The undulating motion in the ceaseless shadows was beginning to take its toll on William. Already on the run, the exiled son of the crown had already been thrown for several loops, but what made it all undoubtedly worse was the fact that he was exhausted. It had been months since he had been stripped of his magic, but the hollow cavity left in its wake was still crippling. No matter how long he slept, it was never enough, and 150,000 leagues under the sea with nothing to do, and nowhere to go, William often found himself staring into the open ocean.
Wriggling around in his cot, struggling to fall asleep, William spotted a bloom of bioluminescent jellyfish just outside his window. They were floating gracefully in the current as the ship navigated their way through a kelp forest. An eerie stillness reverberated throughout the hull, sending shivers down his spine. William fixed his gaze on the kelp that swayed around the vessel and the iridescent tendrils that drifted across the invisible moors of the sea floor; their glowing silhouettes gently faded out into the distance as William willed himself to sleep. Gods he was tired.
Curled into himself on his cot William was sound asleep when he heard a voice.
“William? William? William, wake up,” a sweet voice crooned from the edge of his mind.
Stars above, what time was it? Cracking open an eye, William twisted towards the voice and saw a small figure perched onto top his excuse of a bed, gently shaking his shoulder. The smell of coffee and vanilla filled the room. Bewildered, William rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. It took him a minute to recognize who it was, Roslyn?
“Ros is that you?” William’s voice rasped out. Still heavy with sleep, William was caught between waking and dream when a thought crossed his mind Gods, she looked beautiful. Roslyn’s ink black hair was bound behind her head, yet wisps of it curled around her face in every which way. Her caramel colored complexion was dark enough for William to guess that she had been out in the sun a fair amount recently, and her Quadrivium uniform was disheveled, as usual. Her navy cloak was draped over the desk chair. The thick jumper was enormous over her small frame, and as a result it gently fell over her left shoulder, exposing a new constellation of scars that adorned her collarbone. What did she do?
Adjusting her position she replied, “Of course it’s me, who else would trek down here? I know the storage units are cold, but the cellar is absolutely ridiculous, why do you insist on sleeping here?”
Shaking himself out of his daze William fought the blush that threatened to spread across his face, rolling away from her, towards the wall. “It’s quiet, and I thought you were supposed to be at Quadrivium?” William sluggishly questioned into the pillow; his voice muffled by the fabric.
Leaning over to turn on the lamp beside his bed she continued, “Well yes, but it’s summer break, remember? You and I are going to Atlantica to visit the Library of Atlantis. Besides it’s time for you to wake up.”
Rising to her feet, Roslyn stood to light the dingy chandelier when a sudden boom reverberated through the ship’s hull. Shockwaves resonated throughout the walls, when the submarine suddenly lurched to its side, sending Roslyn flying towards William. Slamming into the wall next to William, the two shared a look of dread for long unsettling moments before they moved. The lights then began to flicker and fade, casting strange shadows across the dreary room. Heartbeats later, William felt a surge of power in the air as the lightbulbs in the room grew bright and shattered into pieces, scattering across the floor. Adrenaline pumped through William’s veins as he shoved on his boots. Quickly dismounting from the bed, William offered Roslyn a hand, yanking her up.
Rushing down the hallway, William heard the internal creaking of the submarine as it swayed uneasily in the surrounding current. The hallway was dim and other than the faint glow of the emergency lights, it was dark. Adjusting his eyes to see, William noticed that the air smelt of smoke and was mingled with the metallic taste of blood and fear. Was something attacking the ship? Had they found him? Stars above were they going to drown? Thoughts whirled around in William’s mind when the submarine shook. Another sickening jolt rattled through William’s bones. Shuddering to the right, this aftershock sent Roslyn stumbling forward and an unbalanced William crashing into her. Blinking he looked down to see that he had landed on top of Roslyn, his chest to her back; accidentally pinning her to the floor.
“OW!” Roslyn snapped.
Untangling their awkward limbs, a scowling Roslyn looked up at a contrite William, “My apologies… I―”
“It’s fine,” Roslyn shot back, cutting him off, “Really, it’s fine, just help me up,” she said, holding out her hand.
William fumbled, trying his best not to stare at her, or dwell on the new callouses that adored her hands. Once she was on her feet again, Roslyn grabbed William’s hand and tugged him along. The contact sent shudders down William’s arm, her hand was cold against his skin, but he liked it anyway.
Scratching the back of his neck he questioned, “Where are we going anyway?”
“The command room, my unofficial office” she responded, “We need to find out if we are being attacked, under siege, facing system failure, or…” she paused looking at William wearily, “or taking on water and sinking.”
