Remind Me...Why is My Rum Gone? (18+ - Mature)

[Aziraphale]

Humans. Mortal, weak and foolish, Tanae thought as Akoola talked. He had not listened carefully enough. But that was okay.

She smiled at him, her mouth crinkling pleasantly, but it was entirely too full of teeth to be anything but moderately unsettling. She liked this mortal. Not as much as Darla…or Shadow, and she knew that if she was asked to by her darling, tattooed Shadow, anything would be given to the woman. Anything, and everything, because Tanae knew in a way that only mermaids and creatures of the myths of men, that Shadow was truly that. But she had been asked to not tell, as had the women and creatures of her lineage, and had promised on their pearls to never tell. So they would not.

“It does not satisfy. I merely want your word, and your promise. When I know what it is I desire, I will have you give it unto me and my own.”

It was now that she moved, sidling uncomfortably close to the Pirate Lord. Mischief and danger danced in the unfathomable depths of her eyes. She smelled of salt air and blood and magic, like most mermaids would. Half tempted to sing the man into the depths, Tanae stood too close and smiled.

“And ally carries far different connations for my kind than yours. Are you sure you wish to be my…ally, Akoola? You would be allied, of course, just as Shadow is, and belong to my sisters and I. Your choice, of course.”

|||||||||

Gretchen, who had been looking over the edge of the Rocinate, only belatedly heard Cecilia exiting her cabin and walking across the decks of her ship. Fumbling in a manner most uncharacteristic of her, the Reaver of the Caribbean reached for the compass she had gotten (that goddamned, stupid piece of trash that had no business plumbing the depths of her soul thank you very fucking much).

“Ce…Lord Cervantes. I have the compass. We await your heading. The Crows will fly with you until we bring our Lord back. We stand at the ready, lead us.”

She managed to keep her voice from wavering, managed to keep her back straight and her blue eyes fierce. Darl…Shadow would be proud. Such a convincing display of calmness, of readiness, of determination, masking an inner core of utter despair. All at once, Gretchen was again reminded of all they must have put Shadow through. Their Lord. Shadow, the most faithful of them all. Years of pain, distrust and pretending, and Shadow had borne it all without complaint. They had…

Her hand curled into a fist behind her back as she held the compass out to Cecilia with other hand. They would get their Shadow back.

::::::

He had to wait. All men had to sleep, sometime, and this one was connected to his daughter. He could see the golden-green lines that he knew to be his own blood’s mark wrapped around the man, and the spirit within the man. Tangled messily, as those bindings all too often were. They lead back to her, he knew, but following them would take more energy than he had, so far from his home. So he had come to find this man.

Well, not this man. But he would do. He would do. The connections were there, and they were tight enough that that compass of his would have no problem finding her. The compass, however, was elsewhere. So he would have to rely on this man to find his daughter. Just get close enough for him to see her, instead of that morass of a web that had been woven around her.

So he waited, masked in magic and nonexistence, until the man slept. That was his providence, his patience and his power. The Dreamer, the Guardian, Hyacinth. His daughter had been taken. He wanted her back.

Finally, the man slept. Not restful, not proper, but it was sleep. He gathered his power around him like a cloak and insinuated himself into the man’s slumbering mind. It took practically no time to dredge up his memories of the girl the man had on his mind, molding them to suit his purposes. He needed this one to find his daughter. He could find this one, and he could find his daughter after this one found her. Perfection.

“Shadow…she needs you. Find her…” he purred into the dream, twisting the words into the very fabric of his conjured dream. The content of the dream, he left up to the imagination of the one he had found, as that itself did not concern him. Only that he dreamed of his daughter, and that the dreams urged him to find her.

<><><><><>

“Mmmngh.”

Blood painted the wall. And her skin. All across her skin. Across her face, down her body, sliding across a completely naked frame. The priest was gone. Anything resembling the priest was gone, and she was sprawled out across his blood-and-water soaked bed, arms pillowing her head, legs spread wide, and candlelight illuminating her frame. In the darkness, her tattoos were obscured. Her arm, still itching, looked savage, but the tattoos on her legs – the ones that very few saw, or ever remembered, were gentle and curving. They were a matched set, etched into her flesh by Tanae years before. They stretched across her thighs, tracing up the outsides of her legs from a handsbreadth above her knee, to a handsbreadth beneath her hip. A koi fish, one on each leg. One black, with a white circle on its head, and the other white, with a black circle on its head.

Around each whorled swirls of water and liquid, etched carefully into her skin. They were intricate and entrancing, much like her other tattoos. Hell, there was even one on the bottom of her right foot, a simple water lily that Tanae had done upon request, instead of as payment for services rendered. Shadow had liked it. It had been something different. Then. Now.

She looked down at her body, as firelight danced across her skin. It was entrancing, she knew, but what she did not see puzzled her. The webbing of scars she had gained as Darla – for Darla, was completely gone. All that remained were scars she had earned as Shadow. Precious few of those. The brand over her heart, from when she had been sworn by the Bokor to Samedi and the Ghede, a few nicks on her hands, the tattoos, were still present, but everything else was gone. The lines of fire that she had felt stripping her down to nothingness had stripped her identity from her. She was no one.

Fine.

Fine.

“Fine!” she growled, flickering out of the light, and appearing at the door, fully clothed and garbed in the regalia of a Shadow.

If she was no one…

The chaos that had dulled in her head, that had faded to a pleasant numbness, that had made everything bearable again, reared its head and roared. With eyes that saw nothing but destruction, and a history that had been obliterated at the hands of some mythic beings, Shadow stepped into the moonlight that embraced its child. The crewmen yelled, there was a weapon drawn and Shadow did nothing. She stood, still and unassuming as they rushed her.

No one.

Nothing.

Agony.

Her world exploded into shards, into pain, into misery, into absolute loneliness and abandonment and Shadow felt.

She screamed, and the world screamed back at her.

Her knees hit the wood of the deck and Shadow felt.

[MYSTK]

It was a strange thing to be bargaining with a being of legend but Akoola didn’t let it faze him. She was both alluring (it would be very hard to find a beautiful naked woman in your room not alluring) and yet there a savagery about her that kept part of him on edge. Unpredictable and volatile but so far she seemed in a good mood and seemed to be enjoying the interaction perhaps as much as he was.

“My promise, to be called on at any time…” the thought rang in his mind.

It was a strange place he had been placed in. The vagueness of it meant it could be anything they desired and beings such as them could have very strange requests if in the right or wrong mood.

As she sidled up to him Akoola didn’t flinch or move, he let her stand close to him and perhaps even pressed himself slightly against her naked, still damp form. Being of the sea she was saturated in it’s scent but had Akoola not been one with a love for the ocean and the freedom it brought he perhaps would have recoiled. To him the smells she carried reminded him of everything he was before all the drama. He was Pirate Lord, a man who some questioned as even being human. He was shrouded in enigma, his crew sharing in the same cloaking of mystery that enveloped him. An Atlantean by blood and a destiny to kill a god, revenge for a people slain out of fear of their potential...and plans. Yes, he was a legendary being in his own right.

He lingered for a second and then began to slowly walk around his guest. Her words about being an ally had intrigued him but perhaps she had been better off leaving them unsaid as now he curious and was going pry,

“Different connotations?” he said as he kept the closeness between them somewhat as he walked around her.

He stopped behind her and lightly traced his index and middle fingers down the sides of her neck and shoulders whilst re-establishing the closeness that two strangers would most probably blush at and feel awkward about. Mermaid's were sensual creatures and Akoola was a sensual man when he allowed himself to be. His fingers continued to lightly trace their way down her arms till they reached her elbows where they stopped and slowly made their way back up to her shoulders. Most men would probably have become quite desperate and hands on but if she wanted to play games then Akoola could play though someone would have to lose eventually.

