“Storms don't come to teach us painful lessons, rather they were meant to wash us clean.”
Shannon L. Alder
The sea crashes against the craggy rocks at the base of the cliff. Looking down into the stormy waters, I find my center and let peace wash over me, the waves and sea calming slightly as I do. The corpses of my assailants lie behind me, eternally resting where they interrupted my nightly grounding with the ocean. I don’t know who they are or what they wanted, but the attacks have been coming more frequently. At first, I wondered how they found me, but now I’m suspicious magic is at work here. Who or what wants me, and why?
Why now?
I grab the bodies and toss them over the precipice, gifting them to the deep waters below, where they will be lost and forgotten forever. My home, the old castle, stands behind me, the gothic structure making me feel at ease. It was always my favourite era, even if I walked it alone, searching for something always out of reach.
The sea calls to me, telling me it can help, and it can. It’s where I feel the most comfortable, the most powerful, but I can often get lost in its waters, since time and space have no meaning. I did that for over five hundred years, and only came back and rejoined society two years ago.
Not like I feel I have truly joined it. I don’t understand this world anymore, and I am tired. Tired of being alone, tired of the never-ending years that stretch on before me.
Cities come and go, empires fall, and wars rage on. I walked past it all, wading through the carcasses littering the sea as it turned red with their hate and violence. I watched pirate ships and massive, impressive war vessels fade to nothing but transport and goods shipping. Explorers no longer exist. I loved them and helped them all, unless they were cruel.
I feel like I have seen everything this world has to offer.
Lightning crashes, and I blow out a breath, as always treading that line of my power, never wanting to completely unleash it. Sometimes it happens, and I regret it instantly, seeing my waves heading inland and killing and harming the humans.
A noise drifts to me on the waves and wind, and I perk up, searching the endless darkness stretching out before me. It is coming from there—is it a boat? A ship? Someone in need?
Unable to help myself, I dive into the water below and let it carry me into the ocean. I’m drawn to the sound, I have to know what it is. The sharks and fish swim closer, lured by my power, and I ignore them as I cut through the sea. The noise is growing louder now, and I realise what it is.
Singing.
Who is singing out here in the middle of the deep? Do they not fear the storm churning the water? They must feel it, the unnatural power around them, yet they sing louder…the harmony winding through my chest and reminding me of home, of camaraderie and family.
It tugs at me, pulls me closer, until I’m swimming hard to get to that person, until it’s my only thought. Nothing else matters but finding the source of that heartbreaking song.
When I break the surface of the water, the song louder and closer, I see it.
See her.
Mira
I see him for the first time on a stormy night, the waves crashing in a crescendo with the drumming of my heart. Lightning illuminates the almost midnight black water as the sky churns with a powerful storm. I’ve experienced my fair share, and I can tell this is something else, this power is…unnatural. It’s been occurring more regularly for the last couple of years, but I don’t know why. It interrupts my duty, that’s for sure, one I ache to escape from. But I never can.
I push those useless thoughts away. All they do is hurt me, and I refuse to sit around in a pity party. I will do as I’m told, complete my obligation, and one day, I’ll be free. I’ll walk the land again, see the world, and experience happiness, love, joy, and kindness. I will find myself, become who I should have been instead of this…this twisted, trapped toy.
I turn my head away, dragging my gaze from the man I saw dive into the water, and instead, I focus on the vessel, the ship. If I don’t bring one back tonight, I’ll be punished, and I can’t afford that. He needs them, the humans, and I give him what he needs.
It’s not massive, just a small fishing vessel with enough bad luck to be caught out here during the storm, but it’s enough for what I need. Sadness fills me, as does guilt, for the lives I will take. Their blood will stain my hands. I wish I didn’t have to. I used to fight it, used to rage against it, but that did nothing except get more innocents killed and me hurt. Now, I accept it.
However, one day, when I’m free…will I be able to live with the taint on my soul?
The simple answer is, I don’t know. Their screams, the fear in their eyes, and the utter hopelessness they all experience when they realise what’s about to happen, keeps me awake at night. I try to only take the bad people, but my choice is limited, and truly, how do you choose who deserves to die? Who’s bad and good? Is there not a grey line?
These thoughts keep me awake at night, but then the next day, I’m right back on this rock because I have no choice. Like them, I’m trapped, a prisoner to my destiny. One coated in death, blood, and my song.
Climbing higher onto the boulder, I let my melody flow from me, pouring my emotions and the pain in my heart into it. The boat turns towards me, and like always, I wish it didn’t. I wish they could resist, but they can’t.
It’s fate.
I see them, their yellow rain jackets doing little against the downpour as they zombie walk to the edge of the boat, trying to reach me. Their eyes are clouded, with waves crashing in their depths, as my song takes over their heart, mind, and body, until they are mine.
A splash sounds close, one that wasn’t made by the fish or predators lurking in the deep, I know those sounds. No, this was something else. My song cuts off, and I watch the sailors shake their heads before looking around in confusion as I glance to the left to see the man, the one from the cliff, there.
His dark brown hair, which is hard to see at night, is slicked back from his face and hanging in wet tendrils down his shoulders. His chest is bare, the waves bobbing him in their hold and showing me flashes of golden skin glimmering with water. He appears to be at home in the waves, like the gods of old I used to see as a child.
He floats there, watching me, his eyes as misty and dark as the turbulent sky, with flashes of lightning in those depths—is he the storm, or is the storm from him?
I can’t tell, but I want to know. I want to know everything about this man. An urge so profound pulls at me to move closer, to discover what else lurks in the deep waters that are him, but I can’t.
My duty pulls me one way, him the other.
He observes me, staring at me like I’m staring at him. Something arcs between us, an electricity like the lightning streaking across the sky. I struggle to breathe as that space inside me where my song, my power, resides sits up and takes notice, aching for this man, but I know better.
No man can help me, so I turn away.
He calls something out to me, but the wind swallows it. I begin singing, letting the notes pour from my mouth and wrap around the sailors once again. It’s more powerful than ever as I put on a show for him, though I don’t know why.
I cringe from knowing he’s watching and seeing me for exactly what I am—a killer.