The Moonlit Seas 8 - The Cost of Power
*The book is bound in dark brown leather, the cover depicts a circular portrait of a ship sailing toward the moon on a calm sea as rays of light cast along the water. The edges of the painting have an intricate lattice of silver. *
----------------------------------
The depths... those who have traveled to the ocean's bottom know all too well the silence and noise it brings. Being a foreigner to these lands beneath the waves can mean swift death for any ill-prepared explorer.
----------------------------------
The next morning, the crew of the Gambit awoke to find Nerissa standing at the bow of the ship, gazing into the depths below. She turned toward them with a crooked smile in greeting.
Mira, finding it all too early for any hint of mystical sea nonsense, let a annoyed "What." slip from her lips before the warlock's head snapped toward her, letting out a soft hiss that sounded like water spraying into the hull. Nerissa then returned her gaze to Lenore, with Rylan standing ever ready at her side.
"Your final trial will be tonight, little tempest. We will travel to the depths. Bring the storm-child with you...he may prove useful..." Lenore looked to Rylan cautiously, to which he replied with a single nod.
----------------------------------
When they returned to port, Kael went to the other ships to inquire about renting a vessel equipped with a diving bell. At Rylan's request "I don?t trust the sea witch's spells alone to keep us alive below."
After chartering a vessel, the crew set out to load supplies onto The Driftworn. The ship was much smaller than the Gambit but had a bell to bring them safely to the depths. Ballin inspected it closely, his hands running through his beard as he scrutinized the poor craftsmanship before cursing and setting to work reinforcing it for the dive ahead.
Mira and Lenore watched with amusement as the men carried crates onto the ship, chuckling with each other.
"He's grown quite fond of you," Mira said with a smirk. "Wasn't sure if our captain even would find a lasses, given how little interest he had in love before you came around." Lenore found herself blushing, heat rising to her lately ever-cold cheeks as a smile crept across her face. "I'd be a daft woman not to fall for him, after everything he's done for me," she replied with a soft chuckle.
"Well, he'd be a daft man not to see to your needs. If he ever doesn't, just remember there's always room in my bed for you." Mira replied with a wink.
The two women laughed amongst themselves while Rylan looked down the gangplank, wondering what the joke was. His distraction caused the crate to slip from his hands, landing on Kael's foot. "Dammit, Rylan, pay attention!" Kael cried, causing all of them to burst into laughter...even Kael, eventually.
----------------------------------
Later that evening, Rylan and Lenore found themselves inside the diving bell as he inspected the gauges, ensuring they were working correctly. Lenore had taken the time to slip into one of the diving suits that lined the walls, sneaking up on him with much chagrin. "We won?t be needing those," he said. "Nerissa's spells can give us breath for what's ahead. an we have potions aswell, Go ahead and put it back."
With a devilish smirk, Lenore slowly removed the suit, revealing that she wore little else beneath it...
(There really isn?t that much air in those bells!!! Hells, is someone pumping air while they?re doing this?! The whole thing has to be rocking around!!)
----------------------------------
Night descended, and they found themselves ready for the task at hand. Nerissa refused to go down in the bell, simply jumping into the water with a cruel smile as Rylan and Lenore followed within the structure.
The diving bell groaned as it descended, its iron ribs creaking under the pressure of the endless dark. Nerissa's magic shimmered around Lenore and Rylan like a second skin, granting them breath but little comfort. Through the thick glass, the abyss unfolded... a nightmare of bioluminescent tendrils, eyeless fish with translucent flesh, and distant, unblinking lights that might have been stars... or something watching.
Rylan gripped Lenore's hand, his warmth a defiance against the cold. "Whatever happens down here," he said, his voice muffled by the bell's oppressive silence, "We surface together."
Nerissa floated beside them, untethered, her robes billowing like ink in water. "The final trial is not of strength, child," she intoned, her eyes glowing brighter as they sank deeper. "It is of devotion. All power demands sacrifice. Yours? is him...."
The bell struck the seafloor in a cloud of silt, revealing a chasm lined with jagged obsidian spires. Below, tentacles thicker than ship masts coiled and uncoiled, their suckers studded with teeth. At the center of the abyss, something stirred... a presence older then time
----------------------------------
Lenore whirled on Nerissa. "You said the trials were about control!"
"Control requires surrender," the warlock hissed. "The depths do not share its gifts. Give the deep a life, and the pact is sealed. Refuse... and it will take both of you!"
Rylan drew his cutlass, the blade gleaming even in the void. "Come an' try it, Sea Hag!"
Nerissa's laughter bubbled like a drowning man's last breath. She raised her hands, and the tentacles surged.
