Chapter two

           Then, it all turns around

                        His smile is familiar

                        Evermore is the only word I can use to 

                         describe this in my heart, this sound

I poke at my food boredly. Dinner is quiet today. An eerie hush has fallen over the ship as we get closer to the Siren Islands. We won’t be near for at least a month, but I can tell everyone is anxious.

Only men are affected by sirens, but I’m anxious too.

Well, I’ll just try not to cut myself. It’s easy enough.

Right?

I scowl at my food. Overcooked fish scales to pick off seems rotten today. I push it to the back of the plate and stand up, walking away from the table.

I don’t feel like eating today.

I just walk back to my cabin and lay there on my bed for the next half hour staring at the ceiling until I hear a knock on my door. “Amara?” I recognize Remy’s warm voice. “Come in.” I say quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

Remy opens the door, and walks in, sitting down on the bed next to me.

“You okay?”

I smile a bit at this. “Of course I’m okay, you doofus.” I say, laughing a bit.

Remy laughs, his brown eyes flashing with mirth, and says, “Well how would I know that, Amara?” and playfully punches my arm.

Remy was my constant companion. I always felt so warm and happy around him, and I liked to think he felt the same way. We often spent long hours helping with odd jobs on board. Peeling potatoes for cook’s stews, hauling in the large, stringy nets of fish to salt and smoke which kept the crew fed during the long months at sea. He would also help me keep my skills sharp, as a practice dummy for swordplay, sparring partner, and endlessly patient conversationalist who put up with my existential crap while we completed chores. The soft burr of his accented voice was often the most normal, happy part of my life, as readily part of the background noise as the constant sighing of the sea.
Aside from a rare market day in the odd port towns to stock up on  necessities, I never really spent time around land, and I never even went on it. I deny that I even want to, in fact.
And why would I want to? 

The sea salt spray is temptingly close at all times, but on land you’re surrounded on all sides by uncertainty.

The ocean is bright, and vast, and holds so many secrets, mysteries that you’ll never understand. On land, it’s all just brown and green, even some shades of ivory but never the same.

My mind snaps back into the training as I feel Remy’s sword scrape against mine in a metallic clang. It was a basic light short sword, found in one of the portlands we’d looted. We’ve looted most of our possessions from Augury Bay, and somehow, they haven’t managed to catch us in the act.
I quickly recognize the technique he’s trying to use, it’s a basic but effective one. I counter the move easily.

Any weapons are allowed here, but Remy and I don’t use anything other than our swords most of the time, however, I can fight much better with my katana than a sword.

I pull my katana out, putting my sword back into its sheath. My katana has a black hilt, and a golden sheath. We have a long tradition of naming our katanas, and only them for some peculiar reason. I’ve named this one Dragon. Remy, being himself,named his katana Barracuda. It’s…fitting at the very least.

It has a black and red hilt, and the blade is two-sided. 

Comically, he’s never fully learned how to use it, but his experience in swordplay almost makes up for it in whole.

In swordplay he’s concentrated in a way that looks almost fearsome, and would scare me badly if I didn’t know him so well.

With other blades, you can see the effort he puts into it.

Easy.

I block a hit from Remy. Blocking hits is near pointless, unless you can’t dodge. 

I slice at his sleeve, leaving a tear in the loose, white fabric, revealing about half his arm which I happily choose to ignore.

We both pause, squaring up to each other as we try and calculate the next move. I see some of our crewmates looking at us in amusement.

I ignore them, it’s so quiet that I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Suddenly, Remy runs at me, aiming with his sword which he’s somehow managed to pull out this quickly.

I blink, surprised, and he manages to knock the wind out of me. I recover quickly, and pull out a dagger, concealing it carefully.

My quick counters seem to have distracted him so far. I twist Barracuda with Dragon(my katana pulling through as always), and when he lets down his guard for a second I see my chance.

I quickly pin him down, using my footwork quickly, and holding the knife to his throat.

“Do you yield?” I say, and Remy nods, with not easily discernible fake half-choking to which I don’t lessen the pressure of the blade to his neck, “I yield.”

