went back to the inn and noticed half their crew laughing boisterously over drinks, the ruddy-haired boy, their captain she assumed, disappearing behind a door with the innkeeper. Warily, she took her usual seat at the far end of the dining hall and picked at her stew, cod that particular evening. She had gotten the week's pay already and it still wasn't enough to buy her passage even two cities down, at this rate she'd be working for years before she had enough to get herself to Ravka. It was thoroughly disheartening.
The crew left and the girl went to bed and the torches were dimmed and still the boy-captain had not come out. Too tired to care, the girl fell asleep in her shared room, trying not to let her tears fall, homesick for something she couldn't remember.
She dreamt of hounds chasing her through the woods she'd woken up in, nipping and snarling at her heels and the hem of her dress. She ran endlessly, not really going anywhere, just away. The hounds got closer with every step forwards until she realised she was actually stepping back and then she was running to them, into their gaping maws, ready and eager to let them tear her apart.
She awoke with a soft gasp, hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks with sweat and her pillow damp with tears. For a few seconds she sat upright, arms held close to her chest, shaking, peering around the dark room to see if there were feral hounds waiting silently in one of the shadowy corners, looking to rip into her.
After a few minutes of breathing, the girl managed to ground herself and slipped out of her rickety bed. It seemed she hadn't woken any of the other women, good, that would've been embarrassing. Quietly, she padded her way to the only window of the room and gazed out. It was a full moon, bright and unobscured by clouds, catching in the single unfurled sail of one ship. That was odd, all the other ships were completely docked, their sails wrapped and masts down and she knew for a fact no ships were supposed to be coming in or out that night.
Just as she'd been ready to go back to bed, uncaring, a figure darted out and ran under her window, collar turned upwards to shield their face. They made a speedy beeline for the docks. As they streaked off, the moonlight caught on something held tightly in their hands. Now, the girl could have gone back to bed to get a full night's sleep before work the following day, but she'd apparently never been the kind of person to just let things happen.
~~
It was surprisingly easy to sneak onto the ship, only a few of the crew were still awake and she slipped by them unnoticed, like a ghost, before they began to arouse the rest of the crew. She hid in the middle of a stack of crates, just able to peer out onto the deck. The captain disappeared through a large door with whatever he'd taken from the inn and when he came back out, his hands were empty. The girl immediately began to regret following him and wished she was back in the inn, not-so-peacefully sleeping.
He began to bark orders in a language that took her a while to understand as he spoke it so quickly. It was Ravkan, but different, softer sounds, more nasally, but it was close enough to the Ravkan she knew to gather that they were leaving the Wandering Isle altogether. Shit.
The girl floundered in her hiding spot, debating breaking free and jumping from the ship to swim back or to stay where she was. Why had she even followed him in the first place? Had she actually thought she could catch him in the act of stealing and hand him over for a hefty reward to buy her passage across the True Sea? Stupid. Or lucky. Perhaps they were headed exactly where she needed to be and she could slip out as soon as they docked. Would they notice a dent in their food and water reserves?
One thing she'd realised about herself in the two months trying to figure out who she was, was that she was the type of person who after acting rashly, would overthink everything and lose herself deep within her mind. She'd done it again, so invested in her thoughts and plans that she hadn't noticed the top crate being heaved off the pile, leaving her completely exposed to a startled crew, not realising until she'd been seized by the scruff of her neck and thrown to the deck like a sack of potatoes.
Dozens of cruel, hard eyes stared down at her crumpled figure. They were all far larger than she was, most of them scarred, dirty, and all of different nationalities. She saw Zemeni, Suli, Ravkan, Shu, all together on the same crew, that was rare. Saints, she'd forgotten that they were pirates and not just a bunch of kids fooling about. Time to plead insanity or stupidity and find out if she was a good actress.
Crocodile tears welling up in her large eyes, she began to sputter nonsense in rapid-fire Kaelish, accentuating her accent so it would be difficult for even natives to discern what she was saying. The crew stared down at her warily, gathered around in a large circle, completely hemming her in, leaving no gap to escape through unless she could suddenly sprout wings and fly over their heads.
"Why are there no Squallers at the sails? We need to get going before they notice something's up!" the captain's voice rang out before he pushed his way into the circle and stopped dead at the sight of her. The sudden change in his facial expression made it look like he was flickering between the faces of two different people. "And who is this?"
"A stowaway, we assume," a very attractive and intimidating Shu girl said, weapons strapped to every inch of her body, her golden eyes never leaving the ghost girl on the deck who was still fake-spluttering. "Don't know how she snuck on."
"I saw you at the docks," the captain said, there was something sly about his eyes which she didn't like. "And at the inn. Do you speak Ravkan?"
