[Memory] Water of life

[Velx]

Ash 45th, 4576

The storm had hit them particularly hard during the night. Along with the water came the creatures of the deep, many of them strangely humanoid in appearance. If there was truth to Teosborn worshiping what was under Courlan, it was becoming clearer that it did not seem to love them in turn. During the ruckus, they bore the storm. They fought the creatures. They won both times, but lost their focus in doing so.

As the helmsman fell, the time it took his replacement to get proper bearings had them abruptly anchored against a rock eager to break surface. The crew knew these waters well, but the conditions took their toll. Upon crashing, the ship took on water and unloaded some of the crew. Whoever fell down into the water never come out, but the crimson tint did tell volumes of their fates. Here and there screams could still be heard, short and cut apart by teeth and waves. Some drowned, some fared worse.

Frantically looking around, she would allow herself to echo. Using the sound of the waves crashing upon the rock that just killed them all, she’d multiply the frequency and spread it out like a net over the surrounding area.

Shapes in the water. Moving. Removing other, smaller shapes from the surface. As far as her echo could stretch, nothing but water and shapes removing shapes. She knew that blinking wasn’t a real option. Already somewhat spent from the fight and struggle to keep herself away from the liquid that wished her harm, she shied from the thought of readily jumping in its direction. It was true that two blinks could carry her further than an echo could, but who knew what waited there, an she was certain the third was out of her reach.

Her horror grew in the realization that she no longer heard screams or the jaws or the storm. On the horizon light was coming, and best she could do was pull herself further up the tilted craft. As light broke towards her location, the shades of dark started getting their colors back. Except for the water, it’s shade still unmistakably red, dissolving from crimson to a more pinkish sort.

“Help” the panic in her voice maximized into a roar, a lot of her ether poured towards intonation. As her mental distress grew, the power of her voice faded and she had to reinvest “Help”.

She didn’t want to die this day. Maybe leaving home had been a mistake all along? Maybe this was the same fate that befell her brother?

“Help” no power left to enforce, barely a whisper.

She sat and slowly sank.

[Andros]

Elena bolted out of bed when she heard it and Anthea began to wail in her bassinet. The sheep began to bleat loudly. Andros, sleeping like the dead after a hard day, gave a grunt and spread out onto Elena’s side of the bed, settling into the warm spot she’d left.

He only got a few more seconds to enjoy his rest. As Elena started to soothe the baby, her father Creon pounded on the door.

“Andros! Come! down to the beach. We have to help that woman.”

He sat up groggily, running his hands through his black hair in confusion.

“I don’t know how you missed it,” Elena chided as she rocked Anthea. “It was clear as day. Must be another shipwreck - you know where- and this time somebody’s got a little magic to call for help. Go save her. She sounded scared.”

There were an unusual number of shipwrecks on a rock just off the shore from Micronisi. Survivors - and there were typically few - speak of monsters pulling their comrades apart under the water. But no one from the island had seen them. In fact, the waters were almost always placid when islanders are on their boats. Old people said it’s because they lived in harmony with the creatures, but it was hard to take that seriously.

In any case, Andros listenes to his wife. He dressed quickly and ran down to the rescue boat, a dinghy with three pairs of oars and extra room to take on survivors.

He was on the back oars this time as the youngest man. Creon was holding the torch up front and two neighbors were at the other oars. Andros couldn’t see a thing, but Creon knew where he was going. The water ahead of them seemes to calm as they approach. Still, it was half an hour of hard rowing before Thanatos Rock loomed ahead of them and, sure enough the sinking prow of a ship beside it.

It was a strange rock. Narrow and tall, it jutted out of the ocean almost like the column on the front of a temple. It’s impossible to miss and yet mariners often did.

Creon called out once, twice, three times. No answer. Maybe she was dead. But as the men raised the oars and the dinghy glided closer to the wreck, they caught sight of what must be a person clinging to the exposed prow.

Andros stood up. He was a champion swimmer and this was his duty. He stripped off his shirt and handed it to the next oarsman, then dove in. As he swam towards the woman he could swear he saw something strange illuminated in the torchlight. Huge, odd-looking animals, swimming away from him towards the deep, hundreds of them.

But there was no time to investigate. There was a life to save.

[Velx]

Overwhelmed by pain and fear, she never heard the men calling her name. Their figures still warping around the front man’s light. All she saw were jaws and tentacles. These newcomers, while drier than the ones who came before only reminded her of the crew which was lost to the below. They were either souls of unrest or further apparitions to torment the already deluded mind. One of them leapt into the water and swam quickly in her direction. They were coming for her, she knew. Had she been a greater mage, she would have never been on this boat – but such was life, teeth and bad luck.

As the apparition swam toward her, she could notice the creatures retreating deeper beneath the waves. Whatever the newcomer was, he was worse than them, and they fled. This resonated uniquely with her, and she tried to put herself in a better vantage point. The fatigue and misalignment of the sinking vessel were catching up with her. Balance was difficult to find and each movement felt labored. She could perceive a bunch of detritus all over the crooked deck, and wondered if she had aim enough to use them defensively.

