Title- Lost Souls
Author- Denise
Season- Pre Season One
Spoilers – Vague ones for Sally and Magnus and guesses about their past.
Content Level – Older Kids
Content Warning- Nothing really
Summary- Throughout the decades, two lost souls' paths cross.
Disclaimer: Sanctuary is owned by S3M and lots of folks that aren't me. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.
Lost Souls
By
Denise
Salianeaoulenia cradled the infant in her arms, her anger and disgust growing as she watched the dirt walkers upon the shore. Three of them stood over the infant's mother, examining her as if she had no worth or value; as if she was nothing more than an idle curiosity.
"What the hell is it?" a man asked, gesturing toward the massive bulk lying upon the rocks, the lake's small waves lapping over the part of her still lying in the dark water. The whole scene was illuminated by the light of a brilliant full moon. Salianeaoulenia knew how she came to be there. The creature had done it to herself, surrendering her own life to get her child to shallow water where he would be safe from the lake's natural predators.
That was what had drawn Salianeaoulenia to this large inland lake, the mother's desperation and fear as she fled the large carnivorous fish that called the lake home. Fish that were no threat to the mother – unless they attacked her in a pack – but fish that would easily overwhelm and murder the infant now held in Salianeaoulenia's arms.
It had happened before, which was the mother's greatest tragedy and horror. Centuries ago, she and her kind had sought refuge in this lake, seeking an isolated place to exist, away from the growing population of men. They had coexisted with the few dirt walkers that called the area home. Some were frightened of them and christened them 'Lake Demons', but they had other names as well, n'ha-a-itk, tatoskok or Ogopogo.
But she, and her kind, had not realized the lake's hidden danger. The massive native creatures the dirt walkers called sturgeons. The fish attacked their population, little by little, one by one, taking the weakest from among them. And the weakest were their children.
It had taken them generations to notice that they were fewer and fewer; that their numbers were dwindling and their future in danger. They tried to leave then, tried to make their way out to the sea, only to discover that they could not leave. That the river had changed so much that they could no longer navigate the channel. They were trapped. Trapped in a lake populated by creatures determined to defeat them in the battle for survival.
"It is a very large aquatic creature," the woman said, her voice carrying over the water.
"Possibly a plesiosaur."
"A what?"
"A plesiosaur," she said, getting up from where she had been kneeling down next to the mother. "As least that is the name some are giving to an ancient species of reptilian creatures."
"We need to get this thing out of the water and find some way to preserve it," the other man said, his loud voice booming across the water and disturbing the peacefulness of the lake. The infant cringed in Salianeaoulenia's arms and she comforted it, readying herself to vanish into the depths if her presence was discovered. "We have to get some photographs of this thing," he continued.
"That is the last thing you need, Governor," the woman protested.
"But, Helen—"
"No," she interrupted. "I recommend that you gather a crew, very small and comprised of people you trust implicitly. They should dismember this creature and take the body out to deep water and sink it to the bottom. The lake's natural predators should take care of the rest." She turned to look at the mayor. "And if anyone asks, it is merely a whale carcass, washed ashore and disposed of for hygienic and health reasons."
"Doctor Magnus, do you have any idea what we could do with this creature?" the first man asked. "The President will be here tomorrow. Can you imagine it? President Taft standing in front of this. My God. This will not only put Burlington on the map—"
"It will destroy your town," Helen interrupted. "People will flock here, yes. But they will come and they will search for more of these creatures and they will catch anything and everything they can. They will net more fish than anyone can eat. People will panic and declare this creature to be a man eater and your proud little town will descend into chaos."
She lectured him, her odd accent not diminishing the urgency in her voice. She moved towards him in such a way that he was forced to take a step back.
"Helen, are you sure?" the man she called Governor asked. "It would be a wonderful thing for the people of this town."
"Governor, I have seen it happen," she said. "Confirm to the world that this creature exists and it will be madness." She paused and looked at the creature, bending over to touch it. "Mystery is more powerful than certainty," she muttered.
"What are you talking about?" the mayor asked.