Stumbling through the dark corridors, the pair eventually reached the navigation room a handful of minutes later, with Roslyn slamming open the door to reveal the ship’s captain and cook. Amaris and Blair, respectively, were hunched over a map. A dozen or so candles were scattered around the room, illuminating the small space. In the soft yellow glow of the candlelight their eyes snapped up to meet Roslyn, Amaris was the first to speak.
Voice coated in concern, her eyes were fixed on them, “Are you two alright?”
“What is going on?” Roslyn demanded, “I leave for school for what, a handful of months and the moment I return the ship shuts down?”
William did his best to smother the rising laugh in his throat because Roslyn was truly something to behold. Here in her ship, amongst her crew, Roslyn was in her element; she was a natural born leader. Amaris may be the captain of this vessel, but Roslyn was the one that they were all loyal to, she was their leader. They would follow her anywhere, and so would he, William thought, if Roslyn were ever to offer him the blood oath.
“Esca”, Blair stammered, “Esca was cleaning the engine when it suddenly overheated. Engines one and two exploded, engines three and four in the flank overheated but shut down before they could combust. Mahpee is assessing the damage now but it looks like the power will be out till tomorrow.”
Calming down, Roslyn asked, “Is she okay? Was Esca hurt? Where is she? Give me the full report,” the words tumbled out of her mouth faster than William guessed she had intended because her cheeks immediately became flushed.
Walking around a few piles of books and miscellaneously strewn items, Roslyn dug through her desk draws, where she fished out a bag of sherbet suckers. Taking her seat at the head of table she began to suck on one of the sour candies. Waiting for Blair to compose herself, William took the seat to Roslyn’s right. She offered him the bag and helping himself, he popped one into his mouth, and to his surprise it was lemon. Sweet and tart and sour beyond reason, the candies made his lips pucker. Where in heaven’s name did she get these things?
“She’s resting in the infirmary as we speak and should awake within the hour. The air purifiers, oxygenation systems, and carbon cyclers were not damaged in the blast, so we diverted the power generator to them,” Blair informed, “Which is why only the emergency lights are burning,” she pointed to the floating candles that were dispersed around the room. Glancing at Roslyn I saw the question in her eyes; What about fires? What if one of the dozens of loose papers in the submarine, or worse this room, caught fire?
Catching the unspoken question Blair supplied, “Oh and don’t worry, the fire will only burn the wicks of the candles. Nothing else.”
“Are we close enough to anything to signal for help?” Roslyn offered; her voice distorted by the hard candy in her mouth.
That’s when Amaris chimed in, “No, there’s not a ship, or tower within range. We’ll just have to wait it out.”
Clearly satisfied with the answers but not the circumstances, Roslyn sprang up from her worn leather chair and announced, “Well I am going to check out one of the engine rooms myself and see if I can restart it.” Striding to the door with the bag of sherbet suckers in her hand she looked back at William and gestured to the hallway, “Coming?”
Treading down the hallway, Roslyn chatted happily about her classes at Quadrivium. She told him about the particularly embarrassing time that she had accidentally burned down the green house, apparently the fire accelerant looked a lot like the watering can. In exchange he told her about the supply runs that he had been allowed to go on. Allowed, being the operative word because Amaris was worried that if he were to be seen, he would most assuredly be caught and killed. Which meant that he only went on night excursions or not at all. His most recent supply run was in France in few weeks ago, they had bought a crate of dragon fruit and when he told Roslyn that he picked up a copy of Dragon of the West, he didn’t miss the glint in her eye when he said that he had bought it for her.
William wished that he too could have been in Quadrivium; but his warmongering family had swindled him out of that chance. Afterall, they were the ones who started a war with the Fae Kingdoms, and lost, resulting in his current predicament of being both presumed dead and exiled. Running a finger along the wall, William noticed claw marks etched into the metal. William did a double take, claw marks? That couldn’t be right, this was Celestial Steel. Whipping his head around William grabbed Roslyn’s shoulder, signaling for her to stay quiet. There was a stowaway aboard.
Looking down the hallway, William saw that the engine room door was wide open. Approaching the door first, William did not miss the small dagger that Roslyn unsheathed from her boot, or the Fae blade that she drew from her back. William took the Fae blade seamlessly as they quietly padded down the dark hall. Luckily, their eyes had adjusted enough to the dim glow of the emergency lights enabling them to see. Peering into the engine room, Roslyn called out for her friend, her voice echoing off the steel walls. Then out of the corner of his eye William saw a shadow spring forth from the corner of the room. Quick as an asp William advanced. Barely able to make out the creature he heard chomping mandibles. What in the holy hell was he fighting, and where as Mahpee? Slashing the open-air, William’s eyes quickly became disoriented when a white-hot flame ignited within the room.