The ship was still clinging to the traitor rock and whatever sinking momentum it had, seemed to be dwindling. The same stone which almost killed them all was taking its sweet time with the vessel. Trying to buy herself time, she would snarl in a scratched-out voice. “Don’t come any closer!” throat sore from screaming and sea water.

[Andros]

Andros had a mental image of the woman who was calling to him. She was a small, helpless human in need of a big strong man to rescue her. Not just any woman, but one with a nice tan, long hair, a seductively torn dress, and, if he were being honest, a body he could describe to his friends in the Upper Village as banging .

Sexist? Yes. Immature? Very much so. But Andros was a twenty year old shepherd living in an iron age village. He hadn’t yet been tempered by decades as a father to a brood of daughters and years as a responsible Village Headman. He hadn’t even discovered that his wife was smarter than him, though he had an inkling.

In any case, the last thing he expected to see was a strikingly blue creature taller than he was. Beautiful, still, even in the darkness, but not what he’d pictured. Andros met the occasional non-human in the army and a fair number on his one trip to Evrotai on the mainland. But never an Arnokai. Some people on the island wouldn’t like her. Creon has some choice words for nonhumans. At first he was so shocked that he stared openly. Even as an old man he would remember that instant of hesitation with shame.

But her shouting knocked the surprise right out of him. He had a job to do here. He hoisted himself out of the water onto the prow of the sinking ship and faced her, but didn’t approach. She sounded terrified, obviously deeply shaken by her experience.

“My lady,” he began. He didn’t know if the stranger was a noblewoman, a slave, or anyone in between, but he hoped that being overly polite would put her at ease. “My name is Andros. I live on island nearby. We heard your cry for help. There’s a rescue ship right over there - see the torch?” He pointed at the rescuers, who were trying to get the dinghy closer to the wreck without crashing into it.

“Can you swim? If you can follow me. If not, hang on to me and I’ll get you to safety.” The wreckage gave a shudder under his feet and shifted. “Come on, quick!” he urged.

[Velx]

The creature emerged from the water and she was relieved to see it be merely a young one. Even though she understood she was helpless at the moment, she feared men much less than the deep. His words made sense as the wreckage shook. They would need to abandon the safe place which had kept her uneaten thus far. She was not looking forward to the trip, but nodded at the man weakly. She could manage not drowning, she thought. Calling her technique swimming would’ve been overly generous.

The reflex of her nature brought her hand up towards her chest, and as she was about to proclaim her own name, the wreck shook yet again. One hand not being grip enough, she’d be knocked off the wood and into the liquid. Her flailing arms scraping across the side on the way down, it was in no way a graceful exit.

Water in her mouth as she was mid conversation. Water in her nose as she held her breath poorly. Water in her ears, displacing her sense of space with pressure. Water in her eyes, salt biting at the already poor visibility. Her movements weren’t organized, but between the light and the gravity, even teary eyes could recognize the surface. She would soon break it and find herself fully exposed. There were men around her, monsters beneath, and the last bastion of safety was disappearing into the waters. Even the waves didn’t seem to stick around, losing interest as the scene devolved.

A better or more experienced seafarer might’ve taken this moment to rest, their body lifted up by the sea, but she couldn’t. An intense feeling of being eaten by the water kept her arms and legs moving, she didn’t want to get pulled under like all those before her. No one came back. In her would-be swimming, she grabbed onto the side of their boat, grateful for a brief respite. Still too scared to move further than the edge, she would cling onto it and ponder on her luck.

[Andros]

The woman started to speak and then was suddenly in the water, flailing about in a helpless manner. She seemed panicked, but moved towards the boat. Not in a straight line, and not quickly, but she was swimming, in her way. Andros jumped in after her and stayed close, ready to reach out and grab her if she started to sink. He ought to have given her a hand, let her grip a floating beam and pulled her along. But he was, frankly, a little afraid to touch her. She seemed panicked and hostile, and she looked so strange.

Fortunately, others weren’t so reticent. Strong hands grabbed her arms and pulled her onto the little boat before they could notice her face. Andros climbed aboard himself. What followed was a moment of tension that felt like it took hours. Illuminated by the torchlight, the woman’s blue skin, her odd ears, and her tall stature - bigger than any man on the island - were clearly visible to the rescuers. They stared openly. Some had never left their island and had never met a non-human. Others, isolated and parochial as they were, bore deep suspicions about them. Andros was wary, yes, but he did not share the hostility of his neighbors.

Andros watched his father-in-law Creon open his mouth to speak, a look of disgust on his face. He was always properly deferential to the man who gave him his Elena, but he was not going to allow even Creon to say a word against the woman. A stranger had just escaped death and called for their help. It was their duty to aid her and to do it properly. She was a guest, and guests were sacred.

