By: Bryant R. Haake, Honors College, Presidential Honors Student, English Major
Jacob didn’t sleep well. In fact, he barely slept, only nodding off for a moment, and waking another to see the moon had moved less than an inch across the sky. After a few hours of tossing and turning, he got up and left the cave, choosing to stand by the water and look out at the town. The eerie green glow was gone now, the shades back to their eternal rest. The moon was full though, and cast its own glow across the ruins.
The cave they had found was set in the side of a small cliff which led down quickly into the bog, forming part of the bowl shape of the island, holding a soup of sloshing algae and mud and bad luck. The chirp of birds rang through the evening hours, mixing into the waves in a lovely melody of natural beauty. Jacob latched a tentacle onto a tree on the clifftop and pulled himself up, settling in against the tree to take in the beauty of the landscape. For once, his back was turned to the sea.
“Any special insights you want to ruin the moment with, Ren?” Jacob asked the air.
Nothing insightful tonight, Jacobson, Ren retorted. I could tell you a story though, if you would like. I have many.
Jacob weighed his options for a moment before nodding. “Aye, let’s hear one.” He felt like a little kid being tucked into bed by their parents, ready for their goodnight kiss on the cheek and a cool glass of water for hydration’s sake.
I’ve been to this island before, Ren began. It was long ago, before I was trapped and before it was known as Brokenbeaux. In fact, there was no civilization for miles. The shape of the island is no accident; instead, it was shaped by Scylla to be like this, perfect as a trap for anyone who dared to hope for shelter at a lost island.
“Which one is Scylla again?” Jacob asked.
The fear of being lost at sea, my boy, something which humans fear almost as much as their vessel being destroyed. He said that part a little smugly. Anyhow, I used to make frequent stops here. It was the perfect place to come to land and take a break from wrecking ships. Plus, Scylla’s inhabitance of this place certainly helped my desire to come.
“You and her were a thing?”
I had… flings, as you mortals would say, with many of the other monsters. Immortality can be lonesome, and we were all too busy to have much more than temporary relations with each other. I knew Scylla and Apophis the best, and I even became familiar with Jormungandr when she realized how amiable I could be, despite my terrifying visage and tendency to destroy mortal ships.
“You had… relations with one of the gods?” Jacob asked confusedly. “And, if you knew Apophis the best, why do you think so poorly of her now?”
I will tell you if you will shut your mouth for more than ten seconds at a time and let me speak, please. Thank you. As I was saying, I frequented this island, mostly for Scylla’s company, but also just to rest my body. We never told you mortals this, but we monsters all have human forms, as do the so-called gods you worship. We rarely choose to use them of course, but I will admit that mine was rather comfortable. Scylla and I would talk for hours, at first talking through the dark of the night, but eventually becoming closer as we learned how to make fire. We were joined by others only a handful of times, and the last time was the worst.
I had relations with both Apophis and Scylla, as I said, but neither were aware of this. Due to our natures, I did not think it necessary to tell either. Mostly, we just talked anyhow, something we considered intimate, at least more so than you mortals do. It was during a talk with Scylla one day that Apophis slithered onto these shores, becoming human to scold me. “I thought you were mine,” she said. “I thought we were special.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I know this sounds terrible to you — don’t hide it; I can feel your emotions — but as I said, when you live as long as I have, these things tend to become less of a problem for most, though apparently Apophis thought otherwise.
Scylla rose to defend me, but Apophis was fast. She struck at my throat, barely missing as Scylla became monstrous to block the blow. Scylla told me to run, swim away as fast as I could. We couldn’t kill each other — not permanently — but despite our horrific natures, we do not want to see this world crumble, and with a battle between three Monsters, there would have been disastrous consequences.
I did as told, running to the ocean and once more becoming Kraken. I am not the fastest of the Monsters, but I do hide well, even given my size. I will teach you how one day, but that’s a lesson for another time. I heard the fight rage above. Neither Scylla nor Apophis are as large as I, and I do not believe Apophis ever became serpent in their fight. Instead, she stayed on the defensive. I found later that she had chopped off the heads of many of Scylla’s snakes, which later grew into the basilisks that now live here and corrupt the land.
“So that’s how they got here,” Jacob muttered. “I didn’t even think they were sea creatures.”
