The Unblessed Child

by R J Kaldanis

  Beneath deck, the being that was staring down Aardriyah was neither recognisably male or female. Their completely shaven, golden head was adorned with deep purple eye shadow forming a peculiar pattern down onto their cheeks. Their long arms extended towards her, black tattoos of curled tribal markings running the length of them, while an amethyst eye amulet hung from their spindly fingers, swaying in time to the rock of the ocean. While Aardriyah and Kit had been thrown to the left-hand wall with the crashing of Queen Elin’s ship into their own, the being didn’t seem to be impacted at all and continued to make their way forth. Aardriyah felt a warm trickle of blood make its way down her forehead which Kit quickly licked away. She never considered herself brave, not an inch, but right now she knew she had to be.

  Rachida pushed herself from the deck of the now severely damaged ship, looking around at the lifeless bodies of people who were her colleagues, travel companions and friends. She spied Sekher, trying to apply pressure to a badly wounded air blessed, the blood seeping from every part of the body mixing with the blonde locks of their hair. She had never seen him cry, he was always so stoic and brave, but the death and pain surrounding them now was enough to force even the toughest souls to weep at the senseless loss. Turning to her right, Rachida watched as three of the beast’s heads gnashed at Prince Chastion’s ship. Several air blessed were using swords and cleavers to hack away at one of the heads, while the fire blessed were burning through another head. When the air blessed cheered at the success of their decapitation, they were shortly after thrown from their ship as the two new emerging heads hit them by surprise. The fire blessed had also just successfully decapitated one of the other heads and fearing the fate that awaited them, they watched in silence and trepidation. But nothing happened, other than the beast letting out several large screeches in pain from the remaining heads. Rachida understood in that moment what needed to be done. She knew now they had a chance, as close to defeat as they were, to down the beast once and for all.

  Aardriyah pushed herself up from the leaking timber floor of the healer’s bay, her body ached with each movement, as she tried to find a brace to support herself. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew this being in front of her had some connection to the beast wreaking havoc above.

  “Who are you?” She demanded, in a voice louder than she expected.

  The being stopped moving forward, pausing in perfect stillness as a white crescent moon of a smile slowly receded behind their thin lips.

  “Born in the islands of water,

  And unblessed, loveless daughter.”

  “What are you doing here?” Aardriyah pressed, taking another limped step towards the being, pain radiating down her left leg with every step she managed.

  “With hair of fire and eyes of earth,

  Airsday of The Arche her day of birth” It continued, the eye amulet twirling slowly clockwise in its hands.

  Rachida grabbed Princess Kibo, unaware of her own injuries or the blood that covered her face. The Princess stood slowly and asked again,

  “What do you suggest?”

  Rachida smiled through blood stained teeth and said,

  “We need to cauterize it, maybe then it won’t regrow.” Just as Rachida had learnt that sealing a wound with fire would cease any infection from spreading, she believed that sealing the beasts wounds would cease their heads from regrowing.

  “Tell the others.” Princess Kibo said, her only indication of agreement to Rachida’s plan.

  “How are you controlling that beast?” Aardriyah yelled, sick of the riddles and rhymes.

  “The strength of many finally in one,

  To rid the world of all those unworthy daughters and sons.” The being smiled a sickly-sweet smile, before closing their eyes as the amethyst eye amulet shook rapidly, exuding an other-worldly power. A split second later, several loud screeches and roars filled the air above the ship. The being’s body jolty and opened their eyes in shock, while coughing up deep red blood. Aardriyah seized the moment to take the amulet from the being’s hands and without hesitation, she threw it on the ground and smashed it into a million pieces of purple shards. The being screamed louder and cried an inhuman echo that filled the healers' bay and pierced the night sky around. Then in a final act of desperation, they threw themselves to the floor trying to piece together the amulet, trying to restore the evil magic that was stored within.