“What exactly does it mean to be an ally then?” he whispered into her ear, it wasn't a seductive tone but one of pure curiosity and besides their closeness didn't need him to talk that loud.

He walked around to the front and then to a table where a glass of wine he had poured was. He sipped the drink slowly as he waited for her response, he acted as if nothing had happened whilst smirking behind a mouth which was imbibing fine wine.

---------------------

Crestielo continued to sit on the edge of the bed as his feelings continued to swim and slowly settle. A bitter feeling of pain racked his entire being as it seemed a childhood desire and dream and only been that and nothing more. Gretchen's face popped into his mind only to be mentally swatted away to avoid feeling anymore hurt. He stood and left Darla's room and headed to the deck of the ship. It appeared as though everyone was getting ready...

[Himeno]

The lack of news from the Sirens regarding Suleiman somewhat disconcerted her. Had they not found him? Or maybe this whole siren charade was just a farce? Should she doubt? Her memories did not lie. That day had been a turning point in her life. It was the day she had first admired her Father as a Pirate and the day she swore to become worthy as his daughter and heir to Rocinante. What had occurred that day was too marked to ever be questionable. Therefor what Calypso had said could not be questionable either. Besides, she had heard those sirens. They had been in her mind and they had spoken to her. She could not doubt.

Cecilia looked at the compass Gretchen handed to her. That infamous compass that could not point north but could point at your heart's desires. For several seconds, her eyes did nothing else other than contemplate the object in her hands. They expected her to find Shadow with this. First Suleiman or Selim, but the goal in the end was Shadow. Why had they entrusted her the task to find either of them? She knew why. They must have known. The Crows surely knew. And that unnerved her.

They knew that her heart's desire was Suleiman.

"Very well." Cecilia opened the compass, noting how it indeed did not point North. Then, the arrow slowly began to move. At first it went left to right, unsure of where to turn about. Then, it chose left as it began to go in circles. Spinning around and around. And then, it stopped.

"We're heading Northwest!!"

Cecilia searched for Ivalio among the Crows, hoping to speak to him about her encounter with Calypso. Crestelio was half-siren. Did that meant he was at her disposal as well? Maybe, maybe not. She didn't want to venture to find out anyway. Speaking to the Crows about her identity was not entirely prudent which is why she chose to say nothing to Ivalio. Suleiman was her only confident. He wasn't here now. That meant her secret would remain hers for now.

[Crowley]

Wrapped in ice deep within the Artic sea he felt nothing and saw nothing; he was blind and deft and very happy to be there. Any other desire he had had in his heart was promptly diminished by the cold. His body was cold, his flesh like ice and his organs had started to shut down, it was a kind of hibernation, a kind of “death”.

There were no more confusing thoughts, no more half-truths no more emotional turmoil. It didn’t matter what his mortal body resembled, he could be wearing his brother’s skin but it was not a great concern anymore. He just wanted to drift away and sleep.

---

The Grimalkin fulfilled his command, the moment Selim reached the harbor he saw the Roxelana in the distance cradled in the sunbathed waters of the Caribbean ocean, a boat was coming to fetch him; he started to run and reached the shore quickly. The thing that manned the boat shocked him for a moment but he decided it was not so bad, at least the thing had all its limbs in place and even though its face had been eaten by the fish he still had both eyes.

The black cat sat beside him, its green eyes fixed on the half eaten pirate that rowed until they reached the ship; a line was thrown and they climbed up, on deck Selim was saluted by an army of zombie looking pirates.

“Are these … things trustworthy?” he asked the cat with his hand on the hilt of his cut-lass.

The cat nodded its eyes shining like jewels. “They recognize you Lord Suleiman,” the cat answered pointedly. “They will obey your commands.”

Selim nodded, so, he was wearing his brother’s skin which made him the commander of this half rotten army of undead corsairs. Very well, he’ll play the game but he’ll never turn his back on them –or the damn cat.

[Aziraphale]

OOC: Didn't reread this. So much writing. all my brainjuice went t othis. Alu I blame you. Don't ask why. Love you all. Hublargh. This probably makes no sense. Dun care. Finished writing it, so I's postin' it. And going to sleep.

"""""""

“As you command, Lord Cervantes,” Gretchen said with a bow. “The Crows will follow you. Guide us well.”

Gretchen was gone as soon as she finished speaking, rushing back to her ship to prepare it for launch. This was going to potentially be the most dangerous thing that the Crows had ever undertaken, and they were doing it shorthanded, with busted-up crews and resonating stresses reverberating through them. Her and Crestielo would have to talk after this…yes. They would.

Absentmindedly, she brushed her fingertips across her lips again and boarded her ship, waving her crew off and giving her helmsman the command to follow the Rocinate. Gretchen wanted to be alone just to think for a bit. She walked down into the depths of her ship, finding her hidey-place that she utilized whenever she wanted aloneness. All the Crows had their places of comfort aboard their ships, and Gretchen’s just happened to be deep in the bowels of her boat.

Aboard the Wolfsbane, Ivalio was in his (not-so) secret hiding place, at the very tip of the prow, just on the edge of falling off. His helmsman was guiding the ship, leaving the Crow to his own devices. He had a knife and a piece of driftwood in his hands and he was whittling away, trying to lose himself in the repetition of the movements. Nervous energy, and all that. He just wanted to find that calm again. Everything in the last seven years was thrown into a chaotic mess. Shadow had…

“Augh!” he grunted, hitting his head on the wood behind him. It was complicated.

Uora, for her own part in the story as it proceeded to twist upon itself, was in her quarters. Blood from both Pirate Lords was still painted across the bedsheets and floor and pretty much everywhere. She had all but pieced together what had happened in there, but that was no longer important. With Selim, Suleiman and Shadow all missing, she had to focus. There should be something she was able to do.

Blood magic, she could not do. She could never stoop so low as to use that magic to bind Shadow to return. Partly because most of Shadow’s blood was mixed with Suleiman’s in some way, and partly because she needed Shadow’s name to make the magic stick properly.

She didn’t have anything of Shadow’s to use, either. Shadow had no possessions that she had not directly or indirectly give to another, and Uora did not know enough about Suleiman to try and track him down, or his twin. Knowledge was power. She needed more knowledge to do anything worth note. And she had nowhere else to turn.

Pacing became her course of action as the ships began to sail. She trusted that her helmsman would know what to do. Uora had to think. She knew there should be something more to do, something she had missed, some secret she should remember but couldn’t for whatever reason. It was really starting to grate on her nerves, and her pacing grew ever more erratic. There was something, and she knew it. She [b]knew[/i] it and she just couldn’t remember it.

Aboard his ship, Jacques, the last of the Crows, looked out over the water and…remembered.

::::::::::::::

Tanae smiled at Akoola again, tilting her head to the side and arching her back just so. This one was rather fun to play with. Perhaps she would not kill him right away, then. He could live for a little while – long enough to amuse her the slightest bit more. Yes…yes.

She sidled closer.

“Well, milord, that entirely depends on your disposition.”

The mermaid blinked, batting her eyes at the Lord she had oh-so-close to her. And then, all at once, she was whirling away from him, walking towards the door with her back and shoulders tense. Something had changed in the span of a breath, and Tanae suddenly needed to be elsewhere. There was…no, there was no need to think of it now.

“We will discuss this later. The cestus shall be yours soon enough.”

And with that, she was gone, disappearing into the mists that seemed to follow the mermaids.

