Strange Shores

[Elle Joyner]

An RP by

@NRTupper and Elle Joyner
​

I've lived here my whole life. I know that isn't right. Me and three nursemaids, and no one else. My father tells me in letters he sends that I am kept here for my safety, for he is very wealthy and I am his only daughter, and I am grateful for his protection... But I am also quite lonely. Every day is much the same. I wake to the sound of the shore, the sea brushing foam against the sand, to the cry of gulls and the subtle whisper of the breeze through fronds of trees. I rise and my nurse Rebecca brings me breakfast on a tray before the lit fire, then Aria comes to see me dressed. In the afternoon, if the weather is fair I walk with Pisan along the tide line to collect shells and fragments of wood that had washed up. Then Pisan will leave me to sun on the rocks while she gathers sand crabs and shellfish for supper. We return just as the sun begins her journey south, touching the sky with golds and oranges, purples and pinks.


In the cottage, Rebecca prepared supper, and I sit with Aria by the fire. She is the youngest of the three, very pretty and fair, a wisp, short and thin, with light blonde hair and eyes the color of cornflowers. She's a mercurial girl, but sweet and kind, often given to bouts of gossip, which is met by frowns from the other two. They aren't permitted, I'm told, to tell stories of the Mainlands.


We eat, then I am bathed and dressed and put to bed and while I sleep I dream that I am a bird, or a fish... and there is unfathomable freedom. Sometimes I wake in the night and cry, and I don't always understand why, but when I speak of it to my darling nursemaids there are always looks of pity and sadness. But as light dawns through the window and morning begins anew, those looks are forgotten and routine begins again.


On the day when everything changed, I woke to the sound of rain, patterning against the rooftop of the cottage and to the sound of my nursemaids, whispering amongst themselves. Sleep unfurls and I open my eyes, but for a moment, only a moment, I lie there, still and I listen.


"Should we tell him? The master?"


"I don't see why. It's not like we found anything."


"But what if..."


"He'll want to come all this way, and if it's for nothing..."


"Shh! Listen... I think she's awake."


Sitting up, I stretch and I yawn, and I meet each of them with a smile. They needn't know I've heard them, and what I've heard I can make very sense of anyway. I learned long ago some things are better left unsaid and vexing a nursemaid can make for a very lonely afternoon.


"Was there a storm?" I ask. Rebecca makes a noise, like the squeal of an animal and Aria turns suddenly pale, and in the moment I am very aware that I've said something entirely wrong, trying to say nothing wrong at all.


Pisan scowls at the women, steps forward and holds her hands out, to help me down from the dais, "Just a small one, but it's still raining. Rebecca has made bread this morning, and if you'd like I can heat you up some tea. It's dreadful outside, sure to be misery, but nothing a bit of tea can't warm away."


"That would be lovely."


Turning to the others, Pisan nods and Rebecca and Aria scurry off, looking only too grateful for the opportunity to leave. My mind reflects on their conversation, but nothing beyond the prospect of my father visiting sheds any enlightenment on their uneasiness. I think to ask, but hold my tongue at the stony look that crosses Pisan's plump face. She is the eldest of the three, a remarkably wide woman, more broad than tall, with ruddy skin and watery blue eyes, a mess of dark grey hair clumped into a knot on the top of her head and impossibly large hands. She seems severe, but there is a maternal tenderness to her that makes her easily my favorite of the three.


After breakfast, the rain clears, but the cloud sodden sky promises more foul weather later. Pisan knows how I detest being cooped up in the cottage, so we take our walk anyway. Today, however, she insists that the sand is too damp and we travel the edge of trees instead, filling out baskets with fruit and nuts and herbs. We return early, and Rebecca makes quail. That night, the women retire early and I am left to soak in a tub of lavender and salt. And for a time, I sit... and I am content to continue pretending. But I cannot ignore it for long, the pressing thought that I am missing something.


Climbing from the water, I dry myself and slip into a nightgown of ivory linen and peering through the window I see the woman gathered in front of the root cellar, chatting wildly to each other. I know I ought not to, and my father's warnings ring in my mind, but I find myself slipping through the door, gliding like a wraith along the side of the house, and in the opposite direction of the cellar, down to the beach.


For a while, I just walk, unsure where I'm going or what my purpose is. I have never wandered off before, and I remember now why. At least with my nursemaids I have company, but here in the dark, with only the sounds of the water, washing across the shore and the pounding of my heart in my ears I am terribly alone. The air is cold, and I shiver, wrapping my arms tightly across my chest. I should turn back, but I don't. I know I should, but I can't... it's as if something is drawing me.


