A Daughter's Love

Chapter Ten.

I decided to explore the ship that had supposedly belonged to my father before he moved to Vannes, eighteen years ago. Stepping out onto the deck, I raised my hand to shield my face from the blinding sunlight and squinted as I surveyed the deck “Hello, poppet!” a man greeted, dangling upside down from the mast with his face just inches away from mine, hands and legs wrapped in the roped that kept him in his dangling state. I took an instinctive step back and squared my stands, ready to defend myself but the man only grinned at me, revealing a set of rotten, yellow teeth “Ye must be the trollop’s daughter” he said, studying me like I was a piece of meat and he was the starving sailor who hadn’t had anything to eat in days. The word he used to describe my mother caused my spine to straighten and my mismatched eyes to narrow in on him “Excuse me?” I questioned as if daring him to repeat what he’d previously said, fist balling and ready to connect with the side of his face to knock out the few teeth he still had left. He swung back and forth and began laughing madly, eyes consumed by insanity as they bulged from their sockets “Yes ye be! Oh, yes ye be! Poppet of the sea! Poppet of the Captain! Yes, yes ye be!” he chanted then began scaling the roped again up to the crow’s nest where he crawled into it, his crazed laughter echoing out around me while I gazed up at him with an arched brow. There was a loud clutter on the deck and looking down, I found that the man from before whom the Captain had called ‘Snaggletooth’ had noticed me and in his haste to retreat, he knocked over a few heavy barrels. His bare chest was bandaged and a red stained had formed over where the fork had imbedded itself but other than that he seemed perfectly fine. Perhaps a little frightened but alive none the less “Still think I’m mad?” Neptune’s voice pierced the silence as he stepped out of the room that was located to my left, its glass double doors gaping wide open with books lining the bookshelves and a table positioned in the middle of it, decorated in candles and various maps that were most likely used for navigating the seas “I have my suspicions” I taunted, following Neptune’s gaze up to the crow’s nest were the man was now cursing at the sky, nearly falling over the edge of it a few times. He was filthy and smelt equally as bad, meaning that he hadn’t bathed in months “Malcolm was beaten by slavers after having discovered their trade” he felt the need to explain and I was grateful since I didn’t know anything about anyone on board that ship other than myself or the so called ‘god’ “The trauma to his head drove him mad” an image of the pirate’s hovering over me flickered in the back of my mind and I couldn’t help but start to panic, my heart racing, breathing growing uneven. Even I had my fears and because of what Bastian had forced me to endure five-years prior, the fear of being beaten and raped by multiple men was something that I would never completely escape “I wish to test the true extent of your abilities” Neptune stated out of the blue. An excitement coursed through me, replacing the fear and drawing my curious gaze to him. He still wore his black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows along with his shoes and trousers but his coat had been discarded. Would he challenge me? Would a god finally be worthy of fighting me? As if sensing my excitement, Neptune quickly spoke “I will not fight you, however-.” the adrenaline died in my veins and I sighed disappointingly. Whoever he could possibly choose to stand against me will only end up dying and I, as always, would stand victorious “I have a few opponents in mind who may prove challenging for you” a promise he couldn’t keep. Had he seen me fight before? Every time I would get excited because they seemed powerful, I would get too carried away and accidentally kill them. I crossed my arms over my chest when I realized that he’d most likely witnessed each of my battles for the past eight years since my parent’s murder due to his constant lurking in the shadows “Why not just fight me yourself?” I found myself wondering what else he had witnessed. Was he there the day I’d stolen those cookies from Rebecca’s bakery batch? Had he seen me kiss the stable boy behind the stables or pretend that I was the King’s knight who fought in the royal armada? Just how well did this man really know me? “Because, Malia, I know how badly you want to find the one who is ‘worthy’-.” his words confirmed my suspicions. He’d seen me kiss the stable boy. I groaned and placed my face in my hands when embarrassment washed over me, the same emotion that I had experienced the day before when having said those things to Ryker ‘For what it’s worth. I don’t