"Mystery, my dear mayor," she said, standing straight to face him. "As a good friend once told me, mystery and uncertainty are interesting, fascinating, in fact. This creature may have been the last of its kind. If people come to hunt it and find nothing, they will stop coming and your town will die. But the mystery, sir, will keep them coming. This creature has been a part of the local legends and stories for centuries, and it will continue to be so, only as long as it remains a mystery."
Salianeaoulenia, intrigued by the woman's words, lowered her barriers, allowing her mind to touch the woman's. She expected avarice and greed. Perhaps disgust or arrogance. Instead she felt deception. The woman was lying – and she hoped that the two men would not discover her subterfuge. Salianeaoulenia also felt regret from the woman, regret that she could not remove and safeguard the body herself. And fear, fear that the governor's men would betray him, and her, and reveal the secret.
"Perhaps we can assist you." Salianeaoulenia felt the presence of a fourth person and she pulled herself and the infant further behind the rock she peered around. Too many, too many dirt walkers.
Still connected to Helen, the woman's emotions calmed Salianeaoulenia. This new arrival was not unexpected. In fact, Salianeaoulenia sensed cooperation and conspiracy. "Chief Hiawatha," Helen acknowledged.
"Who are you?" the Governor asked.
"His people are performing the native dances," the mayor explained.
"Doctor Magnus, I heard of your plans to dispose of the creature. My people are willing to help," he said, ignoring the other two men.
"Why?" the governor asked.
"To you, she is nothing but a curiosity to be displayed, but to us she is a creature of the lake and a child of the earth. We respect her, as we respect all." He turned to Helen. "We shall dispose of the remains and by the time the sun rises, there shall be no sign that she was even here," he promised.
Salianeaoulenia sensed honesty from the man. Commitment but also fear. Fear that he and his people would fail and fear that the sun would rise upon the mother's remains and that her presence would be known to all.
"There, you see, problem solved," Helen declared, smiling at the Chief and then turning to the other two men. "Now, gentlemen, how about we take ourselves back to the party and leave the Chief to his work."
She grabbed the arms of the two men and led them away, the sense of bravado and forced confidence fading as the woman retreated.
The chief followed them, silently making his way to where his people were encamped. He would be true to his word, Salianeaoulenia knew. By the time the sun rose in the sky, the beach would show no signs of the night's events. The infant in her arms would be safe, from the humans at least.
She did not know what to do with the infant. She could not leave it here. There were no longer any adults living in the lake, and without the protection of an adult, the child was doomed.
Making her decision in an instant, Salianeaoulenia reached to the infant, calming it as she slipped into the water, her powerful tail making short work of the distance. She would take the child back to her own people. Throughout the centuries, the merfolk had never lived so closely to another, perhaps it was time now for that to change.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Helen stumbled onto the deck, pushing her way past the milling people. Her vision blurred slightly and she paused, grasping the bulkhead to steady herself. The gash on her head was still bleeding and she could feel her blood congealing into a cold drip in the wind.
She shivered, despite the heavy woolen coat that she'd tossed over her evening gown. The atmosphere had changed since she'd left the deck.
The band was still playing, its music ebbing and flowing around the crowds, but the atmosphere of tedious boredom and restrained urgency was gone. In its place was panic and anger, fear and desperation. The boat was doomed. Its fate spelled out in a growing list and silently evidenced by her own wet shoes. The water was creeping through the massive ship's corridors, eating it alive like a great, icy cancer.
Helen hurried her way down the deck, the rocking and empty divots urging her along. So many boats were gone. Had she really been below that long?
Her hand tightened around the locket in her grasp and she took a second to fasten it securely around her neck for safekeeping. At least the looter hadn't gotten it. Even though the world was changing drastically, greed was still universal. It was greed that had led the man to ransack her room, and greed that led him to assault her when she tried to stop him. And it was greed that would doom him to death and she sincerely wished that his ill gotten loot would sink his thieving hide to the ocean's bottom.
She just hoped that he had not doomed her as well.
The locket was the last piece of her mother that she had left and she'd be damned if she let it sink to the ocean's depths. And equally damned if she let some worthless thief take it from her.
Seeing no more boats on the port side, Helen turned, striding purposefully to the starboard. There had to be more boats, she thought, thinking of the over two thousand souls on the ship. There were hundreds still on board.