()()()()()()()()()()

Time was fluid, wasn’t it?

Contemplation as she stood on the yardarm of the main topsail. Yes.

Her head lolled back, nearly tipping her completely off balance to topple to the deck far below her. But she did not fall. Not then. Though there was a line in time where she did. There it was. Right there. Splintered off from this reality. She watched herself fall to pieces, her blood mingling with the blood of the men below. They were both dead and alive, stuck in a stasis that she had put them in. Was putting them in. Will put them in.

Time was fluid.

It rippled and twisted around her. It really did. Something was wrong, and her head was spinning. The water, so far down below, was black and inviting. Oblivion would stop the spinning, the dipping and twirling and the pain and misery and the knowing-not knowing-knowing and hating all at once. She would stop this incessant feeling. The chaos of a massacre wasn’t enough to quiet the crescendo in her head, the chaos of anything would not be enough. The whispering, and murmuring would not stop.

She almost did not realize that she was falling. The world had been tipping around her for so long that it was hard to separate the dizzying sense of falling with the startling reality that she was.

The water hit her hard, knocking all the air out of her lungs. The scarf that the mermaids had given her floated up over her face, letting her breathe. Not that she wanted to. Hells, she was surprised that she was not dead on impact. She had fallen so far, leaving a ghost ship behind her, where blood and gore were strewn haphazardly across the deck. But she was alive.

And the water was cold.

So cold.

Cold.

And dark too. Which was comfortable. The day-night had been too bright, too everything for her. But the deep water was black, and cold. She could not see, and though she knew she should fear for her safety, for how there could be sirens or mermaids or sharks or the monsters of the deep, she could not bring herself to care. Without moving her arms (they felt heavy and numb), she could not remove the scarf that was keeping her alive.

Her body was all but held still, supported by water. Really cold water. Not Caribbean water. No, it felt too icy to be Carib-water. She blinked, the salt water burning her eyes. She thought she could almost see someone in the water with her. Yeah, there was someone there. The further down, and the colder the water got, the clearer she could see him.

There was a nagging sense of familiarity under the raging current of thoughts that was in her head, the idea that she should know who this guy was, why he was there, and that somehow, some way, he was supposed to mean something. Memories flashed through her mind, those of her, of Darla, of her as Darla, of her as herself (whoever that was). But they did not make sense to her. There was no semblance of connectivity between the memories and who she was. She just could not resolve the memory and herself. It did not fit, like two puzzle pieces that should go together, but just don’t.

The man, the cold, the everything pressed closer to her. Bubbles fanned out around her face as he came closer to her. Or she to him? Either way, they were drawing close. She reached out to touch the man, forcing her hand through water that was cold enough to hurt her, gently touching the side of his face. He was cold too. She did not know if that was good or a bad thing. Memories flickered faster, trying to remind her of something about this guy. The vision of him faded for a moment, and she almost considered that she had potentially truly lost her mind.

More bubbles.

More memories.

But the person in the memories was not her, and never had been her, and never would be her because she…she was…

The cold numbed the pain this time, so she hardly flinched. It was insistent, this time, tugging at whatever sense of self she still had, trying to get her to pay attention to the man, to how she had done something important earlier how something had been said and it had needed to be re-said because he had never heard it. None of her actions, or her actions had ever been heard right. Everything she had done had said something, but the words were lost in a barrage of circumstance.

Her face was so close to his, suspended as she was in the water next to him. No. She was being dragged further down, down into the yawning abyss of blackness beneath the two of them. It almost looked like he was rising to the surface by contrast. The further she sank away from him into the wonderous numbing embrace of the cold, the higher above her he ascended. She smiled.

It was pretty. She could not see any light, below or beneath her, but she could see his radiance now, as the cold reached into her heart, stilling it, cutting off the breath in her throat. She let her scarf drift down her face, and breathed the cold salt water in. It was welcome by this point.

There was a concussive boom from far above her, but she felt it and heard it like any other time she had before. She tried to look up, to tilt her head towards where the sound had come from, but the water in her lungs and the cold and everything was just fine. Arms wrapped around her, she was vaguely aware of someone calling her, and all at once, she was back above the surface of the sea, a tail beating the water beneath her as Tanae tried to keep her up.

Lips (that tasted, as always of fish and salt) pressed desperately against hers, and she felt the water flow out of her lungs. The water was scalding hot against her chilled skin, but for the life of her, she could not remember why she had been cold. The Caribbean waters were warm, always warm. But she had been cold, and seen someone.

Tanae was yelling for someone, and she almost thought she had heard the names of the mermen she commanded, but that could not be. They were with Darla, weren’t they?

The cold seeped out of her, but she could not remember why or how she could have been cold. She was in the Caribbean, and had never left it. What was going on?

Tanae kept pressing her mouth to her skin, trying to get a reaction, but nothing happened. The body in her arms was just that, a body lost in…

“Left, Right, alert them both. I’m taking her. Tell them where, and tell whoever is available to hurry. He’ll be coming soon.”

The two mermen darted off into the deep waters. They knew who they were looking for and where to find them, leaving Tanae alone with an utterly unresponsive Pirate Lord. They had seen the ship she had been on, following her trail through the world, and it had been a wreck. Body parts had been strewn indiscriminately across the deck, and the three of them had easily pieced together who had done it. Shadow had been trained as a killer unmatched, a mindless drone made to serve the Hales, whose abilities with weapons and empty hands mangled anything she was sent to destroy.

Tanae readjusted her arms under Shadow’s body, trying to get the woman to react to her. Shadow had not even recoiled when she had been kissed, which had been typically Shadow’s reaction to that. When it was Tanae at least. Shadow…

“Oh, Shadow, come on,” Tanae said softly, nuzzling the woman’s neck, trying to get any sort of reaction. Shadow was still.

Slowly, Tanae began to swim. Not to Tortuga, nor to any port that many people even knew of, pirate or no, just to a place where Shadow would be safe until her body could come to terms with what had happened to her. Her movements were smooth and gentle, trying to keep from jostling the woman who was all but relying on her to swim smoothly.

She sang beneath her breath, doing her best to get everything together long enough to get Shadow out of the water and on dry land again. And wait for her father to come. Shadow needed her father. Shadow had needed her father for years now, but it had never been the right time. Marrana Sirene had jumped the gun in preparations to begin with, and had only half-finished the job before (like it seemed everyone did) abandoned Shadow to the world.

OOOOOOOOO

It was Right who sought out the Roxelana. Left went to seek Uora, but Right knew. Mermen knew, they could feel the currents of magic as they worked through the water, and Right knew he should find the Roxelana. The other brother was beyond them, far away in a place he could not find, but the ship, he could manage.

He cut through the water, and when he found the ship, he did not hesitate to shimmy up the hull of the massive thing, not caring for the pallid taste of dead magic that lay heavy on his tongue as he boarded the ship. Figuring it would be a good idea to make sure that the captain and the undead crew (ew) did not try and make a merman shiskebab right away, he was not overtly stealthy, announcing his presence with a heavy step and a polite cough.

“We found Shadow. She is…not well. I can lead you to her, if you wish. Or you can continue on,” Right muttered lowly as soon as the proper person was in view.

“Make your choice soon, she needs me.”

*************

Left, despite his misgivings of Uora and the magic that hovered around her, stole aboard the ship, ad like his twin, announced his presence with a heavy landing.

“Uora. We found her. She is unwell. Tanae is taking her to the Clutch. We fear for her. The Crows should be on alert.”

To her credit, the Wench of the Caribbean did not immediately dart off to inform the other Crows, and instead looked over the dripping wet man.

“You’re sure?”

“Tanae is. Shadow is coming undone.”