Then I see it. Through the darkness, at first it's only bits of black across the pale grey sand. I can hardly see what I'm looking at until I draw closer. And then I freeze. Father told me about them, once... a long time ago, but the words are clear as the day I read them. The Other Kind. They were dangerous, he'd said... vile and foul beasts, slayers of men, of women and children. Perverse and twisted and wicked creatures. But it doesn't look dangerous, the tall, bronzed thing that had washed up. Tattered-ragged and chained, it looks harmless...


Slowly, I step towards it.


"Don't... touch it!" I spin to see Pisan standing behind me, her hands on her hips, eyes wide and angry. Directly behind her, Rebecca and Aria look terrified, "Has it moved?"


"N...no." I say, but it comes out in a whisper, barely carrying across the wind. I turn back to look at it, frowning thoughtfully, "It's... it's one of them isn't it?"


"Yes." Pisan says, her lips curved downwards, "And we must get rid of it, before the Master finds out."


"Get rid of it?" I whip my head around, "But where will you..." Understand dawns, and I step back, "Oh! But you can't mean... You aren't going to..."


"We have to. Before it wakes."


"...No, Pi. Please. You... you can't." I can feel the tears stinging my eyes, feel them building, clinging to my lashes and I blink to clear my vision, sending a stream of them trailing along my cold skin, "Look at it! It... it doesn't look at all a danger."


"Of course not. Things that harm us don't always come in the form of Devil's, child. Now... back to the house with you."


Shaking my head, I step back again, planting my feet in the sand, “No. I won’t… I won’t let you.”


“...This is not a discussion I will have with you Alora. Back to the house!”


“No!” My voice rises, and I can see Aria flinch, and I know how I sound, but I can feel my rationality slipping. I have no conscious idea why I need to protect it, but I do. I must. I want to think that it’s just inherent goodness, that the murder of any creature would plague me so, but I know my reaction, at least in part is due in part to curiosity. I want to know what it is… to see it for myself.


The sky cracks apart with a violent, heliotrope fork of lightning, a growl of thunder, and the rain pours from the blackened heavens in rivers. Pisan mutters, turns to Aria and Rebecca, shaking her head, “Take it back to the cottage! Chain it up. No sense all of us dying out here for that miserable thing…”


I have a suspicion, as the three woman move forward to lift the creature that she isn’t referring to it, but I can’t be worried by her irritation. I’ve won, at least for now. But as I move to take hold of the thing’s foot, to help carry it, Pisan barks at me, “Do NOT touch it!”


There is such fury in her voice that I yank my hand away, as if struck, and as they cart the creature towards the cottage, I follow in wake.


Inside, the creature it chained to the post beside the fireplace. In the rich light of the flickering flames, I watch… Pisan stands beside it, narrowed eyes, hand gripping tightly around an iron poker.


“...You will not approach it. You will not go near it, do you understand me, Alora?” Pisan asks, and I nod, but I barely hear her. I know what my father has told me. I know that it is evil. Wicked. But it is also beautiful, and awestruck, I cannot tear my gaze away.

 

[NRTupper]

The ship gently rocks with each rolling wave. Chained to the rails, as I am, I can just glimpse the stern, where the pirate Captain has claimed my wheel. They slaughtered the rest of my crew, even as my men begged for mercy, some even volunteered to join the pirate crew - cowards, but instead of being human, these creatures tossed every last survivor over the side and now I alone survive.


How they knew me, I will never know. Perhaps one of my own gave me away, perhaps my face is so like my father's they needed no introduction. Either way, they let me live so they could barter with my father for my release.


I suppose I should be grateful, but the trouble is I know very well my father will refuse to give even a pittance for my release. Not because he wishes to see me dead, but because his wife would never allow him to waste money on his bastard son.


"Storm rolling in, Captain!" One of the crew shouts.


I crane my neck, trying to see, and far in the distance I glimpse the dark clouds which rush upon us. How did no one notice before? We should have adjusted our course long before to avoid it. Now there is no time.


As the waves increase in intensity the crew rushes around me, working in a frenzy to try and prepare the ship for what comes next. I call out to some, "Please! I can help!"


They ignore me, but I knew they would. The Pirate Captain, I know not his name, would never allow me to assist. I will remain here, helpless as I watch the storm toss the ship, helpless as these men struggle to control her.


My prediction is not wrong. The storm is upon us. The wind howls like a banshee, the waves wash over the side of the ship, soaking me through and through. Above the howling and the water the men shout but their words are lost to me. And then, I feel the ship tipping. We've hit a rogue wave, they haven't steered her well!