Chaos erupted.
Rylan moved like a shark, his cutlass slicing through rubbery flesh as tendrils lashed at the bell. Lenore summoned walls of black ice, but the abyss corroded them, dissolving her magic into swirling ash. Nerissa hovered above the fray, chanting in a language that made the water vibrate with malice.
"You cannot win, little tempest. The deep always claims its due."
A tentacle snapped Rylan's cutlass in two. Another wrapped around his leg, yanking him toward the chasm.
"RYLAN!"
Lenore's scream unleashed something primal. The voices in her mind roared in unison as she plunged her hands into the seafloor. Ice erupted not as shields, but as a jagged spire that impaled the tentacle holding him. Rylan fell free, blood blooming from a gash on his temple.
Nerissa descended, her patience gone. "Foolish girl. You spare him only to doom us all!" She hurled a shard of cursed ice, aiming for Rylan?s heart.
He dodged, but not fast enough. The shard sank into his shoulder, and he crumpled, his skin leaching blue.
Lenore's vision turned white.
The cold inside her detonated.
A blade formed in her hand... obsidian ice, crackling with void-black energy. She moved faster than thought, driving it through Nerissa's chest. The warlock gasped, her glowing eyes wide as frost spiderwebbed across her skin.
"You... cannot... outrun... the tide..." Nerissa rasped before falling limp.
The abyss shuddered.
A colossal eye opened beneath them, its pupil a gateway to oblivion. The chasm itself breathed, and a single tentacle rose, wrapping Nerissa's remains in a lover's embrace.
"A worthy offering," boomed a voice that was everywhere and nowhere. "But the pact remains... unfulfilled."
Lenore dragged Rylan into the bell, her tears mingling with the sea as she slammed the hatch. "Stay with me. Stay with me!"
----------------------------------
The ascent felt eternal. Rylan's breath grew shallow, his veins mapping blue beneath his skin. Lenore pressed her forehead to his, whispering promises, curses, prayers...until his eyes fluttered open.
"Told ya... I'd... be your anchor," he choked, grinning through the pain.
She kissed him, salt and blood and relief.
----------------------------------
Dawn found them on The Driftworn's deck, the crew hovering nervously. Kael bandaged Rylan's arm, while Mira muttered oaths about "damn fool heroes." Ballin offered rum, to which Rylan drank heavily, his gaze fixed on Lenore.
She stood at the rail, Nerissa's book in hand. The pages were blank now, the whispers silent. For the first time, the power inside her felt like a choice, not a curse.
"Where to, Captain?" Rylan asked with a smirk, limping to join her, spyglass in hand.
Lenore smiled. "Anywhere. And everywhere... but first? Calimport...."
----------------------------------
That night, as the Gambit sailed toward familiar waters, Rylan found Lenore at the prow. The moon painted her in silver, the sea calm beneath her fingertips.
"Still hear them?" he asked.
She leaned into him. "No. But I'm listening anyway."
Somewhere in the deep, the eye closed.
But the pact remained.
----------------------------------
Written by Trevor Highdale
Any likeness to folk, or events in the world is merely coincidence, this is a work of fiction. Written for entertainment.
----------------------------------
"Ahoy, Mateys! Ready to Mark Yer Place Among the Freebooters of Sencliff?"
If ye be lookin, to prove yer mettle an' earn yer stripes on this fair isle, James Wayland's the man to see. With a needle in hand an' a steady pour o' Bumbo nearby, he'll mark ye with the ink o' the Sencliff pirates'a badge o' honor fer those who sail the waves an' live by their own code.
What's Offered:
- Crew Tattoos: Show yer loyalty to the crews o' Sencliff an' gain access to their quarters, their secrets, an' their spoils.
- Island Privileges: With the right ink, ye'll find yerself welcome in the many rentals an' hideaways scattered cross the isle.
- No Fuss, No Fancy: James ain't one fer flowery designs, but his work's solid
Who's Welcome:
- Any soul with a taste fer adventure an' a lack o' scruples.
- Non-monstrous races only James doesn't do scales, fur, or extra limbs.
- If ye've got a moral compass, best leave it at the door.
Why Sencliff?
- Maggie in the Festhall pours the finest drinks this side o' the Sword Coast.
- The waves call to the bold, an' the isle's ripe fer plunder an' glory.
- Whether ye're a seasoned sailor or a landlubber lookin' fer a new life, Sencliff's the place to make yer mark.
Find James in the festhall itself. No need for coin, but a tale or two, an' a stomach fer the sting.
"Ink yer skin, join the crew, an' let the tides carry ye to fortune, or folly!"