That was enough to get Uora moving. The Crows had to go – but she needed to talk to Cecilia first. After the Crows. First, after the Crows. Anyone watching could easily tell she was agitated, because she was making no effort to hide that fact. Uora and the Crows must decide. Would they stay with Cecilia and trust the mermaids to ensure that their Lord came back to herself, or would they go to her side, and leave Cecilia to fend for herself against an unknown foe?

++++++++++

Gods, it had taken moments.

Just moments.

She felt better.

And by better, she meant nothing. She felt nothing and it was glorious.

Her chair was a throne, her crown was lopsided on her head. Her shirt was gone, but that was because Tanae – or some other wench, she wasn’t paying attention, had pushed it up over her head so they could worship her admittedly rockin’ body.

Dully aware of flashes of pain as Tanae re-did the tattoo on her left arm, and when someone bit her shoulder until it bled, Shadow only barely held onto the idea of self-hood. The pain was good enough to bring her back into understanding that she was a thinking thing, something made of flesh and blood. She did bleed, which put her above a great may creatures like her. She was many thing, but living was still one of them.

It was not enough to push her over the edge again though. She made sure of that with alcohol and drugs (glorious drugs!) and sex and pain and whatever she could get near her. The room of indeterminate size (she could not be assed to figure out its dimensions) was absolutely packed with people in various stages of undress, intoxication and copulation. That helped. Everything was chaos and limbs and there was nothing cohesive anywhere. Her eyes did not have to focus on anything, there was nothing that could make her think.

Rational thought, anything complicated and hurtful was gone. Shadow was just that, a shadow, governing a shadowy dive bar in one of the most desolate ports somewhere in the Caribbean, her supplicants supplanted in gloriously stretched out positions. It was dimly lit, with open candles and candles in seaglass, with rope and netting and nets and all sorts of interesting things. Tanae had stopped tattooing her, and was instead pressing kisses to the inside of her wrist, her elbow, across her bleeding shoulder to her neck.

Shadow didn’t even resist, just reached out to pull Tanae into her lap and snog the mermaid soundly, not caring that she displaced another wench to do so. Her right hand cradled an obsidian-colored cup of something green and viscous and sweet, and she paused from ravishing the very ravishable mermaid to down the thick liquid.

“Haaaaa…”

Absinthe. She had forgotten it was absinthe. It was awesome.

What better way to forget things than to be with the Green Fairy?

There wasn’t one.

Shadow was finally, fucking finally, feeling better. Yeah, it was completely artificial and would fade with the buzz, with the pain, with the everything that the people were doing. But she was away from the other pirates, on land, removed from who she was by virtue of physical presence, and everything and everyone was there expressly to help her fall into a blissful state of only half-awareness so she could maybe find rest.

Right.

[Himeno]

The Rocinante steadily sailed the open vast sea, heading Northwest as the dubious compass pointed at. The manpower in her ship had significantly diminished no thanks to John Hale's massacre. There was so much they could do with the number they had now. She had to protect them. Like always. The Rocinante was her legacy and so was the crew. Her Father had given her to Calypso in order to save her life. He had given her future to someone else. The future he most likely wanted it would carry on his lineage. After all, that was the goal of every Pirate Lord: for their descendants to continue ruling their seas. But her future was much much bigger. She would not just rule over the Adriatic Sea, she would rule the entire ocean. The Sea would be hers.

Well, when you put it that way, that was a way better future than what she was to originally acquire. Hector Cervantes daughter, ruler of the Seven Seas; heir to the Goddess Calypso. Now that was giving honor and pride to her Father's name. Thinking about it, perhaps this was the best way she could honor him. There was one unclear thing though: how would she end up inheriting that future? How would she become Calypso's daughter? After all, she was only a quarter of a God. For all other purposes and means, Cecilia Cervantes was just a normal human.

What would Calypso do? Apparently it was some sort of process in which she had to be strong enough. Otherwise, why wait for that and not have done it when my Father had made the promise? From their conversation, only Calypso knew when she would be ready to fully inherit the Seas. But when would that time come? She was already twenty and five and not getting any younger. The Sea would not be her demise but that cannot be assure with other Pirates or even the Navy. Her life, was with everything else in this world, was never certain. She could lose it any any moment and then, what good would that promise had been for?

"Small Lady!"

The familiar voice of the Siren awoke her from her pool of thoughts.

"We have found your Suleiman."

Again referring to him as 'hers'? People seriously needed to stop that preposterous habit. It was unnerving. But more than unnerving, it was like pouring salt into an open wound. It was like a cruel joke, patronizing her. He was not hers. He would never be hers. Why mock her like that?

Where is he?

"In the Artic Sea. But we must hurry. The Sea will swallow him soon."

Wait! Can you find Shadow as well?

The Siren remain quiet for several seconds, as if she was contemplating how to answer her. Something was not right.

"We could but she has crossed a boundary that exceeds ours. Even if we did locate her, we could not take you there. I fear her fate must be left to another's hands."

The fuck did that meant? So she couldn't do anything for Shadow? What good would commanding sirens do if they had such quick limits? It bothered her even more than she was getting agitated over this woman who was nothing more than a brethren of hers. Even Pirate Lords did not get agitated over other Lords. It was not in them to do so. They were just comrades, nothing more, nothing less. It was rather irking to feel so upset over Shadow's situation.

Then again, there was just something about the woman that just compelled her to help her. Almost as if she could see herself in her; her previous self. The self that was desperately and silently crying to be saved from her own hell. Yes. That's what Cecilia felt from Shadow. The exact same thing.

Why can't you take me to her? Aren't you supposed to be at my disposal?

"We are Small Lady, but at the moment there are boundaries we cannot cross and much less yourself. At least, not until you inherit the Sea. Shadow has been taken to the Mermaids. And, unfortunately, you do not have authority over them. Therefor, our limits are where yours are."

Mermaids? So she could only command Sirens. Well, that wasn't entirely ideal. Then again, looking at it at a realistic perspective, it was already commendable enough that a mostly human female could control such dubious and ominous creatures as were sirens. Even so, she was not going to just give up without even trying. Even if it was futile, she still had to try. Of course, she had ulterior motives to want to try so hard.

If the Crows saw her intent on rescuing their Captain then they would be more inclined to be at her service if such a moment was needed. They would be slightly indebted to her. Even slightly, the Crows were formidable to have as allies. They could be useful to her in a future.

Cecilia Cervantes always, always secured her interests.

I don't care. Even if you can't take me to her, you go and try to protect her until we reach her.

"Small Lady, She Who Commands the Sea has done well to preserve the truce between sirens and mermaids. Although we sirens outrank the mermaids, we are not allowed to breach their borders unless Calypso herself commands us to. This has been established to preserve the peace in the Sea."

And I don't care. I will inherit the Sea eventually, right? I'll have the same authority as Calypso. Right now, protecting Shadow is my priority. I don't care if it causes war. There will be something much worse than a war between sirens and mermaids if that woman isn't rescued.

The Siren remained silent for another long interval, most likely trying to resist obeying her command. Cecilia understood her reluctance to this but this was hardly something worth worrying about when a Pirate Lord was on the brink of whatever the fuck it was. The Crows would not take kindly to having their Captain be swallowed up by mermaids or whatever. If this did indeed cause a problem between the two sea creatures then Cecilia will deal with that in due time. She was good at that kind of thing.

"Very well Small Lady. We are, after all, at your command. We shall do what we can though, forgive me for saying this, we shall do this as peacefully as possible If we feel a war will be imminent by our actions, we shall retreat."