Up I go. I grab at the rails as I find myself momentarily dangling by the chain that binds me. The rail breaks, and I fall into the water.


It is instinct to struggle, to try and save my life, but I know I cannot.


I am about to die.


***


“Take it back to the cottage! Chain it up. No sense all of us dying out here for that miserable thing…”


What a strange dream I'm having. I am in a field, surrounded by white and yellow flowers. A girl is with me, young, maybe five summers? She looks remarkably like my littlest sister, but I know she can't be. Lessa does not allow me to go near her daughters. She says I am filth, and I would soil them. I never quite understood what she meant, I know she is attributing some evil to me but I cannot decide which evil it is.


Hands grab at my feet, at my arms. And there is a voice, a woman's voice. What is she saying? Why is she saying it?


The little girl at my side spins, her dress flaring out. She laughs, so full of joy.


“...You will not approach it. You will not go near it, do you understand me, Alora?”


There is warmth now, light... and I realize I am dreaming. There is pain too, in my lungs, in my wrists, in my chest. As the dream fades, I remember the water, the storm, the rail breaking and tumbling into the sea.


I am not dead. I should be dead. And I am not in water, somehow I am somewhere warm and there are women here.


I argue with my eyes, begging them to open. Instead they remain shut, stubborn, tired. I fight with them, groaning as the last of sleep is pushed away and they finally flutter open.


Oh.


I am dead.


There is an angel standing before me. A beautiful, wonderful angel.


How can this be? Shouldn't I be in hell? As a bastard child I was doomed before I was ever born to the burning pits. I know this, my father's wife told me time and again how evil I was. So how can I be here, in the presence of such a lovely creature?


Whatever wonderings I have, whatever questions I might ask are cut short as something hard hits the back of my head... and I am once again in the darkness.

 

[Elle Joyner]

"You didn't have to do that!" I shout, as Pisan sets the poker back into the rack and stands. The creature is unconscious again, and I can see the gash on it's forehead, a rivulet of blood curling like a tendril down it's cheek. For a moment, I could see the eyes, the fear, the confusion... and I know from watching Pisan hunt that animals often react adversely to this sort of captivity, but it seems so strangely... human. Yet I remember my father's letters, explaining the creatures, their ferocity, but also their craftiness. How they draw maidens to their doom with words and song, but to touch them, to allow yourself to be touched by them is flame and death. Yet Pisan and Aria and Rebecca carried the creature and they seem well enough... Pisan and Rebecca are older and while I'm not privy to the nature of their status, it would be safe to assume they are no maidens, but Aria... she is so young and would have had no opportunities to indulge the nature of lustful youth on our island.


The door opens behind me and I am drawn from my thoughts by the expression on Rebecca's pale face. She is easily the prettiest of the three women, delicate and soft, by with fiery red hair and large, bright green eyes - mossy and warm. Across her skin is a constellation of bronze freckles, which in the sun increase, exponentially. Her smile is tender and sweet, but rare... reserved, I think, for someone quite special to her. There is no smile now, but a face threadbare.


"Pisan..." She says, and her gaze flickers to me, warily, "We've found another."


My heart jumps at the thought, and Pisan stands, slowly, "Where?"


"Further down the beach. It's alive, but unconscious. I had to leave Aria..."


"You... what!?" Pisan's cheeks redden, and for a moment I feel terribly for Rebecca, but then I see the opportunity and her woes are forgotten.


"They're dangerous, Pi! If it wakes... Oh, poor Aria. You must go to her at once. Go!" I add, when she looked to me with suspicion in her gaze, "I will sit here on the bed and I swear not to move until you've returned. But oh, please hurry!"


Pisan mutters an oath, but nods, gesturing Rebecca out the cottage door, "Go, on with you. Take me to him... And you..." She adds, turning to me, a plump finger pointed like a blade, "If you move from that spot, it's the rod for you." Making a noise in her throat like a threatening animal, Pisan turns and storms out. I wait. I wait as long as I can stand to, and then I move, quickly. I find the rag by the bath and dip it into the water, which has gone cold, but it will have to do. Edging towards the creature, I hesitate, frown. If I'm wrong... But no, I can't be. Sitting down on the edge of the hearth, my heart pounding in my chest, I lean forward. Gently as I can, afraid to move closer, I press the cloth to the thing's forehead, to the gash, my breath held, hand trembling.

 

[NRTupper]

The pain pulls me out of the darkness yet again, and I don't want to wake. The silence of the dark has no pain, no discomfort, no fear. I rest for a time, listening, feeling, and realize someone presses against my forehead. Am I wounded? Are they tending a wound? I must be. But when I open my eyes I do not see a nursemaid, I see the angel.