The girl hesitated, bending her head low so that her red hair spilled over and covered her face. It was just her luck to get caught so early on. She chose to feign ignorance and started spouting off a bread recipe she knew, hoping it sounded like a prayer or a plea for mercy, exaggerating her fake crying.
"Very well," the captain sighed, running a hand through his russet-coloured hair. "She'll be good shark bait."
The panicked look in her eyes clearly gave something away as a grin spread over his lips. She immediately sensed her mistake and wanted to curse herself.
"So you understand me after all?"
Her pretenses clearly weren't working so she shut off the tears and the hysteria and replaced them with wariness. "Yes."
"Did you follow me?"
"Yes," she had never felt smaller. "I saw you stealing, but I swear if you let me go I won't tell a soul."
His eyebrows shot up on his forehead. She noticed how crooked his nose was, it must have been broken at least four times and reset poorly for it to have looked so busted. "Come on."
She frowned as he bent down and helped her to her feet, one hand holding her's and the other resting on the small of her back, guiding her away. The Shu girl and a massive boy who looked very like her tried to follow but the captain waved them and anyone else off. "Everyone back to your posts, we've got places to be."
Reluctantly, the crew dispersed, shooting her suspicious looks as she was ushered gently but firmly towards the captain's cabin. It wasn't a particularly large or lavish room but it was tidy and looked comfortable enough though the desk was strewn with papers and drawings and metal tools which looked alien to her. He pushed her down into a seat opposite the desk.
"What's your name?"
The girl paused, holding her arms close around her stomach. "I don't have one."
"What do you mean, you don't have a name?" His voice was incredulous. "Were your parents too lazy?"
She hadn't spoken to anyone properly in months and she felt the words wanting to spill from her lips, to divulge her few secrets. "Well, I must have one but I can't remember it."
"You can't remember?" She was surprised he hadn't run her through with his sword or at the very least looked dubious, he actually looked like he believed her despite the slight edge of mocking in his voice.
"I can't remember anything." Though she tried to keep her voice level, it cracked and splintered with frustration and her bony fingers danced with the sleeves of her nightgown in a desperate attempt to keep herself calm. "I just wanted passage across the sea."
"Why is that?"
"To find someone...I can work, you know!" the words slipped out before she could stop them, she hadn't wanted to make her desperation obvious but it was too late now. "I can cook, and clean, and man a sail!"
"You are a Squaller then?"
She frowned. "What's that?"
His eyebrows were now impossibly close to his hairline. "You don't know what Grisha are? Kailleach? Zowa? I don't know the word in more languages-Saints, have you forgotten more than your name?"
"Fine! Yes, I don't remember anything!" She could feel her pale cheeks heating up in embarrassment and tried to will it away, she was so pale the colour would be visible even in the low candlelight. "But I'm not stupid, I can read and write, I'm educated!"
She hated that he laughed at her, a belly-laugh. "I'd be worried if you couldn't, might think you were raised by wolves in the woods."
Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed into a glare. "I don't know where you're from, but for my people, education is a privilege few can afford."
"Are you from the Stone Age?"
She wanted to hit him. She almost did. "Maybe shark bait would be a mercy compared to sailing with you!"
So apparently she had a temper. He laughed again though it seemed a bit forced this time, the corners of his eyes didn't crinkle like they had before. "Why did you follow me? Because I know it wasn't for my disastrously handsome looks or my charming flair."
The girl frowned, the hatred for him festering in the pit of her stomach like boiling oil. "You were stealing, thought I might get a reward if I handed you over to the local constabulary, I already told you that."
"And what would you use that money for?"
"To buy myself passage across the sea!" she was getting frustrated now, tired too. "I already said that too, I don't have any ulterior motives."
He was silent for a second but then he took a sharp inhale of breath and said, "I can bring you as far as Kerch, Ketterdam, specifically. We're not diverting our course so we can only bring you so far as there. I can promise however, that the fare from Kerch to Ravka is far more affordable, you shouldn’t have trouble finding another ship.”
She looked up at him sharply, warily. What happened to shark bait? She wanted to ask why he'd changed his mind but instead she only muttered a reluctant: "Thank you."
He leaned against a large oaken chest and crossed his arms tightly. "What should we call you, No Name?"
She scowled, annoyed again despite his mercy. "The other dock workers called me Tai or Taibhse. I'm fine with that."
He laughed again, eyes crinkled. "Ghost? Well they're not wrong."
Panicked, her spine stiffened. "You speak Kaelish?"
"Yes, I'm fluent actually, you'll have to write down that bread recipe for me sometime, Tai."