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The inky blackness of the water laps against the ship. After a few seconds, it happens again. And again. Always after that specific time. I can feel my eyes start to drift into the water, the onyx tint merging into something more sinister. Something familiar. My finger starts twitching, itching for the feeling of cold metal behind it, to feel the release of air and the clang of string against iron. Then, as I start to lean over the railing of the ship, it sees me. They see me.
First it's one set of eyes, blood red and beady. Then five. Then twenty. It becomes impossible to keep track, every wave of the ocean holds its own set of red orbs, staring into my own. I can feel myself lean ever so closer, my torso tilting over the railing, nails digging deep into the wood. But suddenly, I'm pulled back from the railing as fingers grip my shoulders, the nails pressing into my skin shocking everything back to normality. Even the scratching noise that became part of my own thoughts left, the familiar sound of rats scurrying over grass.
"Hey, no people overboard on my ship!" The smooth dulcets of the voice spring me back to reality, warm yet sharp eyes meeting mine. I let out a small exhale of breath, and give what I hope is a reassuring smile.
"I'm sorry Sophia, I lost myself for a bit. Thank you."
Evidently it doesn't really work, as she looks me over once again, and I tense up at her evaluation. Always be alert.
"The kid's sleeping, so why aren't you, huh?"
"I'm not tired. I'm fine."
"Yeah that's a crock of shit if I've ever heard it." She barks out a laugh. "Is it the ship? First timers often expel whatever lunch they had over the side, but I get the feeling that's not it."
"No no, I've been on the water before, though not as sizable a ship as this, admittedly." I start to explain, the memory coming back with ease, like it's always there. I look over at the sleeping figure opposite us, the large figure of Arnaud, torn shield lying opposite him.
The very sight of him brings forth the memory, of a raging river that mirrors your blood. And the blood of others. All your fault. Break open that gate. Load. Fire. Voices echo behind you, ordering you inside, but you ignore them. You're needed out there. Split their skulls open. One bolt goes through a soldier's eye, but you breathe it in, and load another with the next breath. Oh look, they're lining up. A quick ignifer on the bolt, and you release it into the barrel next to them, causing a fantastic explosion of fire and blood. A giggle reaches your ears, and you realise too late that it's your own, ribs shaking with the exertion. Suddenly, you feel the entire landscape shaking, and your eyes return focus, staring into a face which looks almost petrified. The first time you've seen her actually worried, come to think of it.
"Hey Amicia, you alright? You zoned out for quite a bit there."
"I-"
"Yeah yeah you're fine. No you know what, you're most definitely not. We've got all the time in the world here, so spill those damn beans." She asserts while folding her arms, leaning back against the railing, awaiting an explanation.
I open my mouth to deflect, maybe push her away, why is she worrying about me, I'm not the one that needs protecting, it's Hugo who does. He who the Macula is infecting and twisting, I'm just the one looking after him. And by God does he need looking after, always acting like the child he is, always sick and feeble. And as those thoughts run around in my head, the words escape from my lips. "There's something wrong with me."
"Uh-" Even without looking at her I can sense the sheer bewilderment. But it's too late to stop. Far too late.
"I'm just so angry all the time! I dream of blood and rats, that's all I see now, even whilst awake. And these damn Englishmen, tearing the world apart in search of whatever metal to trade for favors or food! Did dear old Arnaud there tell you that I almost slaughtered his entire army for herbs? Herbs! Because Hugo was sick, and he needed them, or whatever that old bastard told me. You were wondering why he bashed me over the head, well that's it! All because I just can't stop killing, and-" The words flow out like bile from my lips, but for the third time, she grips my shoulders and forces me to meet her eyes.
"Just take a breath kid. You're okay, no blood or rats here. Although between you and me, maybe Arnaud would look better if he did have the nose of one." She gives me an almost sly wink, and I can't help but let a gasp of a chuckle out.
"... I'm just so, goddamn tired, Sophia. I know Hugo needs me, and in a way, I need him. He keeps me going. But sometimes I hate him for it." I lower my gaze to the floor, utterly ashamed of what I've just uttered. So ungrateful. That particular voice sounds eerily like Mother, even if she'd never say those words. A long, embittered sigh reaches my ears, before I feel an arm crawl around my shoulder.
"Alright kid, here's what you're gonna do." And she leads me up the ramp to where the wheel is, before setting me and her down on a seat nearby it. "You're going to sleep." Even through the tiredness and pain richoceting through my muscles, I try to protest.
"But Hugo-"
"Is not here right now. I'm sure he knows to go up to the deck to find you. But it's okay to spend time apart, and frankly, you need it like I need a drink. I'll be here, so don't stress, unless you want to look as old as Arnaud there."
"But the wheel-"
"Again, will be just fine, we're going in the direction we need to. I was thinking of taking a break anyway, so don't you dare say you're inconveniencing me. Bloody well sleep before I knock you out, you brat." She says with a cocky smirk, and I roll my eyes as only a brat can, and lean my head against her shoulder. A yawn escapes me as I feel my eyes slowly fade.
"Sophia?"
"Yes kid?" A dry chuckle accompanies those words, and I let myself feel safe. Whole.
"... Thanks." I all but whisper that word as I fall completely asleep. Maybe she said something in return, maybe she just nodded, and watched the waves hit the hull. I don't know. But for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel like I wanted this sleep to be the last one I had. And the noises in my ears weren't the chittering of rats, but the rhythmic thump of water on wood.