The Siren immediately vanished, not allowing Cecilia to even so much respond. Stubborn things. Well, it was fortunate enough that they would be loyal to her. Sirens were a Pirates worse enemy when at sea. Among many other worse enemies. Cecilia aligned Rocinante alongside Ivalio's ship as he was the only visible Crow on deck.

"Señor Ivalio! I have news on Señor Suleiman's whereabouts! He is at the Artic Sea, but we must hurry or he might be lost forever."

For a moment she felt the urge to reveal her identity to him in order to tell him about Shadow. After all, that was the only way a Pirate could believe another one could have command over the sirens. She hesitated. Was it prudent to reveal this to a Crow?

There was no time for this.

"Also...I have sent sirens to locate Shadow and try to protect her. She is with mermaids. I will explain later why I have sirens at my disposal but just believe me that I am doing what I can to ensure your Captain's survival until we reach her and that we can trust the sirens. They would never betray the Sea's heir."

Ambiguous, giving off certain hints, but this was as much as she was willing to reveal to him for the time being. If he was perceptive enough, he would begin to machinate possible answers to this slight riddle.

[MYSTK]

Akoola didn't flinch when she drew close to him, but responded in kind. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, a dance with death but so far he seemed to be on the safe side of things. It felt good to have her naked form pressed so close to him and the carnal undercurrents of his person wanted to push things further but he wasn't ruled by his passions and knew now was not the time (not that there would necessarily be a "correct" time later). What was going on was strange but it was business and as of right not Akoola was getting what he wanted but the cost was known and yet unknown. Tanae had his allegiance but had chosen to remain coy on what that entailed. He watched her leave, teasing him with every movement but his mind was now racing and formulating a plan to ensure things didn't leave him in an uncertain or disadvantageous position. He reached the deck of the Nachtdrachen in time to see her disappear underneath the water.

"...Let's see how this plays out..."

Two wild spirited individuals, perhaps a little mad in their own right, coming together to do business would either end very well for both of them or one would consume the other and anyone foolish enough to get close to them as they wrestled for control and the upper-hand.

[Crowley]

The crystals forming inside and outside his body were hardening; the heart lowered its speed and every organ started to shut down. The skin now bluish had a sickening tinge, his lips were purple almost black and the shadows under his eyes were darker, the irreverent Mohawk Selim wore was now like a frozen spike. The cold waters pulled his body into the womb of the ice plaques, slowly but surely he will be part of the ice and the debt acquired by his father would be paid in full.

Suleiman dreamt.

It was a sad dream, people were dying, things were destroyed and everyone betrayed him. the nightmare of nightmares, it was the worst of the worst put together for his deviant pleasure.

But his feelings were now subdued by the ice and his mind suffered and agonized over each situation which repeated itself in his head relentlessly.

The shadow… Shadow…

It was blocking the sun…

Gone…

-----

Selim was starting to get used to the stench when there was a disturbance among the mob of zombie; something completely unnatural had landed on his deck. The Merman had been with Dar… Shadow, it was one of her body guards. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited while the crew started to drool over the scent of this fresh body; although their eyes were fixed on the prize they didn’t move and waited for Selim to say the word.

“We found Shadow. She is…not well. I can lead you to her, if you wish. Or you can continue on,” Right muttered lowly as soon as the proper person was in view.

“Make your choice soon, she needs me.”

Shadow, hurt? it was his fault.

The alien muscle stirred in the middle of his chest and he felt as if the Merman had punched him in the gut rather than deliver this terrible news. He found it hard to breath and something was painfully throbbing inside his chest. Unconsciously his right hand closed over his chest as if he could silence this new rebellious addition to his body. Is she ok? What happened? Tell me now or I’ll kill you!

Words that he’ll never utter.

Shadow had rejected him, she loved his brother why was this Merman here? Ah… yes –he didn’t know. Now, how to go about and tell him that he was not Suleiman without making it clear to the throng of ravenous zombies?

The Grimalking observed, its green eyes fixed on Selim and a half smile pulling those kitty lips. The cat knew that he was screwed. Either he acknowledged the Merman and follow him to see Shadow or refuse him and continued to rescue the man that she loved, the one that would actually rouse her from whatever pit of darkness she was in.

Selim made his choice, his face turning to stone and his eyes burning with a dull pain. “I shall find you and her after I rescue my brother. I made a vow and I cant brake it.”

[Aziraphale]

“So be it. The Lord Cervantes searches for your brother as well, guided by the compass Shadow gave to you. She travels with the Crows, for now, and they make good speed.”

Right watched Suleiman carefully, noticing how the magic in the air swirled and reacted to him. It was not pleasant.

“Gods speed, Lord Celebi. May the winds be kind.”

And with that said, Right was gone, vanishing back into the deep, dark waters.

+++++++++

Ivalio started when he was hailed by Cecilia. He had the presence of mind to not drop his knife or the piece he was working on, but he still stammered a greeting. Ineloquent, but he was the Captain of the Wolfsbane. He was not exactly meant to be the most well-spoken of the Crows.

“Oh, uh, thanks Cecilia. Uora already told us. Shadow will be taken care of, the mermaids have her. It will all be fine. We will sail with you, and Shadow will be returned to us when it is ti-”

“Ivalio!” Uora’s voice broke through the night, panicked and scared. “Shadow’s…Our Lord has fallen!”

He nearly fell off the boat.

No. Not so soon…

:::::::::::::::::::::

It had happened rather suddenly. Shadow had been shirtless and in the middle of a rather large pile of naked men and women and mermaids and whatever else had decided to show up to the party. There had been hands on her skin, flesh in her teeth and nothing to hear but sighs and groans of pleasure, and it had been glorious and all sorts of fun, and then there had been a BANG as the door opened, and suddenly, she was alone, everyone fleeing for their lives.

She had been stretched out on a table, she found, her head towards the front entrance, her pants undone and loose around her hips, with blooming purple bruises in vaguely mouth-shaped outlines across all of her exposed skin.

And she was alone now.

The rumble of madness kept creeping further and further up her neck, clawing at the last vestiges of everything she had held to herself, and when she saw the man who had come for her, Shadow let the madness consume her.

“Admiral,” she drawled around a tongue laced with venom and alcohol.

“Darla.”

He moved hesitantly, for all the rage she could feel burning outwards from him. He had not expected this, not expected her to be so lonely and open, with her arms flung wide and not moving to defend herself.

“Ah-ah. Shadow. Remember? You ordered your wife killed. And she died. True story.”

He looked at her oddly, then, drawing close to her. Shadow did not even flinch.

“Darla, I know my wife when I see her.”

“No, you didn’t. I was her for years an’ you never knew,” came the tart response.

Shadow rolled unsteadily off the table, dropping to her knees. She stood slowly, rocking back on her heels as all of the everything she had imbibed caught up with her.

“Darla, please. I know it is you. Where is Shadow. I need her.”

Shadow frowned at that, her face twisting into a snarl. This hurt more than anything else had, this bandied words between the man she had loved desperately and given up, and her sanity dragged itself back into existence. Clarity broke through the haze of drugs and alcohol, and Shadow hated it. She knew what she had done, what he had done, and what he planned to do. He could see the madness in her, he could see that ravages of abuse, could see the scars and the wounds and the bleeding romantic heart that beat against it all, but he did not see Shadow.

“I am Shadow.”

“No, you are not.”

“YES I AM,” she howled at him, throwing a chair at the Admiral of the fleet that was attempting to destroy her and the Pirates like her.

“Darla, stop. Please. Where is Shadow. I need her magic to finish off my mission,” he tried to say soothingly. His wife had gone crazy. Absolute insanity danced in the pools of her brown eyes, burned at the tender flesh he had loved so well, and he was almost sorry for what had to be done.