hate you’ “And if I defeat you in battle then I don’t want to play into that holy image you’ve created in your mind of he who is ‘worthy” I muttered into my hand about how stupid it all sounded but how accurately he’d described it but the words came out muffled and he barely noticed them as he turned to glance up at the helm overhead where the Captain stood watching us “Mind if we borrow your deck for a bit?” Neptune questioned as I breathed in deep and lowered my hands away from my face to glance up at the man in the Captain’s hat. He had tight blond, curly hair that reached his shoulder and hazel brown eyes that matched his belt and boots. He wore a red coat that seemed stained darker red in some placed and appeared aged while the hat on the top of his head showed clear signs of almost half a century’s worth of wear. His chest was bare, skin tanned and chest tone from working on the sails and raising the heavy anchor “She stabbed a member of my crew” the Captain stated in a matter-of-fact tone which had Neptune turning his gaze onto me as if expecting me to clean up my mess. I shook my head and forced a brilliant smile on my lips, hands innocently clasped behind my back “I’m really sorry about that, mister” the sea god looked as though he wanted to smack himself in the face at the sight of my façade but it worked since the Captain pushed away from the railing of the helm and nodded his head “See to it that it doesn’t happen again” he warned Neptune, who clanked at the deck to make sure that all the members of the pirate’s crew were either out of range or below deck for their own safety “And Malia-.” I felt my body stiffen as I glanced back up at the Captain. He wasn’t menacing and reminded me more of a loving husband or father figure than he did of a fierce and dangerous pirate Captain “Call me Ben” with that he was gone, moving about on the helm where the ship’s wheel was located with the woman nearby. I dropped the act and let out a huffed breath to which Neptune narrowed his gaze in my direction “Why do you always do that, why do you prefer to pretend to be something you’re not?” he questioned, catching me off guard since no one had ever asked it of me apart from Ryker. I straightened my shoulders and raised my head as if expecting to take a blow from an opponent before I replied “Because I hate the person that I am” Neptune leaned back against the side of the stairs that went up to the helm and crossed his arms over his chest, nodding before he looked to the centre of the deck, changing the subject after sensing that the topic wasn’t really something I was comfortable with “Your first opponent” he introduced and turning, I was met with an impossible sight. A woman appeared out of thin air, her body clad in a flowy white gown that was soaked through with water, her blond hair damp and sticking to the sides of her head while her pale flesh was littered in coral and sea shells with her once blue eyes a pale, dead shade of the same colour, faded as if the life had been completely drained from her “She is what is known as a Rasulki-.” the way she appeared made my heart ache with a dread, a sadness so sickening that it made my stomach churn just from looking at her pitiful state “A Heart who had been murdered then tossed into the sea, unable to awaken so they take on the form of vengeful spirits who wonder through towns near rivers in search of murderers in order to drag their damned souls into the water” I wanted to protest, to say that I refused to fight her but the longer I stared at her, the more I could see her pain, her misery consuming her whole and I desired nothing more than to put an end to her suffering even if it meant taking her life. I nodded and studied my surroundings “There is no need for weapons-.” Neptune declared when he realized what I was doing. I was used to fighting with daggers or swords yet there I stood with nothing but my bare hands “Because you are the weapon” my thoughts took me back to the bathroom in the Captain’s quarters when my hands had grown claws, razor sharp claws that could sever tendons and cut through flesh like butter. Captain Ben and the woman loomed overhead on the helm, watching me, observing my every move or action. How would I manage to transform without unclasping the necklace? I couldn’t fight on land without it, I wouldn’t be able to breathe which meant that I would have a small window to defeat her in or else I would start to suffocate as soon as my gills would take form. I felt my fists balling at my sides, the frustration and uncertainty too overwhelming for me as the haunting sorrow of the woman stood across from me, swaying back and forth on her bare feet crept deeper into my chest like a serpent coiling around my heart “Heightened emotions are what