To an extent, they are not, Ren replied. However, in the ways which matter to us Monsters, they certainly are. After their battle, which came to an inconclusive draw, Apophis left, vowing to find me and wound me so badly that I would never swim these seas again. Scylla had held her own, and her snakes would grow back, but she was also furious with me. I know not whether she still holds resentment for me now, but I do know that she is one of the few of us Monsters who was not entrapped.
“Do you think she is still here?” Jacob asked, glancing around warily.
Not at all. She would have killed you already for merely stepping foot here. My power is not easily masked from the other Monsters. You may call me the King of Monsters, but in truth I am no stronger than some of the others; rather, they merely have different skill sets which terrify mortals in their own unique ways.
Jacob waited a moment before speaking. “That was… quite the story, Ren. Did it really never come up that you had… flings with other Monsters?”
Aye, it never seemed important to me. It was for companionship and boredom from my own perspective, but I can see now how my actions hurt them both. Though I know I may never be forgiven, I do wish to one day offer my apologies to them both.
Jacob sat up suddenly. “You’re the reason Apophis chose Georgiana as her host, aren’t you?”
It is possible, but given that I cannot sense Georgiana’s power from where you are currently, I think it would be unlikely. I know not how nor why Apophis chose Georgiana as her host, but whatever reason could be good or bad. For me, though, if you intend to continue travelling with her, it could be very bad.
“I do intend to stay by her,” Jacob said, “especially after tonight. I don’t think I could leave her in good faith after what happened… with her father and all, I mean.”
Oh, I’m sure there isn’t any other reason, Jacobson. Jacob could sense the smirk, even without a face to place it on.
“Har har, laugh it up, wise guy.” Jacob sighed. “Can you hear what I think?”
No, but as I said, I can read your emotions.
“Hmph.” Jacob sat in silence, trying to find the beauty in the landscape he had seen so clearly earlier. Ren’s story had seemingly tainted the land, making it less natural and more terrifying, like a human turned into a corpse; the similarities were there, but they were marred by imperfections, in perspective if not in appearance. He thought about asking Ren for advice, but considering the Kraken’s record with women even of his own kind, he didn’t think Ren’s advice would be very well-suited to whatever it was he was feeling.
The land is still beautiful, Jacobson, even if you know its origins.
Jacob thought Ren had told the truth about not reading his mind, but he still wasn’t sure he could trust the Kraken. Heck, he didn’t even know if he could trust himself if Ren could just take over his tentacles whenever he wanted to.
“Alright, no more questions,” Jacob said, more to quiet his mind than anything else. “I’m going to try and sleep. Wish me luck.”
Goodnight, Jacobson. Rest well.
Jacob awoke to the sound of yelling.
“Squid boy, get yer lily-livered butt back to this cave right now, or so help me I’ll gut you like the fish you are!”
“Well, I guess we’re back to this Crimson,” Jacob muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “A shame, too. For once, I didn’t hate being near her.” He cupped a hand at his mouth as he rose against the tree and yelled, “Coming!” so Crimson and Georgiana could hear him.
Jacob once again gripped the tree with his tentacle and lowered himself from the clifftop back down to the cave. There he was met by Crimson glaring daggers at him.
“You’re not making this whole getting along with ye thing easy, boy,” Crimson snarled. “Don’t run off on us like that. You nearly gave the girl a heart attack, and…” the implication was clear; Crimson had also been worried. “Just, come on back inside.” Crimson about-faced and marched back into the cave, gathered a small bucket with blood and guts, and turned back to the sea, tossing some of it into the water before diving in. As she fell, she gained more shark features than he had ever seen her use. He’d heard she could technically go full shark, but no one had actually seen her do so.
Jacob went back inside, surveying their small alcove. One of them had gotten a small fire going, and Georgiana was sitting beside it still wrapped in Jacob’s fancy oversized sailor’s coat. She glanced at him and gave a meek smile, turning back to the fire to warm her hands and face. Jacob sat down next to her.
“Hey, I… didn’t mean to worry you. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all, and wanted to see the cliff, and…” he stopped as she turned back to him. Her face was smeared with dirt and soot from the fire, accenting her small smile, genuine for the first time in a few days.
“I’m okay, Jakey. You didn’t worry me. It was her-” she jerked her head at the bloody sea, “-who was worried. I knew you wouldn’t leave us, or get eaten, or anything like that.” She turned back to the fire. “Plus, if you had, I would’ve tracked down your shade and forced you to stay with us.” She giggled a little at her own joke, surprising Jacob.
