Alone
The outcast collapsed atop of the longboat as exhaustion set in.
It wasn't same fatigue one would experience after overworking themselves for hours without end, resulting in sore muscles, and the desperate need for a nap. No, this weariness seemed to come from inside the flower, a lingering, unnatural presence that sapped her strength like a leech feasting on blood. Where did this come from?! Was it her heart again? She couldn't tell, not when she was ready to pass out at a moment's notice.
Flora grabbed at the boat railing with quaking arms, trying and failing to pick herself back up. Her vision was blurred and her mind was a black void, yet as much as she wanted to crumble into unconsciousness, her feelings nagged her to keep going, in case the Glory decided to give chase. How?!
The girl pushed herself up on a third try and managed to rest her head against one of the boat seats. Why was this happening? She could barely stay awake or lift herself up! Has this ever happened before? Flora dove through her memories, desperately fighting the blanketing darkness that invited her to a great, deep sleep to find the answer. It did happen before, on a night much like this. When she'd fled out to the open sea, leaving her home island and her grandfather behind…
It can't be…! The realization stilted her breath. She'd been spent, mentally and physically, from the horrors she witnessed and the losses she endured that night! She'd fainted not long after when she rowed out to safety, anyone would after such a devastating event!
Yet the more she thought it through, the more Flora discovered that this wasn't entirely true. The fatigue of the night did play a part, but beneath that layer, she had been drained much the same as she was now. She'd been too traumatized by what happened to notice it, but how? Why?
The longboat…It had been going at an unusually quick pace the same as tonight despite the weight it carried, as though it'd been caught in a strong current. But there were no currents then, nor any here…how is this possible?
She tried to push for more answers, tried to think more clearly in order to solve the riddle, but in the end she'd used up what little strength she had left.
The girl collapsed atop the boat once more, and the welcoming darkness consumed her…
By the time the teenager awakened from the trite world of unconsciousness, a patch of silver was brightening on the horizon. Dawn was on its way, and the stars above were beginning to fade as it drew closer.
Flora watched the sky with hazy eyes, listening to the sea as it lapped gently against the longboat, briefly forgetting where or who she was. Then, as her vision came into focus, it hit her. Oh no!
The girl sat up, limbs creaking, and stared out in shock as the events of last night sunk in. Milo Ambrose, first mate and former pirate, along with four other crew mates, had helped her escape and now…
Now, she was alone. For the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly alone.
Was she...?
Suddenly she was cold, her form shivering down to the bone as though she were coated in frost. Flora blew into her hands, and went to adjust her coat when she remembered she didn't have it anymore. If it was still aboard the Glory, then there hadn't been enough time for anyone to retrieve it. "D-damn it…"
Flora's teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around herself as she took in her surroundings. Seawater encircled her, with no ends in sight no matter where she looked. She was lost and adrift in the middle of the ocean. In any other circumstance, she would embrace this moment, but right now she only felt fear.
What now?! A weight plunged down her gullet and her breathing hastened. What should she do? She was lost in the middle of a blue desert where one wrong move could either send her drowning in the depths, or get her eaten by sharks! Or worse!
Where should she go?! Where can she go!?
"St-stand fast, sailor!" Flora ordered herself before the anxiety took over, "C-compose yourself and calm down! Steady on…!"
That's right, she was a sailor, she has been for a while! She knew the sea now; she should know better not to give in to despair! That's not what Milo would want for her right now, him or the others!
The girl inhaled and exhaled ragged breaths, carefully assuring herself as she did. When her throbbing heart eased and her limbs stopped shaking-which took far longer than she had hoped-she lifted her head and gazed back at the sea. Think! What should I do?
She was floating within uncharted waters somewhere in the Atlantic, far from any landmark she knew, but if she was smart and treaded these waters carefully, then she had a chance. Where should I go…?
Should she make a try for England? No, the Glory had already left it far behind, and she didn't want to take any chances in the heart of the British Empire. The New World then?
