Sea of Dreams
The spray flies past her. She keeps walking, having left her boots up on the dune. The sand burns her feet as she makes her way into the surf, its stinging chill embracing her. The sun beats down from above, and she squints – too much time fighting the darkness, Caprice reflects. Now, it feels alien to again be in the light.
It isn't long before she's out of the surf and just lying on the beach, back on the sand, chest to the sky. She's a pirate, she reflects. Just because she likes sailing on water doesn't necessarily mean she likes being in it.
There are ships out on the water, to sail the sea of this realm, or even to sail into others. No sign of her own though, she thinks, as she squints through the sun's glare. It's in her own realm, waiting for her to return. If she ever does.
Not for the first time, Caprice wonders why she's here. Not on the beach, but in this entire realm. In the Trials of Strife. She's a pirate, she tells herself. She shouldn't give a damn about the Dharkwave Horde. If anything, she should welcome the chaos the looming conflict would bring. Good chaos brings good fortune for people like her, after all.
She sits up in the sand, her eyes reflecting the sparkle of the sea and the light of the sun above. It's like a siren song, she thinks, only the entire sea is the one calling her. She gets to her feet, enduring the sand's fire. She withstands the chill of the sea as she enters it. She stands there, watching a ship set sail. Hears the siren's song.
Caprice misses proper songs. Pirate songs. The type of songs that she and her crew would sing over rum, gold, and whatever grub they'd manage to procure along the way. Songs that she knows she'll never hear again. Not as long as the trials continue. Not while her companions are people who couldn't sing to save their lives, and have no interest in learning how to do so. She stands there, the surf running around her legs. The sun casts its light on the water. Water of another kind comes from her eyes, is added to the sea. The cold sea. The beckoning sea. She stifles a sob, yet the sea keeps singing. Screaming. Taunting.
Ah, screw it.
A sea that she jumps into.
It's not the ship. It's not home. But diving beneath the waves, it's the next best thing. The sea washes away her tears. Salt fills her throat, making singing a non-issue. And bursting back up to the surface, air filling her lungs, she laughs. She dives back into the surf. She laughs. She glances back at the beach.
And she curses.
Someone's stolen her boots.