trigger a semi-change” Neptune explained and I concentrated, gazing into the depths of her white, glazed eyes, able to see the images of her being strangled, a man whom she’d once loved knelt over her with drunken, angry eyes. They had a child together, a little girl who had stumbled upon the sight. She screamed and the father abandoned the lifeless mother to hunt down the girl. Blood dripped onto the neck when the claws dug into the flesh of my palms, extending until they struck bone and only then did I realize what had happened. My eyes were glowing, pupils slit with fangs extended and claws protruding. I gazed down at my open, bloody and wounded palm only to see it heal almost instantaneously, the pain hardly having time to register before the wound had disappeared. The sky began to darken, drawing my eyes upward and away from my palm to take in the greying world around me. Was this his doing? I glanced in Neptune’s direction but was drawn to the fight by a sickening, wail that emitted from the woman’s lips, her teeth rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth as her eyes stared up at the sky, the cries of agony enough to cause my gaze to tremble until I was forced to squeeze them shut. I heard the floorboard groan and opened my eyes just in time to dodge the woman as she lunged, clawed hand outstretched and aiming for my torso. My body twisted, managing to dodge then kicked off the stairs beside Neptune to fling myself onto the railing of the helm, perched with my hands in between my parted legs, examining the feral woman below. I felt a sting and looked toward my left arm only to find that she’d sliced the skin on my upper arm, causing it to seep blood. She wounded me and managed to land a decent blow. I raised my arm to examine the wound, feeling Ben’s eyes on my back as I did so “Assez proche” I muttered, the wound starting to rapidly close when my eyes found the ropes that hung from the mast some feet in front of where I was perched. A wide sickening smile spread its way across my lips, able to feel the humanity draining from my veins as I stood upright and glanced back over my shoulder at the pirate Captain. I leaped forward, propelling myself from the railing and grabbed onto the ropes, tangling them around my wrists and limbs before I let go and landed on the balls of my feet on the deck, facing my opponent. My feet were bare which was a good thing since my toe nails were also clawed and extended, able to be used as weapons as well. The woman advanced on me again but I stayed rooted I place, able to dodge her blow to my face by merely craning my neck to the side. The tip of her claws grazed my left cheek but I ignored it and quickly raised my left hand, imbedding it deep into her chest. She screamed and coughed blood which had adrenaline pumping faster throughout my body. I couldn’t help but laugh when I pulled my hand free of her ribs and lungs, splattering crimson across the floor only to reach up with my free hand, gripping the back of her neck to drive her face into the deck. More blood shot up, coating my face and clothes but I was unaffected by the metallic stench or the coppery taste when I knelt at her side, letting go of her to examine my handy work. She wasn’t moving, to my utter disappointment. Had I gone too far? Had I once again managed to kill the little mouse before I could thoroughly enjoy tormenting it? I sighed, the grin dropping from my lips to form a displeased frown when I stood and turned but my actions were halted when she suddenly lunged at me, hissing and screeching. On instinct, I moved to grip the wrist of the hand that was about to claw at my face and felt the bone give way beneath my iron hold. A loud crack sounded, like music to my ears followed by her wailing, her agony that vibrated through me with excitement and adventure. My left hand grabbed hold of the collar of her dress and harshly tugged her forward so that I could connect my forehead with her face. I then let go, watching as she tumbled backward onto the ground, eyes wide and razor teeth gapping toward the heavens. The little grey mouse was still alive. I moved to where she was, my right hand grabbing onto her throat, squeezing it as I began to drag her in the direction of the ship’s railing. She kicked and clawed, screeched and thrashed but it was all to no avail. The same sinister grin from before found my lips and with enough force to shatter a human being’s spine, I shoved her into the railing, holding her by her neck so that she half dangled from the edge of the ship while I leaned dangerously over her. I could see the fear in her eyes, the sae fear she had the night her husband had choked her to death but instead of feeling remorse or sadness like I had earlier, I felt exhilarated, as