It was possible, she could start anew there without the burden of being a fugitive, but as Flora considered the prospect, Milo's words came back to her:
"The sea still called to me, however. I could never escape that song no matter how much I tried."
The song of the sea…Oh yes.
Flora took a deep breath, and cautiously dipped her hand into the cool waters, closing her eyes as the ocean's loving presence and calling whispered and coursed through her veins. No, she couldn't make a home for herself in the mainland, not without being a miserable wreck. She renounced a life on dry land a long time ago; the sea's rhythm had been a part of her for too long. If she severed that connection, then she would be tearing herself apart. That much of her nature was true at least.
"Yer' path is your own to take. The mainland may be yer' best option if you wish. You'll be safe there, but we cannot look after ye if ye do."
Flora jerked her hand out of the water and swiveled around. "Athair?"
There was no sign of her tentacle-faced mentor; the words had come from her mind. The teenager sagged with disappointment, and then scowled. When had he told her that? Who was this 'we' he mentioned? She couldn't remember…
Athair…Still, the thought of her eldritch teacher brought some comfort after what happened. In fact…
A memory of one of his teachings came back to her, and she found herself gazing back at the sky. Toward the stars that were slowing twinkling out of existence in the coming sunrise…
It was one of the few times where they did not practice swordplay, and instead focused on the ways of the mariner. That night, it had been celestial navigation, a skill she had yet to master. They sailed under an aether filled with stars and light that reflected off the tame waters like a mirror. It was like a painting come to life, a complete contrast to the cursed, barnacle-encrusted ship Athair inhabited.
"That there be Carina, the brightest star in the north some call it." The man had pointed out one of the many constellations in the dream world that night. "Not what we are looking for-ah…"
He took a long smoke from his pipe, and then expelled the fume from the siphon that served as his nose as he turned toward Flora. She'd been standing near the railing, lost gazing at the stars through her spyglass with a spare hand clutching a bundle of star and navigational charts. At the same time, she was positioned in a way that would allow her to draw out her pistol or training sword at a moment's notice, in case Athair decided a sudden attack was in order.
Amusement flickered across Athair's face. "Tell me lass, without lookin', where does truth north lie?"
Flora jumped out of her trance, Oh hell! She'd set the spyglass aside and scoured through the stars she learned from previous lessons, without relying on the charts as requested. "The Pole Star." She answered, proudly, "Above the Plough."
Athair looked pleased with her response. "East and west?"
Bollocks, she forgot! She'd taken a peek at the charts for the answer when she thought Athair wasn't looking, only to be met with a sharp "AHEM!" from her mentor. She had promptly hit her head against the railing in shame, afterward.
The girl chuckled at the memory. Navigation lessons reminded her too often of her old days at school, but they were one of the less-exhausting courses of Athair's teachings, and oddly the most relaxing. And now I can put those lessons to the test.
Flora exhaled once more and examined the remaining stars above her. She had to find the Plough constellation. From there she can locate the Pole Star, indicating true north, and after that-
There you are! The constellation she'd been looking for! Flora beamed at the small victory, and scrutinized the stars to the best of her ability. If true north lay overhead from this angle, then that would mean. I am headed east…
Her back turned warm. If she continued on this course, then she'll be heading for Europe, which is not what she wanted.
The teen went through all of her remaining options, and a pit of dread lumped in her gut when she found all paths leading to the Caribbean. Back home like she originally planned, Oh good Lord…
It was a long shot; the Glory was still a month away from dropping anchor when she was forced to abandon it. Could she last that long with little food and shelter? With what meager supplies she had? Do I have a choice…?
The more she thought, the more Flora realized that she didn't. And the longer she sat here contemplating, the more time she was wasting.
She doubted the Glory would give chase, they couldn't risk going after her with the damage the vessel had taken from the serpent's attack. Regardless, she didn't want to take any chances in case Wilbur was reckless-or stupid-enough to try.
