Chapter Text
Sometimes I wonder. Did I always know how I’d end up? Have I always heard that call, was I always moved by that song, did I always crave for the sweet brush of the tides?
I remember I used to think the sea my home, but the land my grave. Always. I guess that started to change the day I met her.
“Fuck!”
I ran to the mast, boots slipping on the soaked wood of the deck.
“Captain, duck!”
I plunged on the ground before me, scrapping my knees, just in time to avoid a gigantic wave that crashed all over the ship. Hair all over my face, I rose, completely dishevelled.
“Martin, Seth, Louis, get the higher parts of the mast down! Roger, you and your brothers, bring some additional ropes! Anna, Graham, make sure all hatches are covered!”
I took a deep breathe in.
“Everyone else, grab something and try to pump that water out!”
I shook the hair off my face and put my tricorn back on, determined to escape that hell of a tempest.
I grabbed the wheel.
“At all costs, motherfucker. That ship’s not going down tonight.”
That was, actually, one of the longest nights of my life. And what followed wasn’t merrier.
I had finally managed to get my ship and my crew to safety, in calmer waters. Obviously, we had all crawled to our beds afterwards, literally dying for some sleep.
My wary bones had just started to feel like relaxing when Anna screamed right into my ear, or at least it sounded so.
Very, very pissed off, I emerged on the deck, rubbing my face. Only to find my men jumping over board, diving in the sea, one by one.
Panicked, I grabbed Seth’s arm just before he fell.
“Bloody hell, what is going on here?
- Don’t you hear it, Captain? The sea is calling.” He smiled, and right at that instant, I thought he looked like he had taken some of these exotic substances we heard about on the docks. “And we must answer.
- Sorry, wh- hey!”
I pulled on his arm to stop his movement. Unfortunately, he was fighting against my grip so virulently that I had to knock him out with a punch, not exactly sure what else to do. I looked up, my brain racing to find a solution to save my crew from drowning, even though I had no clue why they were struck by this madness all of a sudden.
“Anna, get a pair of oars and give them all a good hit on the skull before they die out of stupidity, will you?” I screamed across the ship.
I grabbed one myself and pushed three of my men back into the quarters below the deck.
“Stay here!”
I heard my demand being echoed by Anna to the other sane members on the deck, that were, weirdly, only girls.
I took a quick look on the people stacked up in the room at the bottom of the stairs. Disoriented, two dozens of pirates were looking at me expectantly. The three I had pushed back in were being taken care of by Roger’s twin brothers in a corner. Thinking fast, I called Jane and Lucy, grabbed them by the arms and locked the doors behind me, only to go back to the mess upstairs, and ignoring my crew’s questions.
“Anna??
-We’ve taken all of them out, Captain! But six of them had time to jump over board!”
I rolled my eyes, then my sleeves.
“Fuck me.”
I threw my hat and boots on the deck and cut the ropes of the lifeboat, bending over the bastitage.
Then, I jumped, just like six lunatics had done minutes ago.
I hit the water unpleasantly, diving already out of breath. The cold water slipped into each and every one of my clothes, and my whole body shook with a thrill. Trying to stay sharp, I emerged to the surface meters away from the lifeboat, which dropped on the right side, at least. Trying to spot my missing comrades, I began to swim away from the boat. Up there, Anna had grabbed a spotting scope and was yelling directions at me. Sweet girl.
Behind my back, I heard someone else fall into the water. I turned to exchange a look with Jane, who nodded at me and started swimming in the opposite direction.
Though, I thought, how come we were the only ones who hadn’t gone completely bonkers?
That’s when I began to hear the song.
Soft, persuasive, it felt like pearls rolling all over your skin, like fingers running through your hair and vanilla on your lips.
My ears ringing with the sound of that eerie voice, I finally understood.
A siren.
We had managed to bring back four of my men to the lifeboat when I finally caught a glimpse at her. Not a proper look, just a glimpse.