Heaven should have no pain.


Nor should it have chains. I feel them on my wrists, even now, they tug at my bones, tear at my skin.


Not heaven.


"My lady," my voice comes out weak, hoarse, it doesn't sound like me but I know it must be because it says what I wish to say, "how did an angel come to be on earth? Have you lost your way?"


She is young, golden like the sun, soft, delicate features, more stunning in her beauty than any woman I have seen before. There is an innocence in her eyes, coupled with uncertainty and a dash of fear that tell me she does not know this world. Not my world. She is a child, but a child half way to being a woman with all the right curves in all the right places.


The men who captured me would destroy her, completely and totally.


Did they survive?


Are they near?


I try to move, but my limbs refuse to obey.


"You must... you must run. They will come... they will hurt you," I warn her because I must. Whatever happens to me matters little when a creature like this has come before me.

 

[Elle Joyner]

The creature wakes as the wetness runs along it's face and I am vexed by the absolute normalcy of it... of him. He appears as no monster ever has, and in his eyes is sincerity. Tricksters, Father calls them. Perverts of the mind, who twist words and hearts. I am afraid, of him, but also of my own actions. I have never lied, nor broken a promise to Pisan. To anyone, really. Yet for a stranger, for this demon I have done both, and I'm not even certain why.


He speaks, and the sound of his voice draws me back, my hand coming away, the rag falling between us with a soggy squelch, "Shh!" I hiss, and feel heat rise in my face at my foolishness, "You mustn't speak." My voice trembles, unbearably, swallowing, I steel myself, reach for the rag again, "I shan't be taken in by your... flattery, Creature. I know what manner of thing you are."


Shifting, my eyes averted, because I remember Father's warnings about their gaze as well, I reach, apprehensively to steady his arm and drag the cloth along the tender, swollen skin of his wrists. How long has he worn these chains? I want to ask, but I know I ought not to.


"...There is only one other." I find myself saying, flinching at my ignorance, "My nursemaids have gone to see it is restrained as well. Why have you come here? What are you after? Or is this what your kind does? I've been warned of you. What trickery have you planned?"

 

[NRTupper]

She shushes me, urging me to be silent, and yet she asks me questions? I know not if I should hold my tongue, or loose it. There is one other? And her nursemaids have gone to restrain it?


So I am not the only survivor, or the only tossed overboard. I wonder if the ship survived the storm? A part of me hopes it didn't. Either way it is lost to my father and while it won't be a tremendous blow, he will be vexed and perhaps blame me. I don't know why it bothers me to think of him being disappointed, I have always been a disappointment. From birth to now.


The pain is there, a constant throbbing, exacerbated by her gentle ministrations. I try not to show how her touch hurts, but I cannot stop the soft hiss that escapes me when her cloth hits a particularly raw piece of skin.


"No tricks. No tricks at all. I came her because the storm tossed me here but I am confused. Do you wish me to speak, or remain silent?"

 

[Elle Joyner]

"I..." Of course I've confused him. I've confused myself, so it only makes sense that he won't understand a word I'm saying. And why should I care that he does? He is all the things wrong with the world, he is a plague on mankind. It. Not he. Already, he's wormed his way into my head and given me cause to doubt my own father. How wicked and treacherous, "...You... you will stay silent." I decide, nodding diligently, "I will ask questions to which you can respond thusly."


A nod or the shake of the head surely can do me no harm. Except now there are no questions to ask. My mind runs blank, and frowning, I lower my hand, forgetting to not look at him. My eyes turn up and I see him, fully. He is so unlike anything I could have anticipated in my wildest dreams. His features are strong, and sullen, but handsome, his eyes the color of the sea after a storm.


Things that harm us don't always come in the form of Devil's


How did an angel come to be on earth?


"...You were chained, when we found you." I finally say, and I move the cloth to wipe the sand and grime from his face, "You must be the worst of your kind, if they thought it best to bind you."

 

[NRTupper]

She tells me to be silent, so I am. Her eyes lift and fix on me, for a long moment we study each other. I wonder what she sees? The ugly, grotesque bastard child? Or just a man. There are times I fear even strangers can see what an abomination I am, but I know it can't be. How can they know? From the outside I am just a man, like any other.


But the words she speaks next are not the sort that can be answered with a nod or a shake of the head, and though she has ordered me to be silent, I speak, because I must, "I am many things, but I am not worse than they. They bound me so they could take what was mine. They bound me because they hoped to sell me back to my father. I promise you, I am no threat, but they are and if you truly found another, you must stay well away."