“You seem… oddly calm about yesterday. Are you okay?”
Georgiana stayed silent, her smile wavering before solidifying once more as she nodded. “Yes. Yeah, I think I’m okay. It just… freaked me out, is all.” She laid her head on Jacob’s shoulder, bending her neck a bit more to reach down. “Thanks for being there. Not leaving, I mean, and being my friend.”
Jacob nodded, looking outside the cave at the water to hide his face. “Of course, Georgie. I’m not leaving.” He turned back and saw that she was asleep again. Her black hair, neatly tied into thin cords of thick follicles, bounced along his lap with every small movement she made. It was a fancy style only those with money, power, or a threatening presence could afford to buy, and Jacob knew it had been her only expense as the town’s resident “rich girl.” She claimed there wasn’t anything to it, and that she just liked the style. Jacob didn’t know enough about hair to deny it.
Crimson walked in carrying a large marlin. She plopped it down on the cave floor and surveyed her work: a large bite had been taken from its head, and a few more gashes had opened on its side. The fish was deader than a doornail.
“Breakfast, chump,” Crimson said, sitting back and taking out a knife to start flaying the beast of a fish. “Ye ever cooked before?”
“I tried once,” Jacob replied, keeping his voice low and movements to a minimum. “Saltyboots didn’t like it much when I was in the kitchen with him. He admitted I didn’t do half bad, but he didn’t let me try again ‘cause he likes to be alone while cooking. You?”
“Aye,” Crimson said, expertly working the knife up and down the marlin’s side and back. “Before I was a privateer, I was a maid for this rich nobleman.” Slice. “He was a rude landlubber, I’ll tell you.” Slice. “Ne’er so much as thanked us for everything we maids did in that big fancy house of his.” Slice. “I did most of the cooking, so I saw him the least,” slice, “but rumor had it he used to beat the others if he found dust.” Slice, slice, slice. Scraaape.
“Wow.” Scrape, slice, slice. “Why’re you being so forward with your life?”
“My old life is just another tale now, squidy.” Slice. “It means nothing to me. I don’t keep up with anyone, nor do I care to see any of them again. That rich guy’s dead anyhow.” Slice. Scrape. Slice, slice, slice. Scraaape. “I should know,” she said as she picked up the now-flayed marlin and stuck it through with a stick that looked like the broken pole of a spear. “I killed him.”
“Why’s that?” Jacob asked, now eager to hear more.
“He raised a hand at me; he nearly hit me, too, but I just barely dodged and threw my cutting knife at him.” She tossed her knife in her hand and caught it by the blade, stuck between two fingers. “It was an accident at the time, but I don’t regret it. He was the worst man I had ever met at the time; honestly, I’m underplaying just how bad he really was. Hand me those tripods, will you?”
Jacob looked behind him and saw two sets of three sticks tied together at the tips by some vines. He reached back and handed them both to Crimson, who positioned them on either side of the fire and then placed the marlin above it, roasting the fish on the spit.
“Ye ever killed anyone, kid?” Crimson asked, turning the spit with her fingers.
“Aye, I have,” Jacob answered. “Though, I don’t really remember the experience. It happened when my gift was given to me, back as a baby, y’know? According to Hei- to Deighly, I killed five of the Venomwater crew. Aside from that, I’ve maimed some people, but I can’t recall ever outright killing anyone.”
“Yeah?” Crimson said, head cocked towards Jacob but eyes on the fish. “Well, I’ve killed plenty. Neptune knows if they were all deserving. Spared some of the prettier men, like your Captain, though he more so fought me to a draw if I’m being honest.”
Jacob’s eyes gleamed, excited to hear more about his Captain, but Crimson didn’t continue. He wanted to press for more information, but in his excitement he had jostled Georgiana awake again, or maybe it had been from his movements to grab the tripods. Either way, she rose from his shoulder and began rubbing at her bleary eyes.
“How long was I out this time?” she asked, glancing outside.
“Only a few minutes,” Jacob replied. “Long enough for Crimson to come back with breakfast.”
“Oh good,” Georgiana exclaimed as she saw the roasting fish. “I’m starving. And… still tired for some reason. Is that a side effect of using Stoneheart gifts?”
“It might be for you,” Jacob shrugged. “Like Crimson said before, we all have our own side effects and drawbacks to go along with our gifts. You could wind up as a full-on snake for all I know.” Seeing the worried look wash over Georgiana’s face, Jacob corrected himself. “That won’t happen, I promise. I’m just saying I don’t know the extent of what will happen to you.”
