Dark Waters Rising

Beast

"I've got him!" Cassius yelled down to Castor as he grabbed hold of the rope that held Roman. With the help of Evander and another of his crewmates, Cassius was able to pull the unconscious man over the taffrail and onto the deck. After quickly slicing the rope to untether the sheriff from the sinking ship, Cassius threw another down for Castor to grab hold of. Once the second man was aboard, Cassius and Evander, armed with a trident, returned to the fight. 

"He needs a healer!" Castor shouted, sinking to his knees beside Roman. No one heard him over the fighting. Not knowing what else to do, Castor peeled off his jacket, pulled Roman's head into his lap, and used the jacket to staunch some of the blood seeping from the man's head. 

Desperate, Castor's eyes scanned the ship. There were a lot of siren's still fighting. Magic wielders too. This was not a safe place for either of them. Spotting a staircase not far away, Castor gathered the unconscious man into his arms and hauled him toward it. 

It must've been adrenaline, but Castor felt like he had the strength of ten men in that moment. It was as if Roman weighed nothing. He held the man to his side with one arm, his sword in the other as he deflected a few haphazard attacks from already engaged sirens. 

The lower levels of the ship were nearly empty by comparison. Everyone was topside fighting, apart from a few injured souls who had managed to make it this far down on their own. 

"Is there a healer down here?" Castor asked, receiving only groans and mumbles in reply. Huffing, he continued further until he saw a familiar face. 

Ambrose Roberts was huddled in a small alcove beneath the stairs, half hidden by a mess of nets, boxes, and spare sail. His hands were slick with blood, and in one, he cupped a small seashell as if it was the most precious object in the world. He was also muttering softly to himself.

Deeming it safe enough, Castor laid Roman gently onto the floor.

"Mr. Roberts?" he asked cautiously, unsure of the man's mental state. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, peeking an eye open to see the two in front of him. "Did Wesley make it over as well?"

"I-" Castor cut himself off, thinking through the chaos of the battle above deck. "I'm not sure. I didn't see."

The man grunted. He opened both eyes when he saw Roman's unconscious form. With some effort, he leaned forward, out of his hiding space, and placed his non-occupied palm on the man's forehead. 

"I can't spare the energy to heal him right now," Ambrose said, since in truth it took a lot of magic to heal any wound, "but he will be able to heal himself in time. The wound is not fatal."

Castor sighed in relief. "Do you have any idea when he will wake?"

Ambrose shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't."

Castor nodded as Ambrose settled back into his prior position. 

"Then I will protect him until he does."

----+------+----

Pain exploded through Wesley's hand as he crashed into the raging sea beneath him. The impact was excruciating, and it was all he could do to not cry out at the grinding of his broken bones. 

He recovered quickly through necessity. 

Thankfully, the waters were relatively clear of siren enemies, but that meant nothing in the face of the beast. It was the first time Wesley had laid eyes on the creature. He had had an inkling of how big it was from the water displacement its arrival caused at the beach where it had taken Valentine, but seeing it now, he realized it was far more massive than he could have ever imagined. 

It was similar to a squid in shape. Its mantle could've blanketed several farm fields if unraveled, and the longest of its tentacles must've been close to a mile when sprawled straight. It was truly an impressive sight to behold, especially since the furthest ends of the creature seemed to disappear in the distant water, making it nearly impossible to view all at once.

The creature's massive yellow eye passed under Wesley as he floated in awe. It was larger than he was, and he shuddered as the large, dark pupil grazed over his puny form. To the Kraken, Wesley must've seemed like no more than a speck of dust. For that, he was thankful, since it seemed more interested in pulsing its tentacles and soaring gracefully in the direction of Aurelia. 

The movement of the Kraken caused the water to stir, and Wesley held his hand close to his chest as he was pulled into the new current, flipping wildly until he was disoriented and nauseous. When he was freed from the stream a short while later, he watched the tips of the Kraken's tentacles disappear into the murky depths before he turned his attention back to the ships. 

It was surreal, watching the Queen Adelaide slowly succumb to her fate. She was fully submerged now, both halves twisted apart and sinking at different angles. They drifted apart as they fell, and some nostalgic part of Wesley recalled the now bittersweet memories of first setting foot on her deck. Memories of his rise through the ranks of the ship, until he had finally been promoted to captain, filled his heart with warmth. He had learned how to fight with a sword on those decks. He had made irreplaceable friendships and explored the world thanks to her sails. Then he recalled the first time he'd met Valentine, and though the circumstances were less than ideal, they were still fond memories. 

But now she was lost, and Wesley filled with sorrow knowing he would never again stand at her helm. He would never hear the familiar thunk of his boots against her deck. Never hear her sails billow in the wind or her bow plow through the waves. He felt like he'd lost a part of himself. 

After a few more moments of watching the gradual descent to death of his double masted brigantine, Wesley began his slow, arduous swim to the Blight of the Sea. 

This battle was wrapping up. 

It was all up to Valentine now.

----+------+----

A/N

Question: what's one small thing that you could do to improve your life?

Thanks for reading,
-Mora Montgomery