I help Remy up carefully, and he jokingly says, “Any broken bones at the cost of victory?”

I laugh, and say, “Remy, that was one time, and I just sprained my wrist!”

He shrugs, and I say, “Can we retie the rigging? That hasn’t been done yet.”

“Yep.”

The sea looks green today, it’s always beautiful. But something doesn’t sit right with me as I tie a rope around my waist and climb up the rigging, retying it quickly. It gets easily undone, so, once a month(or more, that’s the minimum) someone comes up here and ties the ropes again.

Remy follows me, mirth apparent in his soft, evergreen lace eyes. The wind blows, and his short, scruffy olive black hair all goes straight into his face. He picks up a strand of it, and scowls at it. At this, I laugh to myself, but continue retying the knots.

The squirming feeling in my stomach hasn’t subsided as I climb up.

Something about the way the water is moving doesn’t sit right with me. The sky is gray. Usually that just means a light rain, but it’s like I can feel the sea stirring. I’m so deep in thought that I don’t even notice Remy has stepped up onto the crow’s nest and is offering to help me up. I take his hand and step up. 

“What’s up with you today, Amara?” I sigh as I look out into the sea. It’s never this green unless…

Oh, holy heck.

Remy seems to notice the fear in my eyes. “Amara, what’s-”

“Remy ...just try and pay attention.” I whisper, and Remy blinks, then I can see the realization dawn on him with the terror in his eyes. Last time there was a storm they found his mothers’ body washed up on shore after a week of searching. Safe to say, Remy is pretty brave but he hates storms.

Sometimes I tease him about it, but teasing him now as I see the fear glint in his eyes would be so cruel. “Hey. It’ll be okay, Remy.”

Remy shivered slightly, tightening the rope around his waist and moving a little closer to me, which I was annoyingly and awkwardly aware of- heck, no time to focus on that!

“Come on Remy.” I say softly, tightening a rope around my waist, hoping for the genuine life of me that it holds.

I take his hand, and give him a questioning look. He nods, and says, “Good idea.” I wrap my arms around his waist, not having any intentions of dropping him on the way down. Remy held onto me tight. I took a deep breath and jumped down from the crow’s nest. The drop felt like all of my insides were being taken out with a pitchfork, but I held onto Remy.

We came to a jerking stop. I hardly dared to open my eyes,but when I did,I saw that we were awkwardly suspended in midair by the ropes. A few of my crewmates gave me weird looks, but I kept my arms safely around Remy. I grabbed the side of the boat with one arm, keeping the other around Remy’s waist. I climb onto the side of the boat. I can easily feel Remy shaking. I let go of Remy once he opens his eyes.

My heart’s pounding. I’ve only ever jumped down from the crow’s nest when I was about six, and only, only, ever by myself.

Remy seems equally shaky, which isn’t saying much.

I untie the rope around my waist, and jump down lightly.

Remy stands there for a second, then unties the rope around his waist and steps down very cautiously.

“Remy? If you keep having a panic attack, go to your cabin and wait out the storm unless we have to go below deck for an emergency.”

Remy nods, and I run to the captain’s quarters, kick the door open, having learned this in secret from Maurice, the quickest way to open a locked door.

He’s sitting at his desk looking over old maps, his desk in front of his bed so he can sit on it as he charts the maps as always, but he looks up, confused.

“There’s a storm brewing on the north side and it looks like it’ll be starting up in about a half-hour. You need to tell them to take the sales down and go below deck.”

He’s up and at the door in a second. 

“Take the sails down!”

The next hour is a blur, taking the sails down, going and getting Remy, who was in his cabin…

The shock must be getting to me.

I look next to me, where Remy is trembling, watching Maurice, his father, take care of the ship.

Oh. Right. Maurice is second in command, so he has to check up on everyone.

Remy suddenly buries his face in my shoulder.

I pause, a little surprised, but I put my arms around him, hoping it’s comforting, at least more so than he is to me, breathing on my neck.

**

When I wake up, I can smell blood.

Author's Note

UGHHHHHHHHH WHY AM I HERE