“Has someone become a snake before?” Georgiana asked, still transfixed on his previous words.
“I don’t know,” Jacob said, a little tired of the subject already but understanding of the questions. “Maybe, but I’ve not heard of it outside of the gifts that let you turn into snakes, kinda like Crimson’s shark gift.”
That seemed to ease Georgiana’s anxiety a little. She glanced at the cooking fish and began to take a few small jars from her satchel. She sprinkled one over the fish, then another, glazing it with small clear crystals and black flecks.
“You carry salt and pepper?” Jacob asked. “Isn’t pepper really expensive to come by?”
“We grow it here,” Georgiana said, recorking both bottles and placing them back in her satchel. “Salt and pepper both have alchemical uses, so it’s useful to keep them around.”
“She needs proper training,” Crimson spoke up suddenly. Both teens stopped and stared at her confusedly. Crimson sighed in irritation. “You were wondering why she was so tired. That’s your answer. She needs proper training. Her body and especially her mind aren’t used to having a gift, let alone using it like she did yesterday. I’ll help if you’ll let me.”
The snap and crackle of the fire filled the empty space with sound. Jacob only nodded, as did Georgiana, and he found that he was oddly excited at the premise. He still hadn’t finished his own training — despite Heilyn’s wishes, he’d mostly been trained on the more mental exercises of sailing — but there was always just something about being able to teach someone else something you’re passionate about that brings a thrill. He’d rarely gotten to do so since everyone else on the Forsaken was so skilled in one area or another, so his mind jumped at this opportunity.
“How do you expect to teach her anything without a ship though?” Jacob brought up. “Isn’t that the best way to practice with a gift?”
“Yer confusing best and only, boy,” Crimson retorted. “Ye think the first ever people to get gifts immediately thought, ‘Oh, guess I should become a pirate now’? Nuh uh. They just had to figure out what they were doing, and what those metals and stones did to them. Believe it or not, but being a maid also helped me in ways being a privateer hasn’t.”
“You were a maid?” Georgiana asked, barely holding back a smirk.
“Aye, as a matter of fact,” Crimson said, paying no attention to the ridicule, “I was, and as I said it helped me later in life when I got my gift. Cooking, sailing, cleaning, all of that helps yer mind and body prepare itself for using a gift.”
“I already explained that to her, Crimson,” Jacob sighed.
“Well, did you tell her anything about the different types of gifts?” Crimson was pandering. “The rarities? Their strengths? No? Then I suggest you shut your fish trap and let someone qualified do the explaining, got it?”
Jacob threw his hands up. “Fine, fine. Just let me help where I can.”
“Aye.” Crimson took the marlin off the spit and began to clean it, dusting off some of the ashes and embers which had floated from the fire.
No, she was smearing them over, not wiping them off. Jacob had seen Saltyboots do the same a million times before, but had never been close enough to realize the ash never actually left the carcass.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Georgiana spoke up, “what are you going to have me do? Without having access to a ship, I mean.”
“Eh, ‘haven’t fully figured that out yet,” Crimson admitted. “You can start with helping me finish this fish here, though.” She presented her with the spit. “You too, calamari man. You said you never got to cook much. This is your chance.”
Jacob nodded and took one side of the spit from Crimson. Georgiana took the other and they got to work, following Crimson’s commands as well as they could. Jacob found the task came easily, his hands flowing over the smooth surface, picking out bones, rubbing some more spices over the flesh that Georgiana happened to have on her. Crimson sighed at not having any dill or basil, but what were they to do? They were lucky to have an alchemist’s apprentice with them at all.
They had no plates to serve the fish on; instead, when they were ready to eat, they used their blades to slice off sections of the meat and eat it as strips, one by one. They had repositioned the spit and tripods over a stone to make sure the fish wasn’t further cooked, and they ate in silence.
“So… how exactly did that help with gift training?” Georgiana asked, cleaning her hands off in some water she gathered in her plant bowl.
“It’s more of a focusing exercise than anything,” Crimson answered, sucking the remains of the juices from her fingers. “However, the preparation should help tentacle-tastic over here with control over his tentacles. Well,” she finished, standing up, “it will if he continues to do it. Cook some more, and you’ll be on your way to mastering your gifts.”