When he drew the sword, he watched as her eyes fixated on it. Without bothering to fix her pants that were moments from falling about her ankles, Shadow regarded the Admiral she had loved as anyone would regard a piece of shit on their shoes.

“I am Shadow. I have no magic. Go away.”

He lunges for her, the tip of the sword centered on her heart, rage twisting his face once again as he gives in to the tragedy that has infected him, and Shadow darts out of his path. She bears no weaponry, she has nothing to defend herself with, and she does not bother to try and reach for anything.

She does, however, cinch her pants back around her waist. She was ready for this.

The madness would consume her, and hopefully, him as well, and she would have peace and nothing would disturb her.

The fight was not long in completion.

Blood spread out in a beautiful red arc around her, seeping out of wounds that no one could hope to close – wounds she was not entirely sure that he had inflicted, but were there nonetheless. He stood over her, blood-red sword in hand, a frown flitting across his face.

He knelt and gently kissed her, and she died.

And knew peace.

0000000000

Uora had first known something was wrong when she felt the thrum of magic center on her boat. Old magic, magic that John had put in place to ensure that in case the Lord Caribbean fell, the Piece of Eight he (or she) bore returned home. Darla (or Shadow) had expanded the magic to include a few precious pieces of important metal. Keeper and Seeker, two of the oldest magical relics that both Darla and Shadow had agreed were perfectly fitting for them.

She ran to her rooms, the same room she had fostered Suleiman and Shadow in earlier, the same room she had found the aftermath of...whatever they had gotten up to strewn about haphazardly, and there, sitting on the table, the lone table where she had placed a bowl of water and the ruined towels from cleaning their wounds, were the harbingers of the passing of their Lord.

Keeper lay flat across the table, and crossed over it, the much smaller Seeker. In the crook of the crossed blades lay the Piece of Eight Darla and Shadow had shared.

Uora bolted for the cabinet where she stored her herbs, hurrying to scry for the information that she already had staring at her. Her tears would not fall – they could not disturb the waters she had been through hell to obtain, lest they distort the image that she sought. The herbs were thrown across the surface of the water, and were quickly absorbed into it. She leaned down over the bowl, her breath catching in her throat as she searched for any sign of their Lord.

But there was nothing to see but blackness.

Shadow was…gone…

The Crows had already been alerted to the fact that something was wrong, but it had…there had never been an indication that it was bad enough to cause her to fall. Something terrible had happened, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Uora went to gather her crew, calling out the shame of the Crows to the night.

“Our Lord has fallen!”

None of them had expected it to hurt so much.

Uora looked to Cecilia, as did the rest of the Crows. They would see this mission through, see through the rescue of the one Lord Cecilia desired to save, and then…then they would decide who would rule the Caribbean in Shadow’s place.

“Command us, Lord Cervantes. We shall follow you to the ends of the earth,” Jacques said, speaking up for the first time since this whole great drama had begun.

------------

It had not felt good to do what she had done.

To use Darla, bind her to a body that was already breaking and strained and force her to dance through the movements of life for a few days.

But Shadow had had her own autonomy, and had done many things in her own name throughout the years. Darla had never realized it, and Shadow had taken advantage of it. Of course she had. She knew who she was, she knew who her father was, and though she had foisted her worries and dramas off on Darla and had watched from the shadows (how fitting) as things had escalated, conflated, and then blown up. She should feel bad, but she did not feel much of anything.

Out of the shadows of the room where she had watched, rather interested, really, as Darla-Shadow and Suleiman-Selim struggled through the curse of fate and destiny, Shadow appeared. Now the Caribbean was truly hers, and she knew what she had to do. Her magics were no small thing, not now, not anymore. Her father had not found her, nor indeed, not found Darla who was made to act as Shadow, and that was by design. It was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

Keeper and Seeker slid home into the sheaths she wore on the well-worn leather belt that had only ever been hers. Her eyes were dark green, and outlined in even darker makeup. Shadow was dressed in the Blacks she had had made for herself, under the radar, without the knowledge of her crew or anyone. They were cut close to her skin, and moved across her body like silk. Armor, yes, but first and foremost, cloaking. Magically-imbued to make her purposefully invisible when she wanted to be, more than her natural training had allowed, it could make her selectively invisible. If she wanted to be seen by one person and not others, that was what would happen.

Her eyes were sad as she looked to the door, where she knew that her Crows were mourning her loss. She had to keep them safe and the other Lords as well. They would be safer if she was dead, vanished like the morning fog under the noontime sun. She would come back. Shadow always came back.

Her fingers ghosted over the familiar Piece of Eight that had adorned her hair for years.

Half of what she had made Darla tell Suleiman and Selim was true. Yes, the Hales had used her – abused her. John Hale was a monster, through and through, and had turned on the girl who had looked so much like he darling, daring Darla more than once. Darla was not clean of any sort of wrongdoing either, but Shadow had forgiven her.

Shadow could not, however, forgive the last command.

And she had not, and that had been what had condemned Darla to being a zombie for a few days as Shadow watched the world work against her. The secret upon “revelation” had triggered many an interesting thing that would have spelled disaster for Shadow herself had it truly been her that had undergone it.

It was interesting to watch, to feel Darla descend into the madness that should have been hers, to watch, cloaked in darkness as the information of “her” pain had spread.

And it hurt to know that they were hurt in her “death”.

But this was necessary. Truly. It was. There would be no peace for her Crows, or for her friends if they knew her to be alive. She must die, and do her work in death to be effective. She would check first on Selim, and then go for the kills she knew she must make.

All at once, magic surged around her, enough to alert Uora as to the fact that there was some manner of shenanigans going on, but before the Crow could rush back into the room, Shadow was gone. She had elsewhere to be.

As the Admiral had said, her magic was needed elsewhere. She just prayed that the Crows would be far away from the danger when it finally struck. Everything that led up to this moment was just foreplay for the main event. The dramas, the deaths, the battles, all of them were small in comparison to what would be coming for them soon.

Shadow would protect them all.

[Crowley]

So be it

Such a simple thing but it felt like a Death Sentence. He had uttered this phrase many times and the outcome had always been horrorific –not for him, but for the unfortunate souls that had been on the receiving end. Now he knew how the y felt. Despair pretty much described what he felt but he masked it well with Suleiman’s iron will and nodded to the Merman before he disappeared over the railing. It was done.

It didn’t matter who was trying to find Suleiman, nobody would be able to claim him, this was a family matter -a blood matter. His father had stolen from the Artic so he had to pay in kind and this was the only way.

He turned his back on the Zombie crew and went to the Helm there he dictated his instructions; the boat started to move fast, the Roxelana was indeed a fast ship, it traversed the waters so fast they would reach cold waters in no time; and then it would be time to do what he was meant to do from the time he was born.

Returning to the sea would be like sleeping he mused, no more pain. He was grateful for that, the pain he felt crushing his chest would ease, he was not used to this or feel anything for anyone and he was already exhausted. He regretted that in saving Suleiman he would leave him with one last curse, another debt, this one to either pay or bypass. He could just not have offspring or he could just impregnate an anonymous girl and leave her to fend for herself but somehow Selim couldn’t see Suleiman doing that. It was a bitter curse, the house of Celebi would perish and it was his doing.

Selim turned his back on his men and fixed his gray steele eyes on the sea which was no longer the beautiful cerulean shade of the Caribbean but more of a gray shade that foretold the approaching of the cold seas. He had to save his brother and with this save Shadow nothing else mattered anymore.

---

The cold air swept his inky black hair off his face; he knew he was in the right place when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A cold clammy hand pressed his shoulder.