though that only added to my delight. I’d always been a monster but never had I looked upon someone’s pain and enjoyed it until that day, until I had awakened as a siren. My hand tightened around her throat, contracting more and more, my shoulders shaking as laughter of joy escaped my lips, a terrifying, disgusting sound to those around me yet the melody of my happiness was interrupted by her wind pipe being crushed and her neck snapping within my hold, blood gushing across my hand, seeping through my fingers before I completely let go. She tumbled toward the water below, finally put out of her everlasting misery then dissolved into thin air, a glowing violet orb all that remained as it disappeared into the depths of the water. My hand dropped to my side, dripping crimson as I stared down at the ocean’s surface ‘You’re a monster!’ the voice in the back of my head exclaimed ‘A disgrace to the Campbell name’ I flinched and hid my face behind a short dirty blond curtain of curls ‘Your father should be ashamed! You do not deserve to be called his daughter!’ my breathing came in pants, shallow breaths to try and calm my pulsating heart as my eyes continued to stare at the waters below, dark and swirling from the greying, stormy weather that fast approached over the ship. I wished that I could go back eight years, to a time before I was so angry and broken all the time. To a time when I would run on the beach with my father chasing after me, laughing and taunting him as I tried to escape only for him to hoist me over his shoulder and proudly declare that he had won. I missed him, I missed his firm but loving ways, his stories and grumpy days but just as equally I missed my mother, the warm smile she would always give, the way she would lie in bed with me on rainy nights when thunder would rumble so that I wouldn’t be scared. I missed her voice when she sang, her warm embrace “Malia!” Neptune’s voice drew me out of the dark depths of my mind and back to reality as abruptly as if I had been slapped clear across the face. I turned to face him when something caught my attention from out of the corner of my eyes. A small figure lunged at me and I managed to dodge just in time for the little girl to fly past, landing on the railing where she perched herself like a hissing, growling animal. I steadied my footing on the deck and felt my eyes widen at the familiarity in the girl’s features. She was the woman’s little girl who had been slaughtered by her father only to have her body dumped in the nearby river along with her mother’s. The girl was less sad and sorrowful but more feral and wild, her featured barely even human anymore. Her blond hair had grown almost white from years of stress and strain, her eyes were empty, void of life or emotion and her shoulders were hunched, bony and protruding past the fabrics of her blue dress that had been torn and was covered in grime from the river. I was going to have to kill her, to reunite her with her mother but something inside of me began to protest. Killing men was one thing, killing women was lowly of me but murdering a child? A little girl? That was beyond even my capabilities. I went to protest but the girl flung herself at me, clawed hands ready to tear into me but I ducked and watched as she flew overhead, landing on all fours with her rear higher than her head as she hissed and clawed at the deck. She wasn’t human, she wasn’t even an animal anymore since they felt emotions like love and excitement or joy, no this girl was just an empty shell, a vengeful spirit who had slaughtered murderous men only to drag their mangled bodies to the lakes and rivers. I stood upright and waited for her to lunge. When she did I stepped to the side, hand reaching to grip her hair, driving my knee into her face in the process. Her nose shattered and her head bounced back in time with my pull, forcing her onto the ground. Her chest rose and fell, a constant wheezing escaping her parted lips when I moved to stand over her, a foot on either side of her body. The siren in me enjoyed it, enjoyed watching the blood trickle from her nose to stain her long, needle-like fangs a dark yellow. The smell was so familiar, so normal to me that it almost reminded me of home. I bent down, able to see my own sickening smile in the girl’s glossy eyes when I wrapped both hands around her neck. The crew began to make their way onto the deck, watching in horror, terrified of the monster they could see but it wasn’t the girl they were staring at. It was me. The girl clawed at my hands and arms, slicing into my flesh and drawing blood that dripped down onto her, soaking her pale flesh and blue dress until everything, even my vision was stained red. She shrieked and wailed like a mourning ghost, kicking, thrashing, hissing