How gentle her touch as she cleans my face, but her hands tremble and there is such wariness in her gaze. Am I truly such a sight to behold that she fears me? I can see why the chains would give her pause, but has she no experience with pirates at all?

 

[Elle Joyner]

I've done it again, I know, given him no choice but to speak. It isn't any spell he's trapped me under, however, but my own stupidity. But curiosity has enveloped me and I cannot escape from beneath the weight of it. The questions come of their own volition, and when I try to hold my tongue, I only feel the strain of more questions building. How strange that in all my father has taught me about The Other Kind, he never mentioned how very much like us they are. In every possible way, he seems... utterly human.


"...My father has taught me all there is to know of you. Of your kind. He has warned me of your tricks, of your cunning. How you use words to... to snare the mind, and you twist realities to..." The words escape me, for the first time in a long time. I have memorized them, but sitting here before him, I cannot remember, "You twist reality to... to captivate the heart. You are a scourge. Monsters that set fire to the earth, to watch it burn."


Looking away, I drop the cloth, rising to my full height, which suddenly does not feel very big at all, "...But he did not tell me how like us you appear. How is it you do this? How do you hide behind this mask?"

 

[NRTupper]

Her words make little sense. Who is 'you'? Me, or men in general? Or pirates? Does she think I'm a pirate? When she speaks of scourge and monsters setting fire to the earth I know that she does indeed mistake me for a pirate. Surely my clothes should have made it clear I am but a merchant, but perhaps she has never met a pirate and wouldn't know one from an ordinary man.


She rises above me, puffing up like a scared kitten, and her next questions are not ones that are easy to answer. How can I explain to her what I am when she is already so suspicious?


"I wear no mask. I am just a man," I answer finally, "just a man who is very grateful to be alive. I thank you for tending my wounds, lady."


It seems the only thing to say. I doubt I could convince her I am no pirate. Hopefully, with time, she will figure that out on her own.

 

[Elle Joyner]

I cannot understand. My whole life I have been reminded time and again, the danger of the The Other Kind. My father is adamant of the danger they possess. Yet when he speaks, his words feel honest, and there is no lie behind his eyes that I can see. My heart gives a thud as he thanks me, and I consider why exactly I did aid him. But I know the answer, already, and it frightens me. In my mind I know that I believe him, but believing him... means doubting my father.


"...I have seen men." I say, because I can think of no other way to convince him to expose his true nature. He does not need to know the only man I have ever encountered is my father, "You are too young." I say this matter of factly, because it is true. But in truth, if the only man I have encountered is my father, yet I know Aria and Rebecca and Pisan to all be different ages, it would reason to suggest men age likewise.


Sitting back down, I frown softly, pinching the bridge of my nose, "They will probably kill you." I finally add, looking over at him, sincerely, "I cannot stop them. It is their duty. My father had willed it, that your kind not be allowed sanctuary in our home. For this, I am sorry. It... it is not in me to end another's life, no matter how vile they may be."

 

[NRTupper]

I am too young? Does she believe men are born fully aged then? What lies has this girl been told? How innocent can she possibly be? Where are we? Surely not the mainland. No human could be this ... far removed if they were living on the mainland.


She sits, pinching at her nose, frowning as she does.


Her next words fill my chest with dread. Did I truly just survive a pirate attack, being tossed overboard in a storm just to be killed here, by whoever these people are? But perhaps death would be preferable to the half-life I have been living? If I die I will not be obliged to return to my father's home and to endure the abuse of his wife. I will be free, at least.


"If they do," I say softly, "do not blame yourself. And do not watch. There are some things that are not meant for creatures like you."

 

[Elle Joyner]

"I am just a girl." I say, because for some reason it feels wrong for him to think of me as any sort of angelic being. Not when he is to be killed because of me. "And there is no need for concern. I am not supposed to be speaking to you, at all. They will not let me see it."


Straightening, I look to him again. He is almost unbearably young, and I find myself wondering how it can be possible that he is evil at all, when he seems so thoughtful. Do men who desire the torment of others often presume innocence? Even in the face of certain death, "You claim you were captured... by men? And the other one... the one they've got to find. You claim he is... one of these men? They will kill him, also... but he may be able to tell us if you are being truthful..."


If he is speaking the truth, if he was captured and kept prisoner by these men, if he is indeed different from the creatures my father worries so vehemently over, then it is my solemn duty to see to it that he is kept from harm.