“I came to pay,” he started with absolute resolution. “I am not supposed to exist and I am the half that should’ve never had been separated from his soul.”
He didn’t turn to face the gelid face; he’d rather do this quick and get it over with.

“I am Suleiman Selim Celebi, first born of the Celebi clan and only son …”

His voice faltered as he uttered the words his body had started to crumble. He heard a female voice, she was saying something about going back into the light and then nothingness...

---

Suleiman lay on his back, he was unsure as to where he was, his eyes barely opened and the light hurt, his head hurt –hell his whole fucking body hurt! It was as if he had been drunk for ages and now everything moved around him, the sky wouldn’t stay still nor the ground beneath… was it the ground?

[Aziraphale]

Take me to him.

That one is gone. Only his brother…remains.

…Oh…

Then take me there.

It is too far.

Then let him know I live. I could not…it would not be fitting. Someone should believe. One person. Once.

Believe. Believe in Shadow.

Yes, tell him that. Please. Someone should.

As you say.

Shadow appeared out of the night, cloaked in a cape of feathers on an island draped in fog. She let her cloak fall to the ground, where it vanished into ash and dust. Her eyes, now permanently dark green were only half-open. This ground was sacred, this ground was old, this island was home.

The aerie she had sent with a missive to Suleiman left her, to seek the man and whisper in his ear. If it failed, then Shadow would know the fates were truly aligned against her. But then, when were they not? Sighing mightily, Shadow brushed some invisible mites of dust off her pants.

This had to be done. She had to do this.

The knowledge did not make her stomach unclench, or her nerves quiet. She was Shadow, yes. She was a killer, an assassin, a weapon in the hands of others. She was also a daughter. His daughter. She had known for a while, and had known how to hide herself while she masqueraded as Darla. It would not really behoove her to have him show up on deck one day and declare himself her father, now would it?

But here she was now.

She was here and not at all ready, but she had to be. This needed to be over quickly so she could go do what actually had to be done, instead of trying to make amends with her not-at-all human father in the hopes that he would at least try and help her.

Because she had seen what had happened to Darla-As-Shadow, and Shadow knew that if she did not take steps to prevent that, the same would happen to her. As cavalier about things as she was, Shadow did not want to die, and she wanted to make sure that she made it as hard as possible for her to die. The Ghede were one layer of protection, but there was so much more that could be done. And she needed her father for that.

What use was immortality if you went insane before you could truly enjoy it?

()()()()()()()()()()()

“…Your cestus, Akoola.”

Tanae was back, eyes downcast, and fully clothed. She threw the gauntlet on the nearest raised flat surface and turned her head away from the Lord. Her throat was tight. She had been cowardly. She had been betrayed and mislead. She had…she hurt.

“Lord Shadow has…died. I sail with you, at your side, until such a time when I consider your debt repaid.”

[Crowley]

The sun was strong, its rays pouring over the body dressed in rags that lay on top of a wooden board that bear the name “Roxelana”. The deal was done and the ship had gone back to the depths of the Caribbean, all of it but a piece of wood where Selim had stood waiting for his fate to arrive. The body stirred moaning with thirst and pain but the eyes were closed and the mind adrift.

My dearest son, my only son, do you understand how this happened to us? I hope you do understand because I have little time to talk to you. I was a slave from the beginning… and I couldn’t break free, my words had no value no weight with your father. He desired so many things but greed is not a good adviser. His wrong doing and my compliance brought this upon our heads.

You were incomplete because your other half had taken an actual physical form –a terrible one but you all the same. Yes, your name is Suleiman Selim and you are an only child. This terrible magic took everything cold, unforgiving and brutal in you and shaped it into another body which was birthed right behind you. I told you so many times that you had to love your brother as you love yourself because he was you and you were him. That is why I loved him and forgave him every time he did something terrible, because he was a part of you working against us.

Selim is now back where he belongs, inside you and now you have to deal with that side of you and also with the physical consequences he left behind. He was the terror of the oceans and his dealings with dark things will hunt you ‘till the end of your days but your life is now your own and your soul is complete.

I love you… my son…

His eyes snapped open and the glare of the sun made him wince, his head was heavy and it hurt, he rolled on his back and try to push himself up but it was impossible; he lay there face down waiting to get his bearings when he heard a flutter of wings. His eyes followed the winged creature which approached dangerously close and started to whisper in his ear.

The news did not sit well.

There was turmoil inside of him something so alien and difficult that left him panting and weary. He felt that he should be happy that Shadow had survived, he should move and find her but there was also a little voice in his head asking questions. He shook his head and rouse from the facedown posture, he rubbed his face with both hands and started to look around; he was roughly near a small island, the water was not warm and the color was not that of the Caribbean so he assumed that it had to be the Golf of St. Lawrence, the island nearby did not look inviting but it was land. He started to row with his arms.

A pair of green eyes followed the bobbling movements of the raft and the man on top it, among the trees on the island nothing else was seen, not even birds. Just a pair of green orbs following Suleiman’s every movement.

[Himeno]

Uora's news of Shadow's death felt like someone had just dumped a cold bucket of water on her. Especially on the Crows. Their faces very much expressed that and so much more. It was full of utter shock but mostly pain. A lot of pain. Sadness and the empty feeling of losing something important in your life. Regret, of not having done anything to prevent it despite knowing that nothing could have been done anyway. It was strange though. For some reason, she felt that sudden stabbing pain. It was wrong. This was wrong. Shadow dying was wrong. It was not supposed to happen. It infuriated her.

Damn Sirens. The fuck did they do...Sirens!!!

"You called, Small Lady?"

Why the fuck has Shadow died? I told you to protect her by any means necessary.

She had promised Ivalio the Sirens would ensure Shadow's survival. She had promised. And she had failed. Failing always left an angry and bitter taste. Failing a promise meant lying. She had lied. And lying reminded her of John Hale. Yes. Failing was a horrid bitter feeling.

"We actually managed to reach her location however when we arrived she was no longer there."

What do you mean 'no longer there'?

"As you hear it, Small Lady. We searched for her but she was no longer with the mermaids. We did not sense her physical presence with them. There was nothing we could do. Forgive us Small Lady."

She wasn't with the mermaids? Then where? What happened to her? Why did she died? How did she died? Why...why did it all felt so wrong...? Dammit. Dammit all to hell. Cecilia balled her hands into fists; her nails digging into her skin. The Crows were watching her. Pained-filled eyes boring straight into hers, awaiting her command. Her command....Command the Crows. Should she say something about Shadow? Express her condolences? Tell them what she had tried to do for her?

No.

They wouldn't want to hear any of it now.

Not for now.

Small Lady! You must hurry to your Suleiman!

"We...we will head for the Artic, to find Señor Suleiman."

It felt like commanding them had brought the tragedy. She couldn't help but feel partly responsible for Shadow's death. If they had gone on their own with the compass to find her, they would have. They would have arrived on time. Instead, she had dragged them along with her to first find Suleiman and then Shadow.

Did they blame her for her death?

Death...

Death...

So much death...

It hurt.

Everything about it hurt.

Rocinante steadily continued its course Northwest, heading to Suleiman's location. Beside and behind followed the Crows' respective vessels. Cecilia's blue eyes aimlessly gazed straight into the now gray horizon. They looked empty. She saw the horizon, but she wasn't looking at it. No. What she looked at was the late Shadow and Suleiman. What her heart desired and what that very desire had caused. A Pirate had an intimate relationship with death. The pirate who said otherwise was a blasphemous joke. Even so, Cecilia felt like her entire life was circled around deaths.