in my face. Her blood too smeared my cheeks, forehead and lips before I felt the familiar snap and her eyes drained of what little life there had once been left in their depths. I backed away, arms falling limply to my sides, as her body dissolved and a glowing, violet orb floated up in front of my eyes, their glow fading, fangs retracting, claws shortening. I wondered what that orb was, hand raising to touch it when suddenly it disappeared into the deck by my feet, where most of the blood had been spilled. Red. Everything was red, my hair, face, arms, hands, clothing and legs. Even the ship was painted red. I hated myself for enjoying the killing as much as I had, for getting lost in the high of being in control of another being’s life but there was nothing that could ever compare to that feeling. Not kissing or dancing or laughing may manage to get me to those heights that I so longed for, that I so craved. I felt many sets of eyes on me as I swayed on my feet and turned to head below deck, closing the door to the bathroom so that I could slump over the sink, meeting my own reflection. My hand raised to cover one eye, body trembling with a need for bloodshed, a strong desire to kill “Vous n'êtes pas digne” I muttered the word ‘You are not worthy’, head shaking from side to side before I began laughing, hands raising to hover beside my head on either side as I gazed into the mirror. There was a crazed look in my eyes, a hunger that hadn’t ever been there before, matching the intensity of the drying blood that coated my raised hands and arms. That’s when the laughter began, rumbling up from my chest as I tangled my hands in my hair and gazed at the floorboards above. If they weren’t worthy, then who was? What did it mean for someone to be worthy of fighting me? Would they have to brutally injure me? Perhaps kill me? I froze, my laughter dying in the back of my throat at the harsh realization that no one and nothing could kill me since I healed almost instantly. Only old age could bring forth my death. Somehow that thought frightened me, a thought of me being forced to live on for many years, a monster, a broken, bruised, battered woman with no real purpose or understanding of who she truly is. My legs trembled then gave out beneath me, causing me to crumble to the floor of the bathroom, face buried in my hands. It hurt. Why did it always hurt so much just to live? The suffocating fog in my head was snuffed out by the image of a man with fiery red hair and brown eyes that held golden specks in their depths when the sun hit them just right “Ryker” the name escaped my lips in a whimpered plea when my back collided with the wall and there I sat, my hands covering my ears, eyes staring straight ahead, wide with fear and confusion. What was wrong with me?

It was the first time that I ever had to scrub the blood from my own skin and hands, the first time that I was forced to look at what I had done, that I ever felt remorse and regret. My victims hadn’t been just lowly pirates but instead they were an innocent mother and daughter who had suffered in life as they had in death. I’d never killed a woman or child before. As I washed myself, I could see their memories, their past, the torment of both of their deaths as a reminder of what I had done, always there, haunting me until the end of time “Neptune, a word if you will?” Ben’s voice questioned from somewhere above the bathroom, my ears sensitive enough after my awakening to have picked up on it as I dried my hair and body, stepping out into the Captain’s quarters, as naked as the day I was born. The woman from before stood near the dresser, holding an article of clothing in her webbed hands only to look up at me pity in her large, blue eyes “That girl can’t be Evangeline’s daughter-.” the Captain’s voice explained to Neptune who remained silent. I lowering my hand to my side, still gripping the towel as I listened in on their conversation, paying the woman no mind and not bothering to cover my nude form since it wasn’t something I was uncomfortable with “She should be kind, loving and gentle but Malia, she-.” my eyes moved to the floorboards overhead and the woman realized what I was doing, also able to hear the conversation her lover was having with the sea god “She can’t be her daughter, she’s frightening and dangerous” it stung but it was true, how could I possibly be related to Evangeline when she was so loving, so kind and caring, so understanding and willing to do anything for the ones that she loved? It didn’t make sense. The woman moved toward me, holding the piece of clothing that she’d been examining, out for me to take “Do not listen to Benjamin, you and Mary are more alike than you think-.” I took the shirt that she offered me and tugged