“Shana,” Reina said, firm but not unkind. “This won’t always be this hard. I believe you have the strength in you to figure out the power that slumbers inside of you. Magic is, at its best and to the wisest of men, a complex and endless unknown.” She hummed. “Like the sea, in a way."
“Why are you here?” he asked, barely audible over the storm. His voice cracked, groaning like the ship, like the tension of speaking was just as much a burden as the rough, angry seas were on their small, hapless, wooden vessel.She dug her nails into palm and flexed her fingers. The weight of the question Cailean was unknowingly asking pushed against her shoulders, crushing her. She turned her head and spit out the blood onto the deck. It was washed instantly away by the rain. Maeve wiped her mouth and stared back at Cailean. “Why are you?”
The captain’s quarters were spacious and well-decorated. There were badges and medals dedicated to her father’s service in the Royal Navy and to his special accommodations as a pirate hunter, one of the few who were not blatantly mercenaries hired by the crown. There were bearings of his trophies in glass cases of varying sizes: a broken silver tooth; a medallion with the crest of an osprey; a dagger covered it rust that made it look blood-stained.The newest hung on a bull’s skull on the left wall: a bloodstone ring that dangled off a scarlet stained chain. The blood still looked fresh.
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