The Horizon

It was a full four hours before the small port of Havendale came into view, and for a moment Anastasia was worried that The Horizon would find no suitable docking spaces that didn’t carry the substantial risk of a rock scraping the underside. This, however, was not the case, as the kind villagers of Havendale had engineered a dock large enough for a small fleet, at the request of those who frequently stopped at the small port to stock up and rest.
“I told you I saw a siren.” Mage said smugly as he walked next to Anastasia once they were on land, boots crunching in the sand as they entered the village.
“And I’ve told you that I’d have no problem pushing you into the ocean.” Anastasia replied dryly, looking ahead with determination. Tonight, she realized, her crew was too shaken up to sleep on the ship, and so they would need to find a small inn, or a few families kind enough to put them up for the night. A few kinder pirates couldn’t be found on the high sea, mostly since Anastasia’s crew was composed of misfits and runaways, as well as a good deal of women who sought the same adventures their late husbands had often told them of on their brief stops at home. That’s not to say that Anastasia didn’t know how to be cut-throat and ruthless, but as for her crew, most of them would balk at the idea of harming anyone.

As night time was fully accomplished, with the moon high in the sky, Anastasia and her crew found themselves filling every room of a local inn, who hadn’t seen such numbers in years. For a moment, Anastasia was weary of their ability to provide, but her doubts were soon dismissed as she descended the stairs for a meal cooked by the owner, a kindly old woman with shaking hands and a twinkling smile.
“This looks…amazing…” She said with a tinge of awe, having not seen a properly home cooked meal in years. Her stomach rumbled, causing a faint tinge of pink to settle on her dark skin. “I apologize. It’s been a long while since anyone on this crew cooked up anything that even looked half as appealing as this.”
At that, a few women raised mild protest, each contending their meal was just as good, though all of them knew it was a lie. Mage smiled at the inn-keeper, whose name was Aldercy, a fitting name for one who commanded her household so efficiently, and asked, “May we begin eating? Or are there other guests?”
At this, Aldercy stopped, chewing on her wrinkled lip, white eyebrows knitting together delicately as she thought. “Well…my daughter, but she wouldn’t mind if you began without her.” Saying no more, she stood slowly and scuttled out of the room.
Silence fell like a blanket over the travelers, who thought the inn-keepers dismissal of her daughter seemed rather odd. However, the silence lasted only as long as Anastasia’s stomach would allow, as soon another loud rumble was heard, a blush signifying it to belong to Anastasia. None in the room were surprised or disgusted, having dealt with their captain’s hunger for years. It was common place among the inhabitants of The Horizon, who’d heard it told in whispers and gossip that their captain was not human. Few knew the truth behind the words they spoke, one of those few being Mage, who had joined Anastasia’s crew for possibly no reason other than to examine the captain. Anastasia had agreed to let him aboard, after all, she needed a Mage, and he was one. After a time, she had forgotten his name, calling him Mage when he was needed, and soon, that had become his title more than his own birth name. Even so, she never fully trusted him, never trusted anyone of magic, though she found him more tolerable than the other, less noble of his kind.
The rattling of a door interrupted the feast which was well under way, though few looked up to acknowledge the new comer, few cared. Anastasia couldn’t help but peek up for a moment, the bowl of soup clasped in her hands almost falling to the table below as she took in the sight of who she presumed was the inn-keepers daughter.
Clad in breeches the color of dirt, and a plain ivory shirt, she commanded attention not with her wardrobe or any of her possessions. No, the truly dazzling aspect of this woman was found in every facet of her body. Her hair that fell in unkempt, yet beautiful, waves around her shoulders was the oddest shade of turquoise, the color reminding Anastasia of nothing more than the wide open ocean, just as the woman’s glinting eyes evoked thoughts of treasure, gold. Petite beneath her clothes that seemed too large, it was obvious to anyone that this woman was a seductress, even as she tried to hide it. Every move she made was graceful and well executed, and never once did she falter. Perhaps her oddest attributes were her hands, which contained webbing between each and every slim finger, and her ears, which stood out as gills framing her face, which was slender and kind. It was clear as day that this woman was not of the earthly make, that she was spun of something more dangerous than weapons, and more amazing than the tossing waves from which she had surely come.
Giving Mage a sharp nudge in the ribs, Anastasia pointed as discreetly as she could to the woman, who had knelt at an open space to get food. All around the table, the crew began to notice the intrusion of the stranger, and everything fell silent.
