Post by Katriel on Aug 23, 2023 13:37:34 GMT -5
Katriel was relaxing in her rooftop garden when a soft rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. She looked out over the stone walls of the structure's crumbling turret. Storm clouds were gathering low on the eastern horizon. Her chest tightened and for a moment she forgot to breathe. Lyra nudged her hand and whined, sensing the tension in her stillness. Lightning flickered against a gray wall of swirling cloud, which was closing in fast. Foul weather would be upon them soon.
It wasn't the storm itself that alarmed her. Plenty of those had blown in off the sea since her ship had run aground there a month ago. Indeed, she wondered if the unpredictable and sometimes volatile weather was to blame for the notable lack of inhabitants on the island. Most of these storms blew up suddenly and dissipated nearly as fast.
But something about this one was different, for it was stirring up more than just wind and waves. The beginnings of a memory finally surfaced. It was the first one she had experienced since she'd regained consciousness on the deck of her storm-battered ship with her head knotted and bruised. Katriel froze where she stood, not wanting the memory to dissipate before it had a chance to fully emerge.
A woman's face appeared before her mind's eye. Hauntingly beautiful, but pale as death. A strong aura of magic surrounded her; an ancient and twisted art—not at all the good sort that came naturally to Katriel as an elf. She cautiously continued to stoke the smoking embers of memory into flame. The woman's long, dark braids framed a pair of eyes that were deep and treacherous wells. If you allowed yourself to become lost in her gaze, you might never escape—at least not as the same person you were before.
Terror gripped Katriel. She knew that face all too well. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach, and the back of her neck tingled as though it had been brushed with icy fingers. Whatever had happened to her, she instinctively knew the dark-haired woman was behind it. Her doomed voyage had not been one of adventure or exploration—she'd been desperately trying to escape. From what she still did not know. Perhaps from the woman, whose name she could not recall.
Had the terrible storm been her fault after all? Katriel had not been able to forget about the poor children who had washed ashore on the edge of Trinsic's swamplands. Their forlorn faces sometimes haunted her dreams. Phoebe Nox had been kind enough to take them in, but she knew not what had happened to them since. Had their misfortune been caused by the same storm that had nearly sunk her ship? Or was there no connection at all? She simply had to find out.
William!
The name suddenly stabbed at her conscience. A man named William Castle had offered to help her find answers for a small sum of gold. She'd paid it gladly with the intent of giving him more if he found anything credible.
She was under no delusions about his motives, of course. Some referred to him as a pirate, others a privateer. Whichever was true, no doubt he had secretly hoped she was a lost noble with a large fortune and a generous heart. But perhaps they had both underestimated the danger of dredging up her past. She would have to warn him, and if by some miracle he still wanted to help her, significantly increase his pay.
Lightning flashed again, much too close this time, and the resounding peal of thunder that followed shook everything around her. The flame of memory faltered, and the embers turned to ash before she could claim anything more. Katriel sighed deeply. "Come, Lyra, let's go inside. It's not safe up here." Her dog obediently followed as she left the garden and descended the stone staircase.
Not wanting to forget again, Katriel grabbed a quill and a blank piece of parchment off her desk. On it she sketched the woman's face while the wind picked up outside and the first drops of rain pelted the windows. An uncanny likeness emerged from her pen, sending a shiver through her blood. Those eyes… They stared back at her from the page, boring into her very soul.
She hastily rolled up the parchment and shoved it deep into a chest, locking it for good measure. She'd give it to William as a warning the next time she saw him. Should he ever encounter that face, he would be well advised to flee for his life and not look back. The last thing she wanted to do was unwittingly bring whatever curse she was under upon anyone else.
She prayed that it wasn't already too late.
It wasn't the storm itself that alarmed her. Plenty of those had blown in off the sea since her ship had run aground there a month ago. Indeed, she wondered if the unpredictable and sometimes volatile weather was to blame for the notable lack of inhabitants on the island. Most of these storms blew up suddenly and dissipated nearly as fast.
But something about this one was different, for it was stirring up more than just wind and waves. The beginnings of a memory finally surfaced. It was the first one she had experienced since she'd regained consciousness on the deck of her storm-battered ship with her head knotted and bruised. Katriel froze where she stood, not wanting the memory to dissipate before it had a chance to fully emerge.
A woman's face appeared before her mind's eye. Hauntingly beautiful, but pale as death. A strong aura of magic surrounded her; an ancient and twisted art—not at all the good sort that came naturally to Katriel as an elf. She cautiously continued to stoke the smoking embers of memory into flame. The woman's long, dark braids framed a pair of eyes that were deep and treacherous wells. If you allowed yourself to become lost in her gaze, you might never escape—at least not as the same person you were before.
Terror gripped Katriel. She knew that face all too well. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach, and the back of her neck tingled as though it had been brushed with icy fingers. Whatever had happened to her, she instinctively knew the dark-haired woman was behind it. Her doomed voyage had not been one of adventure or exploration—she'd been desperately trying to escape. From what she still did not know. Perhaps from the woman, whose name she could not recall.
Had the terrible storm been her fault after all? Katriel had not been able to forget about the poor children who had washed ashore on the edge of Trinsic's swamplands. Their forlorn faces sometimes haunted her dreams. Phoebe Nox had been kind enough to take them in, but she knew not what had happened to them since. Had their misfortune been caused by the same storm that had nearly sunk her ship? Or was there no connection at all? She simply had to find out.
William!
The name suddenly stabbed at her conscience. A man named William Castle had offered to help her find answers for a small sum of gold. She'd paid it gladly with the intent of giving him more if he found anything credible.
She was under no delusions about his motives, of course. Some referred to him as a pirate, others a privateer. Whichever was true, no doubt he had secretly hoped she was a lost noble with a large fortune and a generous heart. But perhaps they had both underestimated the danger of dredging up her past. She would have to warn him, and if by some miracle he still wanted to help her, significantly increase his pay.
Lightning flashed again, much too close this time, and the resounding peal of thunder that followed shook everything around her. The flame of memory faltered, and the embers turned to ash before she could claim anything more. Katriel sighed deeply. "Come, Lyra, let's go inside. It's not safe up here." Her dog obediently followed as she left the garden and descended the stone staircase.
Not wanting to forget again, Katriel grabbed a quill and a blank piece of parchment off her desk. On it she sketched the woman's face while the wind picked up outside and the first drops of rain pelted the windows. An uncanny likeness emerged from her pen, sending a shiver through her blood. Those eyes… They stared back at her from the page, boring into her very soul.
She hastily rolled up the parchment and shoved it deep into a chest, locking it for good measure. She'd give it to William as a warning the next time she saw him. Should he ever encounter that face, he would be well advised to flee for his life and not look back. The last thing she wanted to do was unwittingly bring whatever curse she was under upon anyone else.
She prayed that it wasn't already too late.