"Doctor Magnus?"
Recognizing the voice, she turned. "Captain Smith," she said, greeting the man she'd dined with just a few hours before.
"Why are you still here?" he asked. "You should have been on one of the first boats."
"I had to retrieve something," she said. "Surely it does not matter. The lifeboats—"
"Are gone," he interrupted.
"Gone? But there are so many people left. What about the other ships? I can see their lights. They must come and help us," she said, struggling to process his words. Gone? The lifeboats could not all be gone.
"We have been calling and signaling," he said. Both of them glanced up as a signal flare arched its way across the night sky, temporarily illuminating the deck of the Titanic. "None of them are answering save the Carpathia…and I fear she shall not arrive until long after we are gone," he said sadly.
Helen shook her head. "No. Captain—"
"I am sorry, Doctor. Truly, truly sorry." He nodded and turned, retreating back into the depths of his ship.
Frustrated, Helen spun on her heel and stormed down the deck. If the fool wanted to wait to die, he could. She had other plans.
Thirty minutes later, she stood upon the deck, her hands grasping the icy rail as acceptance warred with anger…and anger lost.
It was fine that she did not like her fate, but there was nothing she could do to avoid it.
The other ships were out there. Their flickering lights taunted her. And there were lifeboats out there too. Lifeboats that – if the rumors were true – were just partially full.
But they would not return. None dared to come near the doomed ship and her equally doomed passengers, no matter how loudly people screamed and begged.
They were as lepers, sequestered and abandoned. Left to die alone for fear that they would condemn others to their fate.
The ship lurched as the bow was pulled under water and the stern rose and she closed her eyes, struggling to hang on. Yes, she may accept her fate, but she was not going to eagerly seek it out. If Death wanted her, Death needed to come and get her.
Around her, people screamed and cried. They begged and prayed, cursed and shouted.
She let the panic wash over her and around her. She harbored what she was sure was a vain hope that their screams would carry over to the other ships.
Perhaps…perhaps this was not a bad thing, at least for her. She had already outlived most of her friends and maybe fate was striking back, punishing her for flouting it so.
But it was not fair that so many innocents had to perish as well.
She opened her eyes and looked down upon the dark water below. It rippled and lapped against the hull of the foundering ship. In one way, it looked ominous and cold. Hard and oh so very dark.
In another…well there certainly were worse ways to die, she thought pragmatically. She knew what hypothermia would do to the human body. In exacting anatomical detail. The water had to be near freezing. Which meant that she'd survive mere moments before succumbing. He body would eventually go numb and it would be a relatively painless way to die.
The unearthly screech of stressed metal giving way cut through the screams and terror and Helen felt herself lifted off the deck of the ship, her own inertia dooming her to plunge over the side and into the water.
Despite herself, she screamed. She hit the water hard, the shock of the impact almost as violent as the chill of the water. She gasped, choking harshly as sea water filled her lungs.
Her skirts tangled around her legs as her woolen coat, once so warm, became a trap, soaking up the water, its weight pulling her down. She struggled to unbutton it, but her fingers were already too numb to work properly.
She shivered violently as she struggled to stay afloat in the icy water. It soaked through her clothing and her skin began to burn, then go blissfully numb. Her flailing arms failed and the weight of her clothes pulled her under. She fought back to the surface, floundering wildly as it became harder and harder to keep her head above water.
Her shivering stopped as her limbs grew heavy. Without realizing it, she slipped beneath the surface, only her body's instinct to breathe driving her to claw her way back to air.
She broke the surface for just a few seconds before she sank again, for what she knew would be the last time. She surrendered to death, her acceptance still not allowing her to take that final, fatal, breath.
Almost as if it was a dream, she felt something bump into her. Before she could even summon the energy to be afraid, she was pushed to the surface. Her head broke and she breathed in, coughing up salty water.
A band tightened around her chest and she felt herself being pulled along. Dimly, she wondered who was her savior. No human could survive in this water, much less swim. But it didn't feel like an animal. There was nothing in these waters that would toy with her rather than eat her. And nothing with arms.
She tried to speak, but her cold addled brain couldn't seem to make her mouth work. Cold water washed by and she swore she occasionally felt something strike her skirt as she was pulled further and further away from the ship.