it onto my body, tossing the towel onto the foot of the bed before I did so. The material was made of rough cotton and resembled the colour of newly blossoming poppies. The thought of flowers brought me back to mister Marseille’s shop where I worked in Vannes. The amount of money it must’ve cost to repair the damages I had caused were most likely exponential. I felt bad for the state he must have found his prized shop in but pushed the thought aside as I adjusted the shirt to fit more comfortably on my body type “Your mother rode on the back of a dragon without fear and just like her you are fearless-.” dragon? Did dragons really exist? What else could there be that I didn’t even know about? Was the woman who raised me really the woman everyone was telling me about? Who was Evangeline really? “She defeated the god of fire in combat. She walked on the edge of death and just like her, you are strong, you are a survivor-.” a god, she defeated a god. I watched as the woman made her way to the foot of the bed where I’d discarded the towel then began to neatly fold it, her back positioned toward me as she worked. The conversation between Neptune and Benjamin had died down in my ears, no longer a topic that peaked my interests “She was reckless, often leaping into action before taking the time to think things through-.” she explained, scooping the towel into her hands, turning so that she could return it to the bathroom, placing it on the chair beside the tub the exited, shutting the door behind her that I had carelessly left open “I believe that statement sounds somewhat familiar?” it did. I thought back to the many times I had managed to get myself into trouble because I acted rashly and without ever devising a plan of action. The memories took me back to a theft that took place a few years ago when a woman of nobility had passed through Vannes. I broke into the room she was staying in and nearly got myself caught by three of her guards. I managed to escape but without anything to show for my troubles, apart from my broken arm and bruised ribs. A sad smile touched my lips at the thought of my mother being just as reckless, the thought of us being similar to some extent “Your mother was a truthful woman, she would rather tell you the truth than allow for you to be comforted by pretty lies” yet she hid so much from me and my brother. I pushed the thought away when I realized that I had kept my own secrets from my brother, from Rebecca and Nolan which made me no different from her “And from what I saw when you were awakened, you are too” my eyes widened when I harshly turned to face her, meeting her serious, steady gaze, the words of protest dying in the back of my throat. I wasn’t truthful, I was anything but. I couldn’t even admit that I cared more about Ryker than I should have. The woman smiled and looked to the Persian carpet “You acknowledge that you are broken, that there is a part missing within yourself, a part that was torn away the day your father died, the part that you are so longingly searching for. You refer to this missing piece as the one who is ‘worthy’. You are truthful to yourself, yes, but you are still truthful” the nerves and muscles throughout my arms and legs tightened at how well she knew me, as if she had studied the book on my life. There was a part of me that believed she knew me better than I knew myself. My lips parted when the woman only continued to gaze downward, trapped in a time before that one, a time that took place long ago when she had known my mother “How do you know all of this?” I demanded, hands balling at my sides, both frustrated and annoyed with how accurate she was. Could she see into my soul with those aqua, pupil-less eyes of her? Could she read my mind? It was neither of those things “I am a nymph, because of this it is my duty to awaken Hearts, a process during which I glimpse into their past, able to see their life up until that point” I felt violated, like my private life had been pried into by not just Neptune but by this unknown, strange woman as well. She sensed my hostility, my uncertainty of her along with my being uncomfortable with regards the topic and moved past me in the direction of the door that headed above deck, stopping only to glance back at me from over her shoulder “My name is Samara but please, call me Blue as your mother once did” I nodded in agreement to her words then watched her go, my mind wondering to what would happen next, to how we would return to Vannes or how we would go about saving my mother and father. I was more than certain though that the path would be a long and challenging one filled with many secrets, otherworldly beings and unexpected bonds but I never stopped to think that perhaps even love lay on the path ahead of me.