Satisfied, but far from confident with her choice, Flora searched the world of the sky for the stars that would guide her south and then west. She found the guiding constellation for south, the Crux, but what had been the one for east and west again? The one she'd forgotten in Athair's lesson…?
Orion the Hunter, that's it! Flora bowed her head when she found the collection of stars, as though in respect for the great archer, and once her course was charted, she grabbed the longboat oars to begin her venture.
A thought kindled and she paused. Hold on…
The girl set one oar aside, and cautiously leaned close to the railing while clutching the other. Before she tried anything, she had to solve this riddle. She couldn't risk passing out every time she rowed the longboat!
Iron tightened in her chest, and she exhaled again in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. A part of her was afraid of finding the answer. After everything that's happened, the last thing she needed was another unnatural trait that drove another wedge between her and normal seafarers.
What is this? Yet in-spite of how she felt, there was no controlling her curiosity. Does it have to do with me, or is there something else at work here…? Flora narrowed her eyes, focusing. Without further ado, she dipped the oar back into the sea.
The ripples around the paddle began to swirl and contort clockwise, and within a matter of seconds a small current had formed beneath the oar.
Apprehension swelled and then burst within Flora like a black bubble. WHAT THE-?! She withdrew from the railing, chest heaving, and eyes widened to their full extent.
Did that happen just now?! Did she really just form a small current?!
The girl lay there, gasping from the shock of what she had done, before gaining the courage to dip the oar back in.
There it was, the makeshift current, and already a pint of weariness was forming within her as a result.
All of the words, all of the phrases and titles she'd been called over the years swept back over her.
Witch, demon, sea spirit, devil…!
The more titles she remembered, the more her insides twisted with horror. First her blood, then seawater healing instead of hurting, the serpent, and now this…Could it all be true then?
Was she not human?
NO! Do NOT think about this right now! We've wasted enough time!
Flora bristled and shoved these dire thoughts to the farthest depths of her mind. She grabbed hold of the oars, gripping them until her knuckles cracjed, and glared down at the sea once she was situated. Don't you dare..!
The currents did not come. Satisfied, the bewildered and terrified flower corrected her course, and began her long and arduous journey across the sea.
When the sun rose to its peak that morning, she took a break in order to eat. She couldn't remember the last time she ate, but the way her stomach growled and clawed until she bent over assured her that it had been quite some time.
Flora carefully set the oars aside, opened her small pack, and drew out its contents. She eyed the bread and the cheese, salivating, until reality hit her over the head. Hungry as she was, she couldn't afford to devour what she had in one go. She had to make it last, as Carter told her. It was the only way she was going to make it through the venture.
And so, loathe as she was to do it, Flora sliced a few tiny pieces from both rations with her knife, ate what should could, and took a quick gulp from her flask of water before packing it all up and continuing on her way.
Wind billowed fiercely when evening fell, but Flora chose not to concern herself over it. Instead she checked the darkening sky-thankful that is was still clear-to make sure her course was correct. When she found it was, she set the oars aside and curled up to try and sleep. There were no blankets or such to keep her warm, so she will have to make due with the one thing on her person that could provide any sort of comfort.
She stroked the surface of the locket with a small grin, her heart leaping with what was to come. It's been too long for this!
The girl opened the music box, and a swirling mix of tranquility and nostalgia flowed through her as the locket's melody sang into the night. Flora couldn't remember the last time she listened to her family's song, and she needed to hear it now more than ever.
Family…
The girl listened to the swelling sea around her, and took solace in her music box as she slowly drifted off to sleep. In the past, she swore she felt a presence that she believed to be her mother and father watching over her from wherever they were every time she listened to their sweet, heartbreaking melody. It was a childish notion, most would call it. A desperate fantasy in order to feel connected to her missing parents. Yet tonight, lingering in the place she loved most and so far from everything she once knew, that presence felt closer than ever…
The routine continued like this for the next two weeks. Flora would wake up, calculate her course-which grew more and more difficult due to cloud cover and the lack of a compass and map-nourish herself, and then continue rowing. Her gut roared like an angry beast in defiance of her fasting, and the clawing in her stomach grew worse every day as a result, but she ignored it. She had to ignore it, even if it took all of her strength and willpower.