It was like walking into a room, and briefly, catching your reflection slipping on the window opposite you. You would take a step back, trying to get that floating image back, as if there was something special to it, but you couldn’t; you could never find that exact light, hitting that exact spot of the glass.
The second following my vision, I would have been incapable of describing her eyes, only thing that I saw. It was too short, too blurry. But, for the sake of the story, I’ll use my most recent memories to tell you, dear reader, how they were.
Imagine finding yourself in a wood. It’s dark, almost night; the sun has set, not long ago. You can still notice its last rays, tangled between the highest branches, hung to the softest leaves. You’re tired of walking, and you sit, weary, on a rotten log nearby, brushing off the oak acorns. As you take your head in your hands, you hear a familiar sound. With a look ahead, you can guess the shape of the tiniest stream. Having found back a strange spark, one that keeps you on the move, you follow the splashing of the water. As it gets louder, the stream gets wider, wider; and you reach a little pond, hidden by the vines and surrounded by rocks.
You’ll forgive me, reader. You must ask yourself: why the detour?
Well, we’ve arrived now. It’s coming. As the story goes on, you shall understand me; understand my fascination, and the number of words I’m able to put on it.
So: you stop, a shiver runs down your spine. A little wave ruffles the surface of the pond, carrying with her the very last spark of the day. It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s there, and you, of all people, caught it, in this greenish, blueish dough.
And it stirs up an emotion in you, hard to define. But you know it’s there, and you’ll never forget, not that you’d want to.
I did never forget.
But right then, as I said, I didn’t even have anything to remember.
Breathless, salt on my face (sea or tears, oh, how to know?), I emerged from the water, coughing my lungs out. I had just jumped back in, after dragging and hoisting the fourth unconscious body of a cherished comrade.
“ -ic! Victoria! Vic, can you hear me?”
I blinked, realising that a voice had been calling my name for a solid fifty seconds. I looked up, disoriented.
“Anna?” I croaked, but she probably didn’t hear me, given how far she was from me.
“Victoria, come back! I can’t see them anymore! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she was yelling, half crying.
This time, I felt the tears coming down my cheeks, and it felt so right, to pour such warm waterfall in this cold liquid immensity that took my men from me.
Sobbing, choking on the water in my lungs and in my eyes, I crawled back into the lifeboat and fell heavily on Seth. I helped Jane getting in as well, and laid her next to the survivors. Exhausted, she closed her eyes. I gave one last look over my shoulder to the still waters surrounding us, but there was nothing to spot anymore.
Bent over myself, I managed to grab the oars in a surreal effort. For the minutes that it took me torejoin the ship, I blacked-out. For all I know, the only thing keeping me from passing out in thatboat was the adrenaline, or the fear, or the despair, or perhaps all of the above, crushed together in some pitiful mess.
I only started to feel again when Anna wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, then another, and yet another one. Then, I became able to hear again, and I honestly wish it came later, because my heart shattered (but wasn’t it already broken?) to the sound of her voice.
“I’m so, so sorry… But, but (there, she cried out in pain) there was nothing more you could have done. They have (there, her already fragile voice trailed off) returned to the sea, as they ought to have.”
And she gave me one last, devastated look before going back to those I did save, bringing them on board.
Sweet, sweet child.
That’s when I began to think again. And it hit me like… like the sky fell on my chest. The worst part, was that I just accepted it. Why was it so easy to just, to just say that it had happened, and that there was nothing I could ever change anymore?
I got up miserably and stumbled to the bastitage. Away, far away, she was still singing.
Did it hurt? Not really. Did it make me feel better? Neither. Did it make me feel something? Most definitely.
I fell to my knees, and crossed my arms on the wooden barrier. Chin resting in the crook of my elbows, I closed my eyes and listened.
And for a second, it was enough, enough to forget the whole world. The whole world, and even my overwhelming pain.