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♚ XI. OF CURRENTS ♙

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Landon felt the shiver of death set over him and instinctually, he knew that he was about to die

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Landon felt the shiver of death set over him and instinctually, he knew that he was about to die.

Growing up as he had, there had been no shortage of times when Landon thought he was about to die. One of his earliest memories had been fighting against the currents of the sea, gasping for breath, feeling his muscles weaken. Another instance had been after a particularly violent beating where Landon was bleeding and he knew that he'd lost too much blood already and if he didn't get it to stop he would die.

This sensation was unlike any of the times before. To Landon, death had always been about an inner weakness, a failing of his own body. This was something external. This was looking into the eyes of another creature and somehow knowing that it had just made up its mind to kill you and there was nothing you could do about it.

For the first time in his life, Landon felt the terror of knowing that death was coming, that it was inevitable, and that no matter how quickly his mouse-heart beat, the cat before him was going to kill him. Not because the cat had taken some insult in his action, not because the cat was angry and needed to take it out, not even because the cat was cruel. Simply because that was what cats did to mice.

And then, the captain stepped between them.

The captain was saying something but Landon could not process his words. All he could hear were the crashing waves against the ship and the relief screaming in his ears. Landon wasn't about to die. The captain had saved his life, perhaps unwittingly, perhaps otherwise. Landon really, really did not care right now.

All he cared was that the silver eyes of the thief, the silver eyes of death incarnate, had moved on from Landon.

"-just a misunderstanding," he said.

"Is that so?" the captain asked. "Apologies for him. Landon is one of the junior members of my crew. Only been sailing for a couple of years. He's a good worker, better than most of those boys, but he still hasn't the experience to-"

"Landon?" The stranger's tongue curled around Landon's name, sending a small shiver of terror down his spine. "That's your name?"

"Ye- yes," Landon said.

This stranger, this Ray, pursed his lips. They were painfully pretty things. A bit like rose petals in both their hue and shape. They did not seem to suit him at all. And yet, at the same time, Landon could not see him without his fine features. They made sense in a way. Beautiful things were oftentimes the most deadly.

"If you," Ray said, his voice soft, almost considerate, but there was something else there too, some unseen power that made the hair on the back of Landon's neck stand at attention, "or anyone else on this ship dares to touch me again, I will not hesitate to throw them overboard without arms or legs to assist in their swim back to shore."

Despite his neutral tone, Landon did not doubt the violence of his words for a moment.

"I'm sure it won't come to that," the captain said.

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