As her body worked to keep moving and stay alive, her mind wandered elsewhere, lingering on her lessons or past events, and never on the future. It was the only way to stay occupied during these tedious days in the middle of nowhere, without losing her sanity.
She wondered now, what would have happened if the Barton settlement were never attacked? Where would she be if she continued honoring her grandfather's promise?
Her best guess? Grandfather Albert would either be lying in bed due to his sickness or he'd start preparing for retirement. Both perhaps...
He would start writing down and marking the papers ensuring that she would inherit the settlement upon his passing, while her diplomacy lessons would finally be drawing to an end. At the same time, she'd most likely be set to marry a wealthy lord or Navy officer so the colony remained financed.
It would've made grandpa happy, she thought, gloomily. Her future would have been secured, but at the cost of her own happiness…
When thoughts of her upbringing grew too depressing, she turned over to the crew of the Glory, specifically one Milo Ambrose.
The first mate! A pirate all along!
All her life she'd been taught that pirates were vicious scoundrels. Parasites that infested the Seven Seas, breaking the laws and bloodying their blades for treasure, but more often for the fun of it. There were a number of stories and articles detailing the adventures of some of these buccaneers, the codes they followed, and their desire for freedom. While these ventures made Flora's heart pump with excitement, the matter still stood. Pirates were dangerous, drunken creatures, and they all deserved to be hanged by the noose.
Yet despite of all the stories and proof that pirates were treacherous oath breakers, Milo had risked his life in order to save hers.
Is he alright? Flora asked herself when she remembered the former pirate's fate. Did he, Ackley, and the others survive the onslaught from the rest of the crew? Did they jump ship as well, or have they been imprisoned or killed for their actions? Would Milo's past life be discovered?
Did they know that by helping her escape, they may have inadvertently sent her to her death being in the middle of nowhere…?
When her questions were met with no answers, she'd regard the surrounding sea, sometimes with longing, and sometimes with contempt and wariness. It'd been kind to her so far, but how long will that last with the sea's unpredictable nature? What will happen if she came across a wayward vessel? There's been no signs of any thus far, and there was a good chance she might not encounter any at all, but there was no way to be sure.
On top of that: Where are all the fish?
To go from witnessing hundreds to none shook Flora to the core. She had hoped that a number of them would breach from the sea and aid her in her dwindling food supply, but they never came.
The unsettling revelation made her think of the future, of what will happen if she did not reach the Caribbean in time. A terrible notion that she, once again, tried to push back into the depths of her mind and hide behind multiple, defensive layers as to not think about it.
When there were no fish to be found and Flora's sight and instincts assured her of nothing amiss, she would continue on her way through the vast emptiness, either singing songs or shanties, reciting old poems she barely remembered, or staring out at the world around her with a blank expression. A lonely nomad lost within an endless, uncaring blue world that easily could snatch her life away in a matter of seconds…
The surf rose up and down as it has for countless generations.
Up and down.
Down and up…
It was an unsteady rhythm that would have caused those cursed with seasickness to heave until their insides poured out, but Flora was no such individual, and she was thankful for it.
She carefully sliced another square from what was left of the bread loaf, and swore when the knife cut into one of her fingers regardless. Flora bared her teeth at the sharp, stinging pain, and examined the laceration. It wasn't too fatal, thank the gods, but it was deep enough to draw blood.
Her eyes squinched. Was it her, or was there more black than red flowing from the cut…?
Ice rimed through her sun burnt skin like cold serpents, and she swore multiple oaths as she tended to the injury as fast as possible. It can't be! She cursed, it can't be…!
Wind rippled by shortly after Flora denied herself, and the girl froze. She tilted her head when it came by again, and the color drained from her body.
The breeze was humid, and humidity usually meant rain or a storm.
If a storm came now, here in the middle of the ocean, then she would be done for.
