Soul Searching

Adrift

Mary's mouth filled with sea water as she tried to scream for help. She instinctively reached her hands up towards the sky. They were small hands, a child's hands. Her skin was pale, nearly ghostly in the dim light of the water surrounding her. Long blonde hair floated past her face. Her gowns billowed around her, obscuring the path up and out. She was in a complete panic. Why was she in water? What happened? Who was she?

Her struggling slowed as the urge to breathe increased. She was going to die, drowning in the sea. She floated limply, sinking down and down. A necklace on a silver chain floated in front of her face. Her eyes barely saw it, being slitted to shield her from the sting of the salt water.

The necklace had a red blood crystal. She opened her eyes wider for a better look and understood instantly. She grasped it with her small hands and Isaac now understood. This girl had died in the sea. And now he might die in this vessel as well.

She summoned what little strength she had left and began swimming up. She kicked and kicked, feeling her legs cramp in the cold water. Her throat burned and begged for a breath. Seconds went by that felt like hours. She became desperate, flailing every part of her to move up, up, up.

The surface approached, but too slowly. Her vision began to blur and Isaac knew he was close to losing consciousness. Once that happened, she'd take a breath without being able to stop herself. And that could be the end of his journey.

She stopped kicking and just floated, ready to accept death. These were last terrifying seconds. He'd finally figure out what happened when he died in a vessel. He closed his eyes and thought of Helena in his last moments. He would always think of her.

She barely felt the sensation of strong hands grabbing her shoulders and lifting her up from under her armpits. She felt the water rush past her and had the sensation of moving up. She cracked an eye and saw a dark shape in the water with her. Someone was... saving her?

She breached the surface and coughed, water spraying up from her mouth and nose. She gasped and heaved, struggling to get a full breath. The person was now dragging her sideways, towards land? Or a boat? She couldn't see yet with her blurred vision.

It was also twilight, apparently. Which made things even more difficult to see. The shadowy figure hauled her to a lifeboat and she unceremoniously flopped into it. There was one other man on the boat, an oarsmen dressed in a loose white shirt and nondescript black trousers.

Her rescuer climbed aboard, panting for breath. He wore similar clothes and had long black hair that he had wrung out after boarding. It was now tied back with a strip of tan leather. He was lean and had long limbs. He had lots of cordy muscle, exactly what Isaac imagined a sailor would look like. He spread a wool blanket over her which helped stop her shivering, either from the cold or shock.

Mary lay on the floor of the boat for several minutes, feeling too weak to move. She controlled her breathing, inhaling deeply through her nose and out her mouth. Neither of the men checked on her, or asked her how she was doing. Breathing must have been good enough for them to see she was ok.

After she felt more coherent and in control, she sat up on her elbows, peering over the edge of the boat. Isaac looked at his new legs and torso, definitely a child. He had a left over intuition from the vessel that Mary was 10 when she'd died. He thought about how tragic this was and considered transferring right then, before he could cause anyone grief by presumably dropping dead later on after he no longer needed this body.

Mary watched the boat move towards the black shore, several yellow lights signaling them which direction to move. She turned behind them, back the direction they'd come from. A smoking shipwreck barely poked out of the water, silhouetted by the last moments of sunlight.

It was a large wooden sail ship. The type that could have made weeks or months-long voyages. Isaac couldn't tell if it had been leaving port or close to docking but it was a goddamn tragedy either way. There were 5 or 6 other rescue ships in the water with them, though only 2 had extra passengers.

She checked the amulet, which did absolutely nothing but a shine. Isaac thought of what someone, a child, would say in this situation. "My... parents? Did they survive?" Her voice was speaking English he realized with surprise. Wow, two in a row, he thought, marveling that both Devon and this girl had spoken English. This vessel however, had a proper English accent.

The man who had saved her from drowning did not look at her rightaway. His head was down, elbows resting on his knees in a squat on the wooden seat. As he looked up towards her he simply shook his head, no.

The man who was rowing stopped for a moment and leveled a pitying gaze at her saying in a cockney English accent, "Only a handful of survivors Miss. I... I don't think anyone has seen em."

She shook her head gravely in understanding and stared back at the shipwreck. Isaac ran through his options. He could stay here, search for a while and move on, or transfer now so nobody would have to deal with the delayed loss of this girl.

He decided to wait a bit longer - to see what information landfall brought. If there were siblings or other close family he'd transfer sooner than later. If the opposite was true, this would be a good vessel to spend some time in. Unfortunately a little orphan girl would blend in and not draw much attention as he searched.

He said a small prayer in his head, May this girl's soul and her family's be at peace, and looked towards the shore beckoning ahead.