1
Moria
I knew I wouldn’t make it out alive when the sky turned over, died a great death, and shifted from bright blue to an inky black. A sailor’s institution never lies, after all. The rain erupted spontaneously, pounding on the ship in a sideways torrent, blinding me.
My ship rocked along to the tempo of the tempest. The clouds allowed not one drop of sunshine, no suggestion of reprieve. The crew is thrown along the ship’s bow as a wave tosses the vessel like a paper boat. I scurry to the helm, the wind whipping at my face, making me have to drudge against its force.
“Batten down the hatches!” I order, “Get the sails off her, mister mate, and secure for heavy weather.”
It came out of the blue. No time to prepare, no warning. The sky would usually heed us with the gradual darkening, the gathering of the clouds, change in the wind, even the smell of the sea when a storm approaches. Nothing.
We were given no reprieve, no chance at redemption, it was blue and then it was black. The sails down, and catching the vicious wind, being whipped about with no regard, waves lashing against the hull.
“We’re taking on water captain,” Selly yells over the roar of the sea. Lightning flashes against the sky contrasting the nightmare that is the sky.
“How much?” I scream.
He holds up a bucket, tossing it over the side. “Too much! More than we can bail out for sure! Not to mention the sails were up when the storm blew in. We’re knots off course!”
“How many?”
“I couldn’t say. Not till we’re right side up again, We’re sinking, Captain.”
Shit. The storm shows no sign of relenting, the rain dragging us further down, aiding in our sinking. The sea is only getting choppier. Lightning dances across the sky once more, lighting the figurehead. He cuts through the sea, Youin, god of water.
The Demise can’t take much more of this. We pushed her to her limits already, escaping Moshoy’s Navy. Pushed her to 20 knots. She almost came apart. Now she’s falling apart at the seams and the water, the water is pulling at every weakness, every missing nail, every tiny hole. It wriggles its way into dooming us all. I’ve given up on barking orders. I don’t even see an eye. There is no avoiding this blind storm. All that’s left to do is to try our best not to let the sea shake us out into it.
“Hold on tight, we’re going down,”
I hold tight to the at the helm but the sea is fighting me, wrestling it out of my hand. I plant my feet, the water to my ankles now, filling my boots. My hat blows off my head landing in the tumultuous sea below, swallowed whole by the ending darkness.
As a sailor, and even more so as a pirate, you are keenly aware that the sea is never and will never be your friend. The sea is alive and she is a backstabbing, two-faced bitch, who would one day give you clear skies and the next, without prejudice, sink you to the bottom of her depths the next. That’s why I named my ship Demise. Its true name is Moria’s Demise. But I dropped the name. The sea will be every sailor’s demise one way or another. Either it drags you into its inky hold, or the longing of it kills you from the land.
The sea will be your demise.
The ship is still sinking. It won’t let us go, the Sea of Moshoy. It’s intent on taking us down. All we do now is hope for a miracle. These waters are said to be blessed by the Water God, Youin. Sailors put him on the bow of their ships, on the side of their hull.
Blessed by Youin.
Tuh. No one is blessed by the gods. Not really. Just not hated by them at the most. Waves threaten to take us under, the crew struggling to hold on to anything possible. Sully clings to the side of the ship, and Johnny, Johnny is clinging to life to the stern, red hair flooding behind him. Hally holds onto the mast, her fingernails digging into the wood. Hally is the youngest of my crew of five, I picked her up in a port in Florence begging at a temple to Orion. Her tears mix with the rain.
The storm has been raging for over an hour. Who knows how long we’ll be here, attempting to hold on as the Demise takes on more and more water? It’s up to my knees now. But no one can bail out, not when we’re holding on for dear life, the ship is halfway in the water.
Lightning strikes one more this time hitting the figurehead, slicing the head of Youin off. It’s the definition of a bad omen. Sully prays nonsensically to Youin. I clench my jaw, struggling to keep the helm straight and my focus as he mumbles his fearful supplications. Any attempt to shut him out is rendered null and void.
Youin, God of the Deep, hear my prayer.
The helm is slipping from my grasp. Water is seeping between my fingertips and prying me off I’m going to lose control—
I am but a sailor, a victim of your mighty waters, cast aside by the gods of the shore, called to your side to your wonder—
I won’t be able to keep the boat steady. We are gonna sink. The water is up to my thighs now, we’re damn near capsized. And the storm is still raging. It’s over.
Please I beg, save us, 6 sailors from calamity, the depths of despair in the watery deep, Dear Youin, Patron of Sailors, God of the Water—
And then I see it. Off in the distance. Finally, this monster of a storm, this cursed tempest, has an end. I see the eye. It is not divine retribution. It is just a storm and maybe I still won’t survive it but I feel better knowing. The sky lightens a bit, the rain easing up. The eye is clearer now. The storm is dissipating. The wind calms, now gently pushing the storm clouds further out to sea.
“Start bailing water out of the ship,” I bellow, “If we ever want to be right side up again, now’s the time!”
Johnny begins, frantically scooping out water with anything he can do.
“Sully! Start throwing everything unnecessary off the ship! I need to make this ship as light as a feather!”
My crew follows my commands and as the storm eases further away, we finally get ourselves righted and bail most of the water out. Things are looking up, it looks like we might make it past this abomination of a thunderstorm.
And then it happens.
The ship rights itself suddenly, tossing Hally off the port and into the ocean. I blink and swallow. There is no swimming this far out. Either we pull her in, she swims until she dies of exhaustion or dehydration. Or something gets her. The sea hasn’t calmed yet, and it pulls her further away, the waves throwing her out of reach of the life float. She’s going to die. Only 18 years old, that girl, she’s barely lived.