Flora ate what she could and reared her head from port to starboard, keeping a weather eye on the sea and the sky for what was to come. Half of her was on high alert, ready for anything, but the other half was uncaring and tired, as she was beginning to take a toll from the fasting she placed upon herself…
A few hours later, the storm made itself known.
Ten leagues from the longboat, anvil shaped-clouds loomed higher and higher into darkening skies. Thunder rolled, lightning blazed, and the tides were rearing higher and higher like angry horses.
It was going to be very bad storm indeed, and the boat was headed straight into it.
Flora did everything she could to avoid a headlong collision with the gale, but it was as though the boat were drawn to it. As though seeking an end to the miserable existence it had endured for the past few weeks.
The winds began to hiss, and Flora lowered her head as unease constrained her like a tightening rope. There was no way she can survive the storm in this state. It would be better to toss everything aside and let the sea take her right now!
Give in to defeat.
And yet…
In-spite of her fatigue, in-spite of the certain demise rising ahead of her, an ember of defiance stirred within her. An ember kindled from the despair and anger that boiled her insides since the destruction of her home, and burned more fiercely like a bolt of lightning since the revelation aboard the Glory and the beginning of this wretched journey! The flame bloomed, and then seared like a raging fire through her body, scorching her exhaustion and fueling her defiance and will.
I...defy you...!
She had had enough, she was not giving up! If this storm was going to be her end, then she would defy it to her last breath! Give it all she had in a battle to be remembered and revered in songs and stories in the decades to come! And if she somehow survived, well good on her!
"You…shall not…have me!" The defiance scoured and bellowed like a monstrous wretch as Flora straightened out on trembling legs and roared into the storm. "DO YA HEAR ME?! I AM NOT YOURS TO CLAIM! NOT WITHOUT A FIGHT DO YA HEAR?!"
Her long, tangled hair buffeted against the wind as it sliced through her like a whip, as though the storm heeded her challenge and accepted it.
Did she fear death? The truth was: yes. She was terrified of dying before accomplishing all that she wanted to do, but in the face of impossible odds, Flora found that she welcomed death. She had nothing to lose after all!
I am no coward!
"COME ON THEN! DO YOUR WORST!" The flower howled and brayed like a mad woman as blue-white bolts struck through the clouds around her. "COME ON!"
The waves reared their shapeless heads, white foam sputtering like froth, and Flora bared her teeth and grasped the railings as the boat passed into the storm, waiting for the end.
It never came.
The surge of fury and fortitude dwindled, and Flora panted and went still when she found the storm wasn't taking her. In fact, to her dismay, the storm was dispersing as though it never were!
What the hell...?
The girl fell back onto the long boat, mouth agape and trembling as the seas calmed and a few rays of golden sunlight shined through the scattering clouds. Did that really happen? Did the storm just leave as soon as it arrived?! How? Wh-why…?
In the world above the clouds, a seagull called…
Another week passed. Though the storm had long dissipated, and though Flora declared that she would never give up even in the face of the grim reaper, a cold illness managed to find her. Whither the cause was her lack of protection against the sea and weather, or a growing result of her fasting, there was no way to tell. It was on the day this illness consumed her inside and out, five days after she'd run out of food and water, that Flora's will began to fade.
Bleak, transparent clouds obscured the sky, while a deep, sorrowful fog shrouded the surface of the sea. It appeared as though Flora were sailing through an empty grey realm, a realm devoid of emotion and hope.
The girl lay curled at the bottom of the longboat, a hollow shell of the ruthless, braying seafarer who stood before the gale. Mist expelled from her throat as she rasped and coughed. Her thin form trembled violently from the cold, her head burned with fever, and her throat and lips were dry despite the moisture of the day. She was so tired, weary, and hungry that she could barely move. Not even the melody of her locket provided the comfort she tried to deny, but so desperately wanted.