And now deaths of enemies and plunder's. Deaths of those who were close to her. Hell, even before becoming a pirate death had made its way into her life. Death was all she knew. It was about time she got used to it, right?

She hadn't.

"Ivalio..." She mindlessly called out to him, not even realizing that his vessel was actually sailing beside hers. It was the first name that had entered her mind. Out of all the people in her acquaintance, he was the one she felt most at ease with.

"...I'm sorry."

Nothing could be done to reverse this. She would forever feel regret but that would be her curse. And she would have to learn to live with it. Suleiman was still alive. She had to focus on saving what she could save. Not wishing to save what was already lost. Besides, part of her told her that if she allowed the pain and regret prevent her from finding Suleiman with the Crows, Shadow would never forgive her and would forever haunt her.

"I will stay strong as I command the Crows, for now. I will do whatever it takes to find Suleiman. I will risk everything for it."

She would honor Shadow's wishes.

It was the least she could do.

[Aziraphale]

Would you kill to save a life?

She panted harshly, trying to draw air into a ruined body. Blood painted the ground underneath her body, and her clothing had been ripped to shreds.

“Focus!”

She wanted to scream, but her throat had been torn to shreds. She wanted to move, but her spinal cord was lying off in the distance. Her vision swam with black dots and grayed-out apparitions. She was spread out on the ground like some sort of pagan sacrifice, her body flayed and her mind only just there. Only just. Inches from the edge, inches from falling into the welcoming, warm abyss, inches from –

“Focus.”

Struggling to even keep herself aware, she reached for her birthright, reached for the very thing that ached to consume her, reached and held her ground all at once.

Her first breath of air seared her lungs with its intensity. She coughed, and coughed and coughed, rolling onto her side as soon as she could feel her toes again, curling up as she tried to regain some sort of equilibrium. The madness was creeping up on her, she could feel it. It was as real as her now-whole body, as real as her fingers and toes, as real as anything else, and it was worming into her mind.

Shakily, she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, her blood still dripping from her body, though now it was not flowing, just dripping. She was dizzy. Dizzy and sick and insane and it was all his doing.

But she had asked. She had asked and her Father had obliged. She needed to know. She had to be able to do this, so she could save them. She had to save them. To protect them. She was the Pirate Lord, even if her Piece of Eight had gone missing, she had to make sure they were safe. Ivalio, Gretchen, Uora and Jacques had sworn themselves to her and they were her friends. She owed them.

The bonds of kinship ran deep. She loved her friends, she owed them so much, and even though she knew that they had been instruments of her abuse in the past, they were faithful and had accepted her. She needed to get back to them.

She had to see Suleiman again. She had to touch him one last time. There was so much unsaid between them and she wanted to tell him. She had to. To hold him close, to kiss him hard enough to steal his breath away, to consume his heart like he had stolen hers, she craved his presence and couldn’t…bear the thought of leaving him behind with at least trying to tell him how she felt. It was a consuming desire that burned hot in her chest and it was pleasure-pain and all she wanted to feel.

Would you kill to prove you’re right?

Tears fell to the ground, staining the rocks beneath her face. She hurt. She hurt so badly. Her heart felt like it was going to burst at the memory of Suleiman and Selim. Even Selim.

She had to get up. She had to get up and continue this. It had been years since she had seen them, but time passed oddly on her Father’s island. She knew the moment she left it would be as if no time at all had passed. He had made that very clear. It was why he looked the same age as her. It was why magic had done all those wonky things to her, why her body seemed at odds with her mind, it explained a lot.

But it had been years for her.

Years and years and years.

Lifetimes, even.

She had not seen her friends in so long. She missed them desperately, she wanted to see them again. She wanted Suleiman with her. She wanted him so bad. Her stomach clenched at the thought and her elbows nearly buckled with the intensity. She wanted to see his face again. She wanted him to be with her again.

Struggling to get back onto her feet, she stood and faced her father.

“Again?”

Her voice was not tremulous, it did not shake or quiver, despite the turmoil within her.

“It is dinner time, daughter mine. Come, fix your clothing and we shall go to supper.”

“Yes, Father.”

Turning and twisting her torso, she tried to get her body to snap properly back into place. Her magic was small compared to her father’s, though coming back from near-death was something rather fun to be able to do. Her skin was whole, if not tinged the slightest bit red from drying blood, beneath the shredded remains of another shirt. Fixing the shirt was a whole hell of a lot more difficult than fixing herself.

But she had an eternity of infinity to perfect these new skills of hers. Then she could find her friends again and make sure they were okay after she made sure they would stay safe.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Cecilia,” Ivalio said slowly. What does someone say after what had happened?

“Please. Just…do what you think is best. Follow the Compass truly, and guide us. We will follow you faithfully. Please,” he said.

He did not know why he was begging her, but he needed something. Something. Everything hurt.

“Trust yourself, Cecilia. We trust you.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“You gave your life for his twice.”

“Once was as Darla, and once was Darla as a proxy.”

“It was your blood in both instances. What is this one to you?”

“It was him only once, and his brother, the other time.”

“You thought it was him, both times. I am merely interested in the man my daughter seemed to have picked out for himself. I know much of the Celebi family lineage, so I-”

She put her fork down with just the slightest bit too much force and the clatter got her father to look at her. Their eyes looked the same – the same deep, dark green, even though his were brightened with laughter and hers were dark with anger.

“Dad,” she chided, frowning at the man who had had a hand in conceiving, but not raising her. “Let it go.”

He laughed at her, and then – “Finish your vegetables, or no dessert.”

The sound she made was equal parts frustration and good humor.

[MYSTK]

Akoola smiled at the item. The two cestus of Yolei Dryton were sought after items for the fabled abilities they granted their wearer and having both of them meant that should the time come he had two very valuable bargaining chips. Until that time arrived however these two weapons would help keep him alive. He picked up the item and then let his brown eyes wander over to Tanae. The female that stood in front of him was far cry from the one he had had an earlier dealing with. For one she was fully clothed (not that it should have been a huge surprise that mermaid wore clothes if wanted) and two, the wild unpredictability and slight madness had all been swallowed on her apparent deep sense of loss.

“Lord Shadow has…died. I sail with you, at your side, until such a time when I consider your debt repaid.”

The news she brought wasn't good. A Pirate Lord was dead which meant someone had either decided to try and take her position or the Navy had managed to complete a task they had been trying to do for years. With other Lords missing it meant that they needed all the help they could muster. He had told his men to make sure the ship followed the Crows and Cecilia, getting caught out on the seas alone at the this point would only spell danger. The five other ships of his elite followed at a distance. His mind began to formulate plans for the journey ahead but then the broken spirited mermaid in front of him put a stop to all of that. As it stood she was part of his crew in a strange way which meant that he had to ensure she was okay.

He motioned for her to sit down at the table.

"Sit, since you'll be at my side I guess this home to you on top of wherever it is you live in the sea." He spoke in soft tones, made to comfort and make her feel welcome.

He disappeared with the cestus into his bedroom before coming out with a quilt and several large, plush cushions. He placed them in a large and wide hammock which was placed near and large shelf of books.

"You can stay in my room for now until we sort something else out. Make yourself comfortable."

Honestly, he had never even thought of the notion of having a mermaid on board his ship so he wasn't even sure if she'd stay or not. Part of him was excited but something in him was pained to the one who had been so intrigued by seem a shell of herself. Still, her display of pain over the loss of the dear one revealed to him the humanity that she possessed. It was a powerful insight to have.

Some fruit and dried, spiced meat lay in two separate bowls on the table as did a full bottle of wine.

"...Is there anything you need?"

He asked out genuine interest for his new room-share.