Showing a hint of the leadership that would get him elected Village Headman in the future, Andros spoke up firmly.

“Row us home, boys. I’m freezing my balls off and this poor woman must be cold and frightened out of her mind.” He looked at Lucas, a cousin who periodically mooched off of Andros’ side of the family and owed him a number of favors. “Cousin, give her your cloak. Let’s show some hospitality.”

He hesitated but complied, handing her a wool wrap made watertight with sheep’s fat. Smelly but quite warm. Then Creon finally got a word in edgewise as the boat started for home.

“Where will she stay? I don’t have the room. Maybe we can drop her in the Lower Village and let them host her. That way she doesn’t have to walk all the way uphill with us.”

It was a ludicrous excuse. Creon did have the room, and taking her to the Lower Village would mean a long diversion around to the other side of the island. Everyone knew it except the visitor.

“She’ll stay with me,” Andros said simply, closing the topic. To keep it closed, he turned and addressed the woman.

“Madam, are you alright?” he asked. “I don’t think I got your name. Who are you? And where were you headed?”

[Velx]

Water was left behind as foreign fingers wrapped around her limbs and pulled her upwards. The boats balance was disturbed enough by her encumbering a single side that it felt like she would simply drop over the edge and back down. The swaying of the vessel wasn’t affecting the men at all, she realized at the same time she realized she was counting them. It appeared that she was being rescued, the light of a human’s torch giving enough illumination for her to see simple folk in simple clothes. Whatever their lot in life, they seemed larger than the Basin in her mind’s eye. All of them were eyeing each other carefully, and no one made much of an effort to speak up, until the boat rocked yet again.

Andros came aboard. The quiet moment interrupted as they made way for yet another person to fit inside. They all seemed afraid of her, but the newest arrival seemed to be the only one speaking. Poor woman – was that what she was? Never in her life had anyone called her poor, it seemed inappropriate, but she had little acumen to weigh the argument. The cloak was offered and taken without any pomp. The smell of animal wrapped tightly around her, and it was easy to mistake it for smell of safety. As she filled the inside of the garment, she realized she was shivering. The jittery limbs and the chattering teeth went away as soon as the wind was no longer their neighbor.

The man had offered her shelter even when another was seemingly against it. She would remember this kindness. As they started treating her as a present individual rather than a subject of conversation, she did her best to participate in the words exchanged.

Her hand emerged from within the wrapping, repeating the same motion which landed her in the water in the first place “Velx” she pointed at herself as she used the other hand for purchase against the bottom of the boat. This mistake was fresh in her mind and wouldn’t soon be repeated. Even though she led with her name, as per their interrupted introduction, she realized there was more to say. “I was going to the mainland. There are people there I wish to meet” the answer never came when it came to her condition, but she considered it obvious. She hoped they would both live long enough for her to repay the debt she was incurring. Finding stability in the frequency of the row, she tried to mimic the rhythm by tapping her hand against her leg. It was a simple tune and she adapted easily, finding comfort in the repetition.

It seemed a long way back to the land on any side of them. The men around her seemed as worried about her as she was about the deep. This gave comfort. The scared were rarely scary themselves.

“Why did you help me?” was the only acid burning in her mind, and she needed it out. She wouldn’t have helped, not with the waves and the teeth. She would have watched them all submerge from a safe distance. The more she realized about herself, the more respect she had for the boat crew.

Her mind unburdened, she would return to her silence, as long as it took.

[Andros]

The storm ebbed as the little boat rowed for home. Facing backwards as they rowed, the men looked east and took in a fine view of the sunrise as they reached their little island. All were tired and hungry by the time they pulled the boat up onto the beach and tied it up.

The men walked off in all directions once they climbed out of the vessel. Some wanted to catch a little more sleep before it was time to start on the day’s chores. Others hoped for an early breakfast. All wanted to avoid the woman they had saved, so big and strange looking. On land it was instantly obvious that she was the tallest person on the island, not to mention the only non-human. Something about a tall woman traveling alone set uneasily with the patriarchal values of the villagers.


Andros was left alone with Velx. He was as uncomfortable as anybody else, but hospitality is sacred. To treat Velx as anything less than an honored guest would be a grave offense, and he had drawn the short straw. So he showed her towards the steep, rock-cut stairs that led from the beach to the village and started climbing.

“Come, this way to home. There’s some big-wig from Evrotai around doing a land survey and he’s heading back to the mainland tomorrow. You can catch a ride with him. He’s docked in Lower Village on the other side of the island.”

After the experience she had, he thought to reassure her. “You’ll be very safe. Ships from Teos never sink in our own waters.”

After climbing for about ten minutes, the two reached the top of the cliff and Upper Village came into sight. Andros’ family compound was right in town, consisting of several, small stone buildings surrounding a courtyard. In his own home, smoke was already curling out the chimney, which meant breakfast was on.

“Oh thank all the gods, there’s food. Come on up. We’ll find you a change of clothes and a place to rest, too. You must be exhausted.”