Searching the room for its source, William’s eyes landed on Roslyn who was standing in the doorway, eyes fixed in concentration. Did she start the fire? No. That couldn’t be right. Roslyn didn’t have magic. Alarm coursed through his veins as recognition began to root itself inside of him. Roslyn had magic. He watched in horror as Roslyn burned the creature to ash from the inside out. Her eyes glowed with something entirely inhuman. How? She somehow continued to burn the creature, leaving nothing but a heap of cinders on the floor, and a ball of fire in that Roslyn maintained to illuminate the room.
“What in hell’s name was that?”
“A gargouille,” pausing he continued scrambling for words as his brain rattled around, “It’s a French water dragon, it must have been nestled one of the crates from our last supply run. It was probably nestled in either the honey or fruit crates.”
“A dragon in a dragon fruit box,” Roslyn questioned, the joke visible on her lips.
However, William wasn’t in the mood for jokes, he instead stood gaping at his friend, suddenly at a loss for words as Roslyn stepped into the engine room; bashful as ever.
“So…” she asked, “Do you like my new trick?”
“You have magic?” William bellowed; caution be damned.
“Yes,” she said sheepishly, looking immensely interested in the floor.
“How?” Disbelief covered his face, coated his voice.
“It’s a long story but basically I died and―” her tone was so nonchalant, that it lacked the gravitas of the situation. She died!
“You died!” William interjected.
“Yes, but it didn’t stick. As you can tell” she retorted wriggling her fingers in front of his face, “I am very much alive. I would have told you sooner but I…”
Her words began to fade into the distance as a jealous pit began to form in his chest at that, she had cast the fire. She cast the fire and he could not. Even after months of having lost his magic, William still yearned for it. Although he could still feel the pulsing weight and thrumming presence of magic around him; he could not control it. Not like he used to, not like he wanted to; not like he should be able to. William felt his legs rise, taking him out of the confined room, down to the observation deck; he needed some space.
In the months that he had spent with the crew, Roslyn had been at Quadrivium; and to his knowledge she had never showed an ounce of magic. On the floor of the observation deck, William lay sprawled on top a rug looking up through the thick glass. The protection wards and spells shimmered like starlight in the abyss. He didn’t know how long he had been there, caught up in his spiraling thoughts, but suddenly William smelled the vague scent of coffee and lemon, when he felt a small finger jab his arm. It was Roslyn.
“William, earth to William,” Roslyn chimed, waving a hand in front of his face she continued, “Why are you acting so weird? And don’t even try to lie to me. What’s wrong?”
Peeking in her direction William saw that Roslyn was laying down next to him on the tattered old rug, her raven hair, was now unbounded, fanning itself out in a disheveled mess around her head. While debating if to tell her the truth, Roslyn’s eyes snapped to meet his, “No secrets means no secrets and that goes both ways, I’ll tell you about the magic but you spill first, what’s going on with you?” she glowered.
The tone of her voice reminded him; of the many times he had read her that same riot act. Cursing himself internally William quietly told Roslyn everything; well almost everything. He admitted to her why he had stormed out the room, what he had been doing since they had last seen each other, and about his magic. He omitted telling her about his feelings towards her, deciding that the timing just was not right. He was an exiled prince and would have a target on his back for the rest of his life. No, now would definitely not be the time to inflict such a truth, so instead William ended his confessional with a half-truth.
“I’ve also just missed seeing you every day,” he mused, forcing cheer and levity into his throat, he tried again, pinning a smile to his face “There is no one to share my books with, talk about my favourite characters, or even read to here,” forcing a laugh he continued, “They are all very dull if you ask me, I don’t know how you haven’t died of boredom here. It’s absolutely dreadful.” Looking over at Roslyn, William took in her wistful expression. She had listened to him intently, not interrupting once, while he unpacked his woes.
Finally breaking the silence Roslyn split the stillness between them, “Well, not everyone can be as charismatically charming as me, surely you must know.” A grin was plastered over her face, but it quickly reduced into something more serious, “William… I’ve lived more than half my life without magic, and I know it’s not the same but… magic isn’t everything. Your value as a person is not contingent on your ability to serve or protect. You are valuable because you care, you’re a good friend, and, gods William how could you ever for one second believe that you are not worth loving?” She whispered that last line.
William was stunned, propping himself up on his elbow he looked at Roslyn in awe, “You think I am still worth loving? I am an exiled son of the crown, who has been stripped of his all his magic, lands, and wealth.”
“You’re my friend dummy, of course I still think your worthy. Your lifestyle may have changed, but your core values and personality traits are still there. You are still the same idiot who got into an argument with me over who started the human World War I, in a museum of all places.” She checked looking right back at him, “William I know you, of course I still think you are worth loving.”
And just like that William was breathless again.
Gods help him, her mind matched the rest of her, beautiful.