Sensing eyes on her, the inn-keeper’s daughter looked up, slanted gold eyes scanning the faces around her, until settling on Anastasia’s. Then, she spoke. The men would swear up and down for as long as they heard that voice that it was of the same choir of angel’s they had heard earlier, though this time, the screeching effect was lost on the females. “I apologize if I am interrupting your meal, captain. I’ll just take my food and leave you and your crew, if that’s what you want.”
Lost in the golden shades of the woman’s eyes, it took Anastasia a moment longer than usual to realize that it was her the beauty was addressing. Blushing for the third time that night, Anastasia replied, “No! Not at all! My crew just has a bit of a starring problem, that’s all. They do it to any new comers, please, don’t feel offended at their lack of finesse. It’s not their fault they’re stupid.” Her last words were emphasized by a pointed glare, which slowly made its way around the table, letting each crew member know of her hatred of their gaping.
A soft laugh wafted into the air, as the woman raised a webbed hand to cover her mouth. “Alright then, I’ll stay. It gets a little stuffy having only Mom and Dad as my company. Oh! It seems I lack my own finesse! My name is Kriztauna. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain…?”
“Captain Anastasia, master of the finest ship on the seven seas.” Around her, Anastasia’s crew had mouthed the same words she had just said, having heard it a million times over.
Kriztauna nodded, turning her attention to Mage. “And what might I call you?” She asked, her eyes smiling with delight.
“Mage. Over my years with Anastasia, I’ve lost my identity. My name was replaced by a title, but I don’t much mind.” He smiled a goofy smile, and stuck out a large hand to shake. Kriztauna glanced momentarily at the outstretched hand before accepting the obvious invitation.
The first thing Mage noticed about her grip was that it was undeniably cold, and the next was its strength. He was indeed impressed.
So the night passed in much the same fashion, sharing stories for Kriztauna who listened with rapt fascination, interjecting often with stories of her own, as well as putting voice to her often quieted wishes to leave Havendale.
When the time finally came for the crew to retire to bed, Anastasia was left alone in the dinning room, a glass of ale held in her hand, as she stared blankly at the wall. So much had suddenly come to burden her mind that she felt sleep would again allude her as it so often did. The close call with the sirens, mixed with the appearance of Kriztauna who was a great piece of interest for the captain, kept her awake, screaming in her mind. Beneath it all, as always, Anastasia could hear the soft sounds of wind blowing across something more delicate than water, and far more comforting.
Sand, endless planes of sand.
And with the sounds of sand came sounds of pain and loss. The sounds of the massacre that had wiped out her clan, leaving her as a sole survivor, screaming insanity in her ear was sometimes the only thing she could be sure of in life. After the death of her family, she had been briefly confined as a brothel-maiden, until her wit and her stubborn refusal to heed to her orders had seen her thrown onto the streets.
Sighing, the captain rubbed her eyes, then downed the remainder of her ale, before returning her tired gaze to the wall. At times like these, she showed the true scars of her life, the pain she’d endured, the hatred she held for those who’d forced her into such a life, and the weakness that often took over and made functioning hard, if not impossible. But still she trudged forward, with the wind in her sails, guiding her towards the empire that had laid siege to her land. Revenge was hard wired into every move she made. Even though she knew there was a risk of death, even though she often lied to her crew about their missions, she believed that it was all worth it in the end.
So caught up in her thoughts, Anastasia failed to notice the door opening, or the sounds of footsteps drawing closer, until the owner of the foot-fall had come into her vision, effectively snapping her back from her memories.
“Kriztauna!” She gasped, putting one hand over her chest, were her heart was fluttering wildly, “You scared me, girl!”
“I’m sorry, Captain.” She whispered softly, “But, my mother wanted me to ask you if you’d have a word with her.” Kriztauna’s eyes fluttered downward, “she seems nervous about something…”
Nodding, Anastasia stood slowly, setting her glass on the table with all of the other dishes. “I can get Aida, the deck-hand, to come help…” she offered, gesturing at the stacks of plates.
“That won’t be necessary. This is my job.” Even as dense as she had the ability to be, Anastasia still caught the subtle hint of remorse in Kriztauna’s words. However, if Aldercy wished to speak with her, than she had no time to sit around and convince Kriztauna, who she had a feel was quite stubborn, to accept help.