  A loud splash rocked the ship and threw Aardriyah back to the floor beside Kit. Soon after, she heard victorious cheers above deck and though she didn’t know whether it was her doing or not, she knew her friends were safe and the beast finally gone. The being in front of her powerless to whatever control it had, was crying and sobbing, cursing Aardriyah with every breath. As her head began to spin and her heartbeat faded, she smiled as tears began to stream down her face - she had never known so much pain but somehow, it seemed entirely worth it. Aardriyah never considered herself brave and for the first time in her life, she knew she wasn’t completely helpless and useless. She smiled, thinking once more of a sweet little girl with white hair and crystal blue eyes. How she couldn’t wait to tell her just how brave her big unblessed sister had been. With that, the darkness of night took over her body and she slipped away, giving in to the unending rest it promised.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  aftermath

  In the first light of the morning following the attack, the mission to retrieve goods and supplies from the sunken ships began. Water blessed struggled the night prior as the little light given by the moon made the retrieval missions futile. A few unlucky water blessed staff had the heart wrenching task of retrieving bodies of other staff, those that were earth, air or fire blessed in order to give them proper funeral rights as their custom dictated. Any unblessed who had perished in the battle were given back to the ocean, in hope that their sacrifice would calm the Goddess Undina, keeping her beasts of the water at bay for the remaining journey.

  Prince Chastion dove time and time again, rescuing as much as he could and only rested when his mother’s demanded he stop for fear they would lose him too. The truth was, anything he could do to distract himself from the reality that his sister lay on her deathbed, was welcomed and provided a small amount of relief from the growing guilt. Princess Kibo had been injured more severely than the other members of the royal family and had been otherwise on bed rest, trying to recuperate from the immense amount of water blessed magic she had executed during the attack.

  A deep sadness fell upon the fleet, so many had been wounded that the two remaining healers' bays were overwhelmed with too many crowded beds and not enough supplies to last long. Anyone who had any healing experience was required to help, assisting with amputations, cauterizing wounds and treating infections with what little they had.

  Rachida pushed open the wooden door that led to the healer’s bay aboard Princess Kibo’s ship. She looked around the room as a stench of rot and decay filled her nose and the sounds of crying, sobbing and painful pleas created a chorus of despair. There had to be at least three dozen inside the room, most were laid on furs on the ground with only six beds housing the severely wounded. Rachida tried to avert her eyes from the terror surrounding her and moved swiftly to the back of the room where a red and white canine turned its head and wagged its tail in excitement upon seeing her. She placed down a small bowl she had been holding and Kit lapped up the food eagerly.

  “How is she?” Rachida asked the canine, who now licked its lips and curled up once more beside its master. The long red locks of Aardriyah’s hair were slightly dampened from the leaks in the ship, but otherwise lay unmoving and as lifeless as their owner on the hard floor of the healer’s bay. Rachida pulled a small blanket over Aardriyah and grasped her hand, holding it tightly and trying to heat her enough to shock her into waking. Nothing happened, Aardriyah’s eyes remained shut and unmoving, her chest barely rising and falling - the sole indication that she continued to live, for the time being.

 
; The days following the attack on the Royal Fleet, were the hardest to get through. The damage caused to two of the ships was irreparable and resulted in severely cramped conditions on the remaining ships. The bodies that were recovered were given proper funeral rights, per the custom of their blessing - water blessed were given to the water to be taken to the deep of the ocean, air blessed were passed higher and higher into the sky until their bodies were disintegrated and their particles drifted on the winds. The fire blessed lit their fallen bodies alight and cried as the ashes of the comrades flew across the sea. The only bodies who were unable to be given proper rights, were those of the earth blessed. A decision was made to keep those bodies in the little remaining stowage on the ships and at the first sight of land, bury them accordingly. Any unblessed who had perished in their fight were given to the ocean, as there was not enough space to return them to their homelands or loved ones.