What had brought her to this? How long has it been since she set out on this fool's hope of a venture? Three weeks? Less? More? She couldn't remember. The only thing she knew for certain was that she was dying…
Some part of her blamed Milo for so rashly sending her out to sea, but the other part knew that she was to blame as well. She decided to take the long way, and without food, water, and no sign of land anywhere, that decision had killed her.
Ya can't give up! Her instincts continued to push her, even now at her wit's end. There must be a way!
She tried to get up, tried to tear away from the sickly cocoon that encased her to the longboat, but whatever energy there was to spare was gone. There is no way…The voice of her inner-self dimmed as the reality of her predicament sank in. Even if she prayed or begged the countless gods, nymphs, and deities of the sea for help, she doubted she would get an answer. The storm suddenly disappearing over a week prior had been enough.
Hunger crept and clawed through her intestines like a snarling predator, but the pain had numbed in the past few hours. Was it because she was ill or accepting this fate? That she would die out here? She was too tired to tell.
So, so tired…
Her eyesight blurred, and her eyelids fluttered as the blanketing darkness returned to take her, and for a brief moment she fought against it. Her slumber had been filled with nightmares since the venture began, some of Jolly Roger, and others she didn't understand but made her wake up screaming and clutching her chest in agony. There was also a frightening prospect that loomed closer and closer as the clock ticked by.
What if she didn't wake up the next time she closed her eyes?
The welcoming void began to consume her, and as her grey-blue eyes closed, Flora found that she did not care what became of her. It was too late to change anything.
The only thing that mattered right now, was that she was sorry. For her grandfather, for her lost family, for all those she had let down and was unable to avenge because of her foolishness…
Her only wish now, in her feverish state, was to see them. Her family, her parents, one glimpse of them would do.
Just so she could know, before the Flying Dutchman emerged to take her away…
Flora's eyes flicked open off and on as she drifted in the place between dreams and reality, so she couldn't tell if the red crab perched in front of her was real or not. "St-stephen…?"
The blue-eyed crab blinked and pinched its claws in greeting. Did it look a little larger than usual…?
"It's-it's been some time…" Wither this was a dream, a hallucination, or something else entirely, Flora couldn't tell. In that moment, she was only happy to see an old friend again. "P-permission to-?"
She hacked and coughed as though her throat were made of rust, unable to finish the sentence, but the crab appeared to understand what she wanted and blinked in agreement. Flora smiled, weakly, and held her friend close before her watery eyes shut once more.
For once the nightmares did not spring upon the flower once sleep found her. In fact, as she rested, she felt the vague yet comforting sensation of someone-or something-carefully lifting her up and carrying her away.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The heavy footsteps were all too familiar to Flora. "A-Athair…?"
There was no response. Instead the footsteps continued, and the sound of keys jangled before a door opened. In her blind stupor, Flora couldn't help but wonder. Athair's ship? The captain's cabin? Why wasn't she allowed to see it?
The footsteps continued for a little longer, and then Flora felt herself being placed on what felt like a mattress. A mattress that hadn't been used in ages going by the stench and feel of rotten sea life, but it was far better than the hard, rickety bottom of a longboat.
Athair-for it could only be him-made sure Flora was comfortable, and then placed something on top of her. A blanket? Athair's coat? She couldn't tell. It was covered in barnacles, and she could hear mussels clamping shut somewhere on it, but the pressure it brought was soothing and kept her warm and she was thankful for it. If she was to lose her life soon, then she was glad to have this last moment of comfort. She was glad to have Athair standing nearby, even if he didn't allow her to see the captain's cabin. "Th-thank you sir…"
The man watched with irritated yet concerned eyes as Flora fell into a sleep deeper than where dreams could follow, and then muttered ominously beneath his breath, "If ye' were not a part of me, dear Flora, you would not be here..."
In the waking world, a seagull perched on the longboat railing and scrutinized the sleeping teenager with blue-black eyes. The child had proven her will before the storm and throughout these long, torturous days at sea, but now her hours were numbered. In this state, she may have less than a day left, even with her father's help.
What was to be done then? Where in lies her fate?