“If you say so.” Was all Anastasia said before turning to leave. She found Aldercy on the porch of her home, watching the ocean with saddened eyes as she waited, presumably, for Anastasia. “You wanted to speak with me?” asked the captain, watching the old woman’s hands tense on the wooden railing of the porch. Obviously, Anastasia’s sudden approach had scared her, but she had not shown signs of it.
“Yes…it’s…it’s about Kriztauna.” The woman’s voice was quiet, mournful, as she watched the moonlight dance over the ocean that had given and taken in equal parts to her over the years. It had taken her first husband when she was but still a girl, then years later had washed a child onto the beach, answering her prayers in an odd way.
“What about her?” Anastasia pressed, realizing the woman was no longer focusing on the present.
“…You are not human, are you Captain Anastasia?” The old woman questioned.
“I don’t see how this is relevant, but no, I am far from human.” Anastasia answered.
“I figured as much. You don’t see women of your type around anymore without them having at least a hint of magical creature in them. And you, Captain, are by far the strongest example of Naga that I’ve seen in many a years.”
Not knowing whether to be offended or complimented, Anastasia allowed the old woman with sadness in her eyes to continue.
“Seeing you, and how well you seem to fit in among your crew, seeing how they trust you…It hurt my old heart more than anything has in years…In this village, Kriztauna is not accepted. The villagers all but ignore her unless she is needed, and then they only partially trust her. She says nothing of it, but I can tell that it’s killing her.” Aldercy bowed her head, causing her white hair to fall into her wrinkled face as a tear forced it’s way out of her eye, “And I…I can’t let her live like this anymore. She needs to be where she is accepted.”
Without a hint of hindrance or old age, Aldercy turned to Anastasia, straightening her stooped back to look the Naga captain in the eye. “Take Kriztauna with you, when you leave. I can give you food, and some money, all that I’ve saved for her, but please, don’t make me pay the price of watching my daughter, of blood or soul, suffer another day in this forsaken village. She’ll die here, and she’ll die soon. She needs that,” Her arm was flung towards the ocean, “She needs to be out on the water…and that’s something I can’t give her myself. Please…I know that we are as good as strangers, but I’d do anything to keep her safe…”
The tears pouring hotly down Aldercy’s face were enough to convince the Captain, but she still had her reservations.
“Kriztauna is a siren…we’ve got men aboard.”
Aldercy gave a contemptuous laugh, “Kriztauna knows no more how to seduce a man then you know how to sew a dress. Yes, she is a siren, but she was raised here, among humans. Don’t make her suffer for what she is.”
Regarding the woman with a serious expression, Anastasia mulled over the decision she had suddenly been asked to make. A smile cracked her face, as she asked, “Can she cook any where near as wonderfully as you?”
Laughing loudly, Aldercy covered her wrinkled face with her calloused, wrinkled hands, giving a short sob of relief, “Yes, my Kriztauna is an amazing cook…” Lowering her hands, she gave Anastasia a teary smile, “You won’t regret this.”
“I’m sure I won’t. Kriztauna seems like a nice girl, and if it helps to get her away from a town that hates her, then I’m only too glad to take her on.” The truth of the matter was that Anastasia was much kinder than her crew gave her credit for. Bending down slightly, she enveloped the old woman in a hug, whispering in her ear, “I’ll take care of Kriztauna. You can put your heart at rest. She is safe with me.”
A quiet rustle drew both women’s attention towards the doorway, where Kriztauna stood with trembling features as she fought back tears. “Mom…are you so eager to get rid of me?” She asked, hoarsely, tears welling up in her eyes.
“No! That’s not it at all, Kriztauna. You don’t belong with the humans anymore than I belong in the sea…don’t you get it? I have to do what’s best for you.” Aldercy said, her tone pleading her daughter to believe what she had said.
Kriztauna stood looking at her mother for a long while before pain, and understanding, washed over her features. She covered the distance between them in a few short strides, wrapping her arms around her adoptive mother, sobbing quietly against her shoulder. “I-I-I’m going to m-miss you…” She cried, shoulders shaking.
“Shh…I’ll see you again, child.” Aldercy whispered, trying her best to soothe the crying Kriztauna.
One look at Aldercy’s grim face revealed the lie. Aldercy knew that once she watched her daughter board The Horizon, her weary heart would be overcome with grief, and she would lose her will to live. She was too old for this world, and had lived a long life. She considered herself lucky to have a child such as Kriztauna, but now it was time to let her go. Anastasia understood the look on Aldercy’s face, and quietly excused herself.