  Rachida returned to the healer’s bay each day, giving Kit his well needed food and praying to all the gods that her friend would make it through. When they had found Aardriyah collapsed in the healer’s bay, not far from where she now lay, they were unsure how she had ended up there or why. She had been severely bruised from being thrown across the ship with the volatile waves, but otherwise bared no indication wrongdoing, nothing that warranted her endless sleep. On several occasions, Rachida had noticed the Prince’s presence in the healer’s bay. He’d talk to all those that were able to do something more than moan in agony but seemed to spend an unusually long amount of time watching over Riyah. After spending time watching over her, he would leave without a further word and usually wouldn’t be seen for the rest of the day.

  Master Keelie had also visited the bay several times, ordering those who were capable of moving to do so and assist above deck, contrary to the warnings of the healers on board.

  “This is not a holiday, this is your place of work. You are not getting paid to lie around on furs for a bruised knee!”

  He had roared this on occasion to the poor souls who challenged his command, and after hearing it once the servants and staff seemed to obey without any further questioning.

  On the Firesday following the attack, before what was meant to be the second Lullday onboard, Queen Iber called all those the remaining onboard to attention. Her face was far more wrinkled and weathered than it had been the Lullday of last week. Her demeanour full of sorrow and sadness as she mustered the strength to address her loyal subjects.

  “Blessed day to all. Undina has tested us, sent us a beast not seen in Verosian waters for long, long time. We do not know why, cannot know why gods and goddesses do so - but it is their will. They do what they want and we say, ok” She tried to smile slightly, her thick accented words softening as she looked around the faces of her staff and servants. A warm, soft hand grabbed hers and squeezed tightly as Queen Elin stood beside her wife. Queen Iber smiled at her, finding the strength to continue.

  “But, we are strong - it is how we are made, who we are. We must go on with little we have and push forwards to the Crystal Capital as promised. With two ships, not a lot of space for all of us so on Sunsday, we dock in The Dead Bay. Those who missed solid ground, it is your chance to continue on foot until we find horse or camel or maybe even big dog, to ride on.” The crowd stirred with the little laughter they could muster.

  “If not enough volunteers, Master Keelie will nominate. Bless you all.” With that she took her wife’s hand, moving to the staircase of the deck housing the royal bedroom the queens were sharing. Prince Chastion followed the queens with a still limping Princess Kibo by his side. Once inside the crowded royal bed chamber, Prince Chastion finally spoke,

  “What of my sister? I won’t leave her on board not knowing if she’s going to-”

  “Your duty is to people up there, out there, not to one sister you barely know.” Responded Queen Iber, annoyed at her son’s sudden found fondness for such an unblessed individual who had made no contribution to the Realm and was of no importance to anyone of importance.

  “Chastion, darling, you know we need to travel carefully, we cannot leave with the whole family aboard the ships. Since Kibo can barely walk, it would be cruel and unfair to make her travel the remaining journey on foot. You need to go with Iber and guide the rest of the convoy north, as discussed.” Queen Elin tried to soothe her adopted son down, using rational logic against the chaotic heart that seemed to be ruling him lately.

  “And how will you contact us? Hmmm? How will you let us know you are safe, she is alive and the danger has passed?” He continued to push, not satisfied with the answers being provided by either of his mothers. The two women looked at each other and sighed. Queen Iber threw her hands up in the air and stalked to a small desk, where she poured herself a small drink of a foul-smelling liquid before sculling it. Through a twisted face, she said,

  “You don’t think Elin and Kibo are good enough to look after themselves? You forget they are just as strong as you - even without dangling sausage between legs. They are masters of water and you must respect that instead of trying to be hero all the time. What you want? Song sung about you? Book written of how brave and strong Prince Chastion is?” She poured herself another drink, sculling it just as quick as the one before.