The being behind the abyss-like eyes contemplated, in a way few mortals could understand. Before a decision could be made, however, the sea suddenly stirred.
The bird twisted its head around, watching curiously as the ocean rippled and gave way to a familiar red fin scaling around the boat like a gigantic, crimson sail.
If it could, the gull would have smiled.
Seems the flower of the sea will not be wilting soon after all…
The sun blazed like a fiery orange eye the following morning, bringing with it a warmth that marked the start of a new day. A new opportunity.
Flora blinked her eyes open, and raised her hand to shield her face from the sunlight. Immediately, she knew something was different. What the hell…?
The girl sat up in astonishment. Her limbs weren't shaking, her breathing no longer rasped, and she was able to maneuver like she used to. She wasn't ill anymore! What-in God's name-how?!
It came back to her. Athair's presence shortly after she resigned herself to starvation and sickness, providing her with comfort, and allowing her to rest in what she assumed to be the captain's cabin of his ship.
She swiveled out to sea, watching the waves glitter against the morning sun. "Did ya do this?!" she asked out loud. "If you are there, please tell me!"
The answer should have been obvious, but a sharp wind blew through Flora none-the-less, confirming what she suspected. Athair had revived her, for a reason she could not remember though it had come with a feeling of foreboding. A reminder that he still thrived on the belief that life was unfair…but none-the-less he had helped her, had given her the strength to keep going for just a little longer. It was not the strangest thing to have happened in the girl's life, and it certainly will not be the last.
The teenager gazed out over the ocean as though searching for another sign of her teacher's presence, searching for a way to thank him and maybe call out his hypocrisy, only to howl and bend over from the sharp, ripping pain coming from her gut.
Just a little longer…
Flora clutched her stomach until the clawing ache eased down, panting as it dawned on her that she wasn't safe from death's door yet. Athair may have healed her illness and given her strength, but he did not cure her hunger and thirst. She had to find a solution to this, and quick while she still had the time!
Flora peered into the surrounding waters, hoping against hope for a stray fish or shoal to swim by. If only she had a fishing rod like Ackley did, it would make matters so much easier!
So focused on catching a meal that may never come was the flower, that she didn't notice the sea rippling behind her, or the water splattering onto the boat, until it was drenching the top of her head.
Flora paused when she noticed her hair was soaking wet, and then jumped when she remembered it wasn't raining. "What the-?" She swiveled around and immediately went numb.
It was a sea serpent. The very same one Flora had saved weeks prior, going by the salmon-pink scar stretching between its neck and the rest of its body.
Flora's heart skipped multiple beats as she gawked, unsure whither to feel horrified or relieved by the great eel's appearance. What is it doing here?!
"Ahh…" She started, slowly, "H-hello."
The beast tilted its head at her, its bulbous eyes unblinking. Did it understand her then? "How did-" Flora swallowed, her throat dry, "Why are ya here...?"
The serpent straightened out and garbled as it opened its mouth. Flora leaned forward, curious, and then yelped as a great pile of fish suddenly poured out of the serpent's maw and landed right in front of her, nearly tilting the boat into the sea as it did.
Flora shrank away and gaped, caught off guard. What the devil-!? So appalled by the sight and odor was she, that she almost didn't notice the serpent grab one of the larger fish from the heap, and place it gently on her lap. The teenager halted in her distress, watching as the serpent nudged the fish forward like a mother dog or cat trying to feed its young.
Flora gazed blankly at the serpent, and then onto the scaly corpse on her lap, then back again. As she did, the dots connected, and slowly she understood. "It's for me...?"
The beast nudged the fish corpse again and stared. There was a gleam behind its kelp-green eyes, a gleam that, when Flora took a closer look, seemed to be giving her a message.
Repayment.
The teen frowned. Was that the right term?
Repayment. Repayment for what?
…for saving its life?