"But if you are lying. If you are indeed... one of them, you will be dealt with accordingly, and I will shed no tears for your fate." Shifting, I lower my gaze to his wrists, "...How long have they held you?" And I realize in asking it that way he'll know I've already decided I believe him, but strangely, this brings me great relief.

 

[NRTupper]

Just a girl? She is no mere girl. She is something other, something more. Of this I am certain. She looks at me with something akin to pity. She doesn't want to harm me, I know this as I look at her. "You claim you were captured... by men? And the other one... the one they've got to find. You claim he is... one of these men? They will kill him, also... but he may be able to tell us if you are being truthful..." She says.


I shake my head. What if he lies? He might lie... if he knows they intend to kill him, he would lie just to ensure they would kill me as well.


"Please... no..."


I will shed no tears for your fate. Such ruthless words but I don't believe them. She is too delicate, too soft for such words to be true.


How long have they held me?


"Days," I answer, "I... I am uncertain how many. At first I counted the rising of the sun, but it became difficult to do so near the end. They gave me only enough water to keep me alive, only enough food so I wouldn't die before they could earn their gold. But lady, if you ask him if he held me captive, do not let him know he is to die. If he believes he is to die, he will lie to you just to punish me as well. He might tell the truth if he believes there is a chance for him to live."

 

[Elle Joyner]

"Days..." The words escapes me in a whisper. How horrible it must have been, how frightening, "I am sorry. I had no idea that... that men could behave so cruelly."


I cannot fathom anything worse than the beasts my father has described to me, but these men that captured him, there can not be much goodness in them, either. Is it then, that there is just no goodness in the world at all, beyond my island? Could this be what my father has spared me from? Looking to the man, I shake my head, suddenly wearied by all that has happened.


"...I will ask my nurse, Pisan to see to it that the man is questioned... that he isn't made aware of your... of either of your fates. But I cannot promise that she will listen. She... she has been told many stories, herself." Of course, in order to tell Pisan any of this, I have to admit that I lied... that I broke my promise, and I know she will not spare me the rod for my disobedience. I cannot say that I don't deserve it.


"...She won't be happy with me. I promised I would not speak to you. But I could not help it. I... I am so curious, you see. I know so little... of anything."

 

[NRTupper]

I am not surprised at her admission, it was fairly obvious that she is innocent to the world. In a way I envy her that innocence. If only we could all be so ignorant of the evils that exist beyond these shores. In truth I have not lived much longer than she, I guess I am maybe three-four years her senior, but I can tell the life I have lived has been much different from the one she has lived.


"I suppose it will be a small consolation to know that he too will be put to death. I promise you, lady, he would not hesitate to harm you and everyone. He is what is called a pirate. They are hardly men. They spend their lives on the sea, pillaging and taking and destroying all in their path. I curse the day I spotted them on the horizon and did not immediately turn my ship the other way."


This is all my fault. It took me too long to recognize that the oncoming ship was sailed by pirates. These waters are normally occupied by merchants and the King's Men but pirates? Only the foulest, the bravest and the nastiest pirates dare to sail here. And of course it would be my luck to stumble upon the nastiest of them all.


My head hurts so. I close my eyes. I don't want to rest but it's so hard not to.


"At least... if I die... I die with your face in my eye. Perhaps you are not an angel, but you are close as I have ever been..."

 

[Elle Joyner]

"Pirates." I'm not familiar with the term, or the people... My father's focus has always been the monsters he called The Other Kind, and his desperate need to keep me from them. Really, these are all he has ever spoken of. It was my first nurse, Lydia who told me about men... and until now I had been so sure that there were no other creatures out there but those my father spoke of and the ones she informed me about. How much more is there for me to learn, I wonder? And why has my father never warned me of these Pirates?


"Death is never a consolation." I murmur quietly, because while I have never experienced it first hand, I have heard of it from my nursemaids, I have seen the pained looks on their faces when they speak of friends or loved ones that have perished, and I know that pain cannot escape me forever. I am told my father is older, ailing... and while I haven't seen him since I was a young girl, I am sure I can remember the grey in his hair, the weariness of his eyes, where they wrinkled at the corners. No one can live forever...


He continued, closing his eyes, words almost whispered that are so kind I cannot keep the smile from my lips, though I desire to. There is still a chance, given Pisan and the other's reactions to him that he is one of the beasts my father fears, and I mustn't allow myself to be drawn in by his flattering tongue.


"...Alora." I hear myself say and wonder how I can lose a war within my own head, so quickly, "...You may call me Alora."

 

[NRTupper]

I smile, tilting my head toward her and willing my eyes to open, though they fight and only open a small way, "Alora. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."