She surrendered to the ride, watching as the great ship's aft tilted up into the air until it bobbed like a giant top. Screams and cries wafted over the waves, punctuated by the horrific splashes as others suffered her fate. Even at this distance, she could hear the primordial groan as the Titanic died, losing its life to rock hard prehistoric snow.
The sounds faded as she was drawn further and further away until most of what she heard was simply the sound of her savior moving the two of them through the water.
Her eyes drifted closed and she felt her body start to shut down. Quiet blackness beckoned and she no longer felt cold or afraid. Suddenly, she felt the person pulling her stop. She was turned around and saw her savior's face for the first time. Moonlight illuminated a pale face framed by what she swore looked like seaweed. Dark eyes looked at her with an intensity that shook Helen to the core.
Knowledge.
Curiosity.
Wisdom.
Defiance.
Grace.
"Who are you?" Helen whispered.
The woman smiled slightly and turned, continuing to pull Helen through the water. After a couple of moments, they stopped and Helen felt something pushed beneath her arms.
She instinctively clung to the chunk of ice, using it as a life preserver. The woman smiled and pointed off to the right. "Wait," Helen said as the woman started to swim away. "Please, who are you?"
The woman hesitated, then reached out, cupping the side of Helen's head in her hand. Images assaulted Helen. A lifetime, a dozen human lifetimes washed over her and the barrage left her stunned.
In a flash, the woman was gone, only a noisy splash marking her presence.
Overwhelmed, Helen barely registered events as a lifeboat – drawn to her by the noise – pulled along side. Strong arms dragged her from the ocean's deadly and icy grip and swaddled her in life saving warmth.
SSSSSSSSSS
Helen put the car into park and got out, urgency clawing at her gut. Both a lot and a little had changed since she'd been here last. The lake was the same, of course, and part of the town was also the same, she even recognized some of the buildings.
They were, however, a far cry from the bunting enshrouded dwellings they had been in 1909. Just as she was different. Both were the same, yet also changed by time and experiences.
She walked towards the lake, almost as if she was drawn to the water's edge. The pre-dawn light gave the lake an ethereal glow that was only accentuated by a low fog hovering just atop the water.
It was quiet and the crunch of her boots warred with the rhythmic lapping of the waves.
When she got closer, a large bulky shape melted from the mist and she hurried forward, the shape tugging at her memory. Reaching the creature, she studied it, making note of large bite marks and injuries upon its flesh. She made her way to its head, a slack jaw and clouded eyes confirming its fate. "Significant predation," she muttered to herself. "Pre or postmortem, I can only guess."
Helen sighed as she knelt beside the plesiosaur. "I regret that I never meet your kind while you live," she said, dredging up memories of over ninety years before. She glanced around. "Although the lack of a presidential party and week long tercentennial celebration will make hiding your existence a bit less complicated."
She reached for her cell phone and punched in the number for the New York sanctuary. At least things would be easier this time, given that she had her own staff and crew to call upon rather than depending upon the kindness – and discretion – of locals. "I need a retrieval and disposal team on the Eastern shores of Lake Champlain," she said as soon as the phone was answered. "Contact our friends at the EPA and have them declare a quarantine. Hazardous cargo has fallen off a ship and washed ashore. That should allow you the time and privacy to remove the carcass."
She quickly informed her team of her location and snapped her phone shut, slipping it into her pocket. She looked out over the water, still feeling that something was wrong.
Something had drawn her here, compelling her to spend all night behind the wheel of a car and to this place, this exact place where she'd been almost a century before.
Some would call it a coincidence. Helen had lived too long to believe in coincidences.
"This can't be your death beach," she said, glancing back at the corpse. There were other species that created their own graveyards, the elephants being the most clichéd. But no abnormals that she was aware of. Of course, there were very few abnormals still in existence of sufficient number to make such a final - and noticeable - statement. She looked around. "Unless you are the last and the only one that could have died here in the past ninety years."
A flash of emotion washed over her and she stumbled, staggering with its intensity.
Pain.
Fear.
Terror.
Desperation.