Flora's eyes widened, and then squinted back at the serpent itself. Now that she got a better look at it, the beast appeared much healthier and fatter than it had when it attacked the Glory. Its red skin glowed like bright rubies in the sunlight, and the green hue of its eyes was brighter and much less dull and bloodthirsty then they were during the attack. All because she had directed it away from the vessel, away from losing its life, and toward a place where it could find what it needed to survive.
Now it had come back to return the favor, when she herself was in danger of starvation.
A life for a life.
The girl peered down at the fish nestled on her lap. Saliva instantly drooled from the edges of her mouth, and her stomach gnawed in delight. At last! It seemed to proclaim at the sight of a hefty meal.
Flora licked her lips and drew out her knife. She should try to clean off the serpent slime and scales first the way she'd seen the Cook do aboard the Glory. Then she'd have to separate the flesh from the cartilage and bone, and then-
Sod it, she was hungry!
Instinct took over, and suddenly there were scales, scum, and bits of bone between her teeth as she tore into the corpse.
Raw fish did nothing good for humans unless served under certain conditions. Between the taste and after-effects, it was to be avoided at all costs. And yet to Flora's great surprise, she found the fresh kill was delicious! Was it because it'd been so long since she had a proper meal that she found the taste so delightful? She didn't care. All that mattered was that she had it!
She ripped out another chunk of flesh, and rejoice flowed over and through her as she crunched the light tissue to a pulp. When only the skeleton, head, and fins were left, Flora tossed the fish remains in the side of the boat and went to feed on another one. After a few more helpings, the teenager leaned against the longboat, stuffed and content. An obnoxious belch escaped from her mouth, and her cheeks burned until she laughed it off.
She was going to live! Gods above, she was going to live!
The serpent flicked its tail and bobbed its head, appearing pleased that it was able to help, and turned about to leave. Flora shot up when she noticed this, realizing that she didn't want the beast to go yet. "W-wait!"
At first it seemed like the great eel didn't hear her, and then it curved its head back around.
"Th-thank you, beastie…!" The heat of embarrassment rushed through her. What the hell was she doing? The beast may be intelligent, but it was still an animal. A simple thank you wasn't going to do.
Flora drew her attention to the fish heap. Generous as the offer was, there were simply too many corpses for the boat to handle, and already she could hear a few seagulls calling from above. This wasn't going to work.
The girl gazed over the pile, then selected a few of the larger specimens as the serpent had done, and threw them out toward the beast. Repayment!
The serpent stared, appearing confused. It swerved its head from left to right at the offering like a curious pup, then back at the one who saved its life. Then, without warning, it dove after the given fish and devoured them all in a few, gruesome bites. Flora bit back another laugh, amused despite the manner the serpent ate, and she and the beast held each other's gazes for a moment before it turned around and headed back to the open sea.
Somehow, Flora had a feeling she would see it again soon.
He. The sea serpent is male.
Flora furrowed her brows. When did she draw to that conclusion? There wasn't anything to indicate the beast's gender, how did she know it was male?
Wing beats suddenly sounded behind her, and a few beads of sweat fell from Flora's head as she whirled about. A number of gulls were landing all around the boat, and stepping ever so slightly closer to her new food supply.
BOLLOCKS!
All thoughts of the serpent were banished to the back of Flora's mind.
She had more pressing matters to deal with right now!
Here we are, the longest chapter I've written yet. Gah, I hate it when you lose motivation right when you're almost done with a chapter. Forgive me if this one has a lot of mistakes, or doesn't make a whole lot of sense because of it.
Did anyone really think the attack on the Glory was the last time we'd see the sea serpent? I warned everyone that things will get crazier and weirder as the story went on (and I'm not even close to finishing yet, we've still got a long way to go)! Also, Flora, you're going to regret eating all of that fish so quickly later. Why does raw fish taste so good to her? That's just the octopus in her, don't worry (haha...). Keep a list at the ready, readers, this is only a glimpse of the powers Flora inherited from her parents. As you've seen, though, they comes at a cost. We should see more as soon as Flora stops denying them, and the fact she's not fully human. Have patience.