I can see it in her eyes. They’re wide and black? Full of fear. We both know she’s about to die here. I swallow and close my eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Am I going to do this?
Am I really going to do this?
Fuck.
I have to. I throw myself into the water. I’m good enough to swim her back. But I don’t think I’ll be able to wait for the rescue. I swim toward her, my arms beginning to burn as I fight the churning of the sea. It’s cold, freezing, seeping into my pants and into my shirt, sluicing down my skin.
“What are you doing?” She screams.
I ignore her. I can’t talk and keep my focus, keep my breathing even. She swims toward me, sobbing. I pull her in and take her hand. I was hoping I had at least a good 50 more years until I’d hand her the helm and my hat. Now, I won’t have anything to give her. Except hopefully, her life. We get closer to the ship and Sully tosses out of the life float.
“You’re the captain,” She swallows. “Go up, and I’ll wait here.”
She’s already been at sea for 10 minutes, fighting just to stay afloat. If I leave her she’ll die.”
Silently, I force her to the life float and nod at Sully to take her up. Hally shakes her head desperately her eyes filling with more tears. A soft smile takes over my face. What a kid. Crying at every little thing like that. I thought she’d grown out of that. I suppose not. The sky is completely clear now, any trace of discord of the beast we’d just encountered vanished. I watch Hally disappear up to the ship. She’s safe, and the life float comes back down for me. To save me.
I think back to that prayer.
How dumb is Sully, anyway?
He doesn’t even believe in the gods. Just last week he was saying that he only believed in the trinity: Alcohol, Money, and Sex. Now he’s praying to the gods, what a faker. I’m gonna rip him a new one for that.
My arms are tired, I’m not pushing myself closer to the ship I’m just drifting away. The life float hits the water but it’s so far away. I’m so tired. I don’t think I can swim anymore. My arms stop moving. I lift my hands, sighing at the y healed blisters from my encounter. The saltwater stings them even more.
My eyes close for a moment and I’m that singular second, the second I rest, something wraps around my ankle and starts pulling me down. I hold my breath as I go under, my eyes opening. Under the watery tint of the sea, I catch a glimpse of the side of my ship. Where did Youin’s head go, I wonder? Not that it matters now. The side of my ship taunts me with my own words.
Noo...first they were my mother’s words. I wrote them in spite of her. She said to me when I was a girl, and like my father, the sea called to me, she said: Moriaa...the sea will be your demise. How silly I was as a young girl to write it ironically as if it were unbelievable, some joke, some outlandish claim. I soon realized those words would one day ring true. I just...didn’t think it was today. The breath I’m holding escapes and my vision darkens. I’m too far gone now. I reach out.
Moria’s Demise.
Fitting. Live by the sea, die by the sea, that’s a pirate’s code. My vision goes black. I am going to die. I am going to die without my hat. That’s the greatest shame in all of this ain’t it? Moira without her infamous hat? Moria saving some green kid from drowning like she’s not just gonna do it in a few years anyway? It’s too late for regrets. Time to embrace my watery grave. And I’d better get to dying quickly. I don’t want to feel when the creatures start nibbling on my toes.
I close my eyes, let my body go slack, and fall further. My hand extends as if, I want some last-ditch life ring to fall into my hands. Something warm and smooth wraps around my hand, forcing me to open my eyes. The numbness from the cold has all but taken any feeling I had away. But this hand is warm enough to bring it back.
A glowing figure with a halo of blue hair floats in front of me, donning a white garment, long and flowing. He leans forward, closing his eyes, and pressing his lips against mine, softly, somewhat awkwardly. The tightness in my lungs disappears. It’s like I’ve taken a breath of fresh air. Gills open at the side of his neck. His skin is pale with a blue tint. The mysterious creature pulls away and cocks his head.
“Can you breathe?”
I blink and nod. Is this a death dream? My brain’s effort to put me out of my misery, to do me a kindness and pretend everything is okay because a god saved me? Perhaps.
“I am Youin. God of Water and Patron of honorable sailors lost at sea.”
Honorable? Huh. I’m a pirate. I’m anything but honorable. I pilfer and steal for a living. And I enjoy it. But I’m not going to tell him that. Subconscious or not, I won’t ever deny kindness. A leg up.
“I saw how you saved that young woman,” he pulls me further into the sea, into the dark. “At the expense of your own life. It was quite honorable.”
“Then doesn’t that mean you caused the storm that sent me overboard in the first place,” I ask, glaring at him.
His gills flap in surprise. “I am God of Water. Not God of Storms.” He explains simply.
My brows knit, butt...he’s something with power: even if this is a weird hallucination, I’m breathing. Taking. Not dying. I’ll let it go for now. The water goes from blue to pitch black. The pressure should be crushing us. It should be deflating my lungs. This death dream has been going on for an awfully long time.
“Where are we going?” I ask hesitantly.
“To my palace,” he says, his long blue hair floating behind him, a soft smile on his face. He looks so young and beautiful. His skin is flawless, his features sharp and youthful.
A herd of fish passes by us, circling around us twice before swimming on their way. A shark glides by him, rubbing its side up against his arm. The man doesn’t show any fear. He just smiles and rubs it, pushing it along with his hand on its snout. What is he?
We go a little further down into the water, once pitch black illuminated with lights, revealing a large castle on the seafloor, made of marble, and covered in sea life, schools of fish swimming through the opulent arch.
“Welcome,” he smiles, floating onto a large walkway, the water giving way to air. At the end stood two large golden doors, marble statues on either side of the entrance. “And one more thing,” he smiled, pulling something from a nearby fish. He sets it atop my head with a proud grin. “There. And now you’re whole again, Captain Moira of the Moria’s Demise.”
I touch the waterlogged hat with a grin. “So I am.”