She jogged over the rocky beach, not questioning as she let her instincts guide her. As she ran, the feelings got stronger and stronger until Helen almost felt she was feeling them herself. Urgency drove her on and she let her sixth sense override all her others as she made her way towards some bushes hanging over and into the water.
She both saw and sensed something in the same instant she heard a low moan and a splashing sound. A wave of pain washed over her and she instinctively reached down and grabbed a rock, lobbing it into the lake.
The water bubbled and roiled as three long shapes spun away from the shore and back into the deeper water. Helen splashed into the shallows and towards the figure in the water, heedless of the predatory fish just yards away. Somehow, she could feel the woman's pain and fear as she drew close. Recognizing the touch of a telepath, she tried to think reassuring thoughts as she pulled the injured woman from the water. She was so occupied cataloguing injuries that it took her a few seconds to realize that the 'human' she was pulling from the water possessed a long graceful tail instead of the expected legs.
"What happened?" she asked, reaching into her pocket for a kerchief to try and stem some of the blood. The mermaid had several injuries, what Helen could only describe as bite marks, all over her body. Many seemed superficial and Helen thought it was more the quantity of bites, not the severity, that so weakened the creature.
Streamlined white bodies shooting out of the depths.
Razorlike teeth, jaws agape as they rushed towards her.
Pain and confusion as they came at her from every direction.
"The sturgeons," Helen said, well aware of the lakes dominate predator. "They should not have attacked you…wait, you were trying to protect it, the plesiosaur. They were after it, not you."
Affirmation.
Grief stricken parents.
Fragile bodies torn asunder.
"That's why there are no more here. The sturgeon killed all the infants." She looked back towards where the corpse lay. "He was the last, wasn't he?"
Guiding the infant out of the lakes and into the seas.
Introducing him to a closed and xenophobic society.
Accepted but not welcomed amongst the other merfolk.
Loneliness leading to his return, his desire to rest amongst his own kind.
Her own isolation amongst her own kind, punished for bringing another into their midst.
Two friends – two outcasts – two lost souls, banding together.
Overcoming differences to become fast friends.
"Let me help you," Helen said. "I have friends, we can treat your injuries and then take you back to your own kind."
Rejection.
Banishment.
Helen felt a wave of pity that she ruthlessly clamped down, well aware that the mermaid could feel her emotions. She looked down at her patient, recognition banishing the last of the pity. "You. My god, it was you."
Icy water and a pale face.
A silent savior, betraying her people to save the life of another.
The mermaid's eyes closed in a mixture of shame and acknowledgement.
"Don't," Helen said, mimicking the mermaid's gesture of decades before as she laid her hand aside the woman's head. "You saved my life, let me save yours," she said. "I have a sanctuary, a place where you can stay as long as you wish to stay there. A place where you will not have to hide, or be hunted." The mermaid opened her eyes and looked at Helen. Helen opened her mind, trying to think of her experiences. "Friendship and safety is not only amongst your own kind. You saved my life, let me give you a home, for as long as you wish it."
The mermaid raised her hand and mimicked Helen's gesture and the two of them were linked, their minds and memories merging and melding.
The beauty of a coral reef.
Learning at her father's side.
Playing tag within the Sargasso Sea.
Sharing his joy of discovery.
Swimming amongst a pod of dolphins, racing to see who could swim the fastest.
The thrill of knowledge and comradeship.
The sunbeams, sparkling through the water, dancing upon the soft sand.
The rush of power and thrill of becoming 'more'.
Dirtwalkers, leaving the land and exploring the waters.
The thrill of a first kiss.
The intimacy of a mate.
The flicker of gas lights, sparkling off John's ring.
The joy of love, the agony of betrayal.
Grief and horror.
Death and deception.
Loneliness.
Solitude.
Outcast.
Banished.
Pain.
Death.
Survival.
Solidarity.
Curiosity.
Trust.
Sisterhood.
The mermaid's hand fell away and Helen sensed her weakness, caused by both her injuries and the sharing of memories. Helen felt one last emotion – acquiescence – and then the mermaid lapsed into unconsciousness.
A wave of protectiveness surged through her and Helen tightened her hold on the woman. "You're not alone anymore," she promised. "We're not alone anymore."
~Fin~