  “I adore that you want to look after us and care for us, darling. But Iber’s right, we are more than capable of looking after ourselves. If it makes you feel any better, you can leave your strongest guards here, surely that will give you some peace of mind.” Queen Elin moved towards Prince Chastion, reaching out to his crossed arms and touching them softly. As she stroked his hair out of his eyes, he refused to look at her, instead he huffed and asked,

  “What of the prisoner? We haven’t got anything from them, we don’t know what they are capable of or who sent them. I don’t feel comfortable leaving them on board with you and Kibo and Aardriyah. Who knows what they might do if they think there is a weakness in our defences, what if they had something to do with that beast?”

  Queen Iber laughed and held her stomach.

  “What? You think little weirdo with bad makeup and silly tattoos is control beast? No, no. They are just stowaway trying to escape that crappy island for better life, is all.”

  Out of the two women who had raised him, Prince Chastion found he was more similar to Queen Iber in most instances, the strength and cunning he possessed was from years of lessons in watching her, mimicking her and admiring her. Right now, he wanted nothing to do with the woman who seemed to care so little about anyone she considered unworthy of her time. Right now, that included his little sister. Regardless of how few similarities Chastion and Aardriyah had, how little they seemed to know of each other as adults, he couldn’t just give up on her or pretend that she was no one. She was his flesh and blood and he had failed her before, left her in poverty with little hope for a future and he would be damned by the gods before he let this happen again. Realising his arguments were futile against his strong headed mother, he gave Queen Elin a kiss on the cheek and stormed out of the royal bedroom without a further word to Queen Iber.

  The wooden ship creaked louder than ever before; every wave that hit it led to leaks seeping through the fractured wooden carcass. He opened a small hatch door and made his way to the lowest depths of the large galleon. Two royal guards, bruised and cut, stood in the freezing chamber, they bowed to their Prince before leaving upon his instructions. There was only one prisoner held behind the wooden bars that made up the cells of the ship. The other chambers were filled with dead bodies of earth blessed, making the stench of the chamber almost unbearable. Prince Chastion strode towards the prisoner, covered in a deep purple cloak and rocking back and forth, humming a song foreign to anything Chastion had heard.

  “The guards say you refuse meals? Do you have no need to eat?” He decided to try a soft approach, rather than ripping the prisoner to pieces and demanding answers. He knew, after years of watching Queen Elin negotiate, that a soft caring app
roach often resulted in more compliance than the rough, bloody negotiation style Queen Iber preferred. He crouched down at the front of the cell, trying to look into the eyes of the hooded prisoner, still humming.

  “Where is the song from? I cannot recognise the melody.”

  The prisoner stopped humming, still not paying any attention to Chastion. Perhaps, he thought, he was being too soft, perhaps he needed to bloody this prisoner up to get any answers. But it felt so wrong, it wasn’t the way that Chastion liked to operate and he wasn’t sure if this man had done anything to warrant a tougher negotiation style. Chastion sighed and sat down on the wet floor of the chamber.

  “They told me where they found you, the healers' bay. If you were looking for some salve or herb, you could have just asked. We would have willingly cared for you and left you to face justice at the hands of The Crystal Capital. We do follow the convention here, we’re not barbarians, it is not our place to pass judgement without proper trial.” The being continued rocking back and forth, still not responding. Chastion sighed. He looked at the being, and calmly said,

  “You are lucky to have survived the attack, truth be told. The healer’s bay seemed to have completely avoided the wrath of the beast.”

  “Lucky...” the prisoner muttered.

  The voice that rasped in the damp, dark chamber sounded sickly and harsh, as if the prisoner was infected with the cold lung.

  “Are you sick?” Chastion asked, giving his peaceful approach one last shot. The prisoner didn’t respond, but made a mocking low cough, before glaring into Chastion’s deep blue eyes. The pitch-black eyes of the prisoner seemed to hold Chastion in place, unable to think, unable to move, unable to speak. He felt lost in time and space, unaware of his surroundings or who he was and whose eyes he was looking into.