I wonder who else is here. I wonder where here is. If my ship survived, will they come here, searching for survivors? Searching for me once they realize I was lost during the storm? I shudder to think what could happen if they come here. Would they be so desperate? My father is a wealthy man but surely it would be so much trouble to capture the bastard son of a mere merchant. Aren't there other ways to earn money for these beasts of men?


The chains are still heavy on my wrists, and I wonder if I will feel freedom even once before these women take my life.


Even where we are, I can hear the distant roll of waves sloshing against beach. We are not far from the water. In truth I have never been much of a sailor, I much prefer the solid grip of dirt beneath my feet but circumstances led me to the sea and it is where I have been for over two years. And now, I will die because of it.


I am glad that she is the last human I will see. This is not just empty flattery. She is truly a lovely creature to behold and I am quite certain, even if I lived, I would never see another like her.


I want to ask her about her life, I want to know more about how she came to be in such a state of innocence... but it seems such pointless folly as we stand now.


My eyelids, heavy like lead, fall again. I feel my head dipping forward but can do nothing to stop it.


I rest... though not truly. The world blends, reality and dreams melding together in a confusing mingling of noise and smells.


I want to be awake when I die, but perhaps it's better to die like this... lost in a dream, unaware of my impending doom.

 

[Elle Joyner]

When he falls forward, for a moment, one horrible moment I'm afraid that he is gone. Having never experienced death, it's hard to imagine what it might look like, but I can see his chest rise and fall, I can see motion behind his eye and I breathe out in relief, my fear dissipating. Why should I care if he lives or dies? If he is indeed a creature of terror like my father described, he cannot be worth saving, and if he isn't, well... what does it matter to me? But it does. I cannot help it... I don't want him to die, not when he speaks with such kindness, and warmth.


Picking up the cloth again, I begin to clean the wounds I can see, to clean the dirt from his face. He is terribly handsome, disarmingly so, even asleep. Frowning softly, I brush the hair from his forehead, and I'm struck by how remarkably smooth and warm his skin is.


"Alora !" The cry comes from the door and jumping upright, I turn my eyes to see Pisan looking angrier than I have ever seen her. She steps inside, brushing sand from her hands, and I see her reach for the rod. I know what's coming. It's only happened once before, when I refused to listen about going too far into the water... I was young and impetuous and I'd wanted to test the limits. Now did not feel much different and I'm sure to Pisan didn't look much different.


"Pi..."


"Do you know what you've done, Alora?" She asks, and I can see, beyond the anger, fear in her eyes.


It's brief, and I do my best not to cry, not to scream... because I know that it hurts her more, but when she is done I can already feel the bruises forming where the skin welts. Lying on my chest on the bed, Aria places wet strips of cloth across the wounds and I flinch, tears bleeding into the mattress, but I don't speak. Pisan has gone to see to the other man, who they have chained down in the root cellar. She has a good heart, and I know it brings her no joy to have to kill either of them. She will draw it out, if she can.


"...You should've listened, Miss." Aria says, softly, "...They're dangerous, they are. His kind."


"...He isn't one of them, Aria. I know it... I talked to him. He... he's different."


"Of course he is, Miss. He's cast you. Can't trust anything they say. Anyhow. That ought to do it. Lay flat for a bit. I've got to go see if Pisan needs help with the other one. He's a piece of work, he is. Woke up after we chained him. Right evil... deep in his eyes." Shaking her head, Aria stands and I reach out to catch her hand.


"You have to ask him... about the ship... and the prison. Please, Aria. Just... just ask him if the boy is... is one of them?"


Making a face, she looks down at my hand, but after a moment, she nods, slowly, "Lie flat. Till they dry."


She moves for the door and I curl my head on my arms, letting the tears fall. It has to be enough, I hope... It has to work.

 

[NRTupper]

When I was a child, 5, maybe 6 summers old, my mother told me about my father. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to. He'd learned of my existence and was coming to take me away. She didn't want me to be frightened so she told me wonderful stories. She told me how he was a rich man who lived in a large mansion, how he had servants that did everything for him, how he had a wife and children who would play with me, how I would have a proper bed to sleep on and clothes that weren't falling to pieces.


She didn't tell me that I would be delegated to live in the tiniest room in the mansion, a room devoid of heat. That my bed would be a bed of straw, I would be one of the servants, or that his wife would hate me and his children spit on me every chance they got, or that I would never see her again.


I dream of her sometimes, my golden, beautiful mother. I wonder how she is. I tried to find her, almost as soon as father gave me a little bit of freedom, but by the time I could look for her, she was gone and no one knew where she had gone to.


Sometimes I fear father's wife had her killed, or sent far away so she could never tempt father again.


***


The world returns slowly. A murmur of sound somewhere in the distance that my brain registers as voices, the gentle caress of sunlight on my brow, the ache in my head and deep in my bones. I don't mind the ache, it tells me I am still alive.


I open my eyes slowly, hoping to see the angelic girl again.

 

[Elle Joyner]

For a little while, however brief and ultimately fruitless, I am able to rest, despite the pain in my back. When I wake, I see him, watching me from across the room. Slowly, opening my eyes fully, I tip my chin to rest it on my curled arms. The rags have dried, their soothing ointment seeped into the welts, but until Aria comes to remove them, I won't risk moving, upsetting the wounds.


"...They've brought him... the other one. They've chained him in the root cellar." I say it quietly enough, though I know I cannot really be overheard, but if Pisan comes back to see I've disobeyed again, I'm afraid she might hurt him, instead. My punishment was deserved, but as far as I can tell so far, his would not be, "They'll return, soon... when they've finished questioning him. And then it will be your turn."


Only I'm certain now, given Pi's reaction to my behavior that he will not have a fair shot at convincing them of his innocence. She is certain that he has enchanted me. Ironic that in trying to save him, I may have killed him all the same.


"...I could let you go." I find myself whispering, and I'm shocked by the words, but not because I regret them, "If you'll promise not to harm them, I could help you escape."

 

[NRTupper]

They'll return soon... So that's it? This is how I die? Somehow, through some divine twist, I escaped the pirates and now I will die at the hands of these people. These desperately sheltered people.


As I look at her, I note the strange stiffness of her posture, and the rags on her back. Is that blood? What have they done? And for what? because she spoke to me?


I'm starting to suspect the monsters aren't who this girl thinks.


"I would never harm them, or you," I say quickly when she offers to release me, "Never. All I want is to go home, that's all. But..." My eyes linger on the rags, "what will they do if you let me go? Will you be safe?"

 

[Elle Joyner]

I shift, best I can, slowly, until I'm upright and can face him, fully. Leaning my head against the post of my bed, I smile, stiffly, "I believe you. I probably shouldn't, but I do. Your eyes... are kind. I know what they tell me must be true, for they wouldn't lie to me all my life... but you cannot be one of the monsters my father speaks of in his letters."


I have to hope that it's true, for what I'm about to do... if I am wrong... could be the gravest mistake I've ever made. Cautiously, reaching behind me, I slip the strips of cloth from my back. Exposed to the air again, the welts sting, but with a flinch I push past the pain and slide down the dais, onto the floor, "I'll be safe..." I managed, smiling thinly, "They are no cruel. They only do my father's will... but they love me."


Sitting down on the hearth, I look up at him, study him for a moment. His eyes are so warm, soft. Hesitantly, I reach up... brush my fingertips along his wrist, to the metal band latched there, "...If I'm wrong... if you are one of them..."


Sighing, I pull the pin and watch as the shackle comes undone, then move to his other wrist to do the same, "...There, now. You're free."

 

[NRTupper]

I wonder who her father is. What man would so cripple his child in this way? Telling her of monsters, isolating her from the world? Why would a man do this? I don't think I could do such a thing if I had a child.


She flinches as she lets the rags fall from her back and I feel another surge of anger and concern for her. Why would they hurt her so?


She stared at me so intently, I can do nothing but stare back. I fear if I speak I might frighten her, or convince her to do the opposite of what I want.


It has been so long since my hands were free. The shackles release and for a time I just sit, my hands still against the chair arms.


"And where will I go? Is this an island?" I suspect it is, "Is there a ship? Is there some way I can leave?"

 

[Elle Joyner]

This much, I haven't thought, and I should have. I have never been allowed to explore the island on my own, and there is much that I have not seen of it, but I know there are no boats, not on the island, "They come once, ever three months... the ships. We aren't do for any deliveries for another month, yet. But if you could find somewhere to hide... I could bring you some supplies, if I can get away."


It isn't likely, though. If I release him, Pisan will know. She will, no doubt, lock me away... and then she will scour the island for him. If she finds him, she will kill him. She will, because I know that it's what is required of her. It was a bit frightening to think that Pisan, my dear, sweet nurse, could be capable of such an atrocity, but I also know the dangers my father has warned me of...


"I'm sorry." I say, quietly, "...I don't know what to do. I've... I've never imagined I'd be in such a predicament. I've been here my entire life, and I've never... we've never encountered one such as yourself. If they know I've released you, they'll come after you. And I'll never be allowed to leave my cottage. But... but if they thought you'd escaped..."