Sneak peek at Project:Ocean

As we step out from the shelter of the courtyard, the wind his me like a wall, pushing me sideways and sending my curls swirling around my face. Despite the shrieking howls of the wind, the ocean shouts even louder. Waves crash against the jagged gray cliffs, mist spraying up over the edge to greet us. 

Something stirs inside me as I stare down at the curling turquoise waves, my feet only feet from the crumbling edge of the cliff. The emotion is dark and oily, squiggly through my soul, but, at the same time, it sends jolts of heat through my blood, simultaneously disconcerting and exhilarating. The ocean is a complex thing; it always has been. Raging on the surface, placid underneath the waves. From one angle, a desolated maker of chaos and, from another, a giver of life. 

 “There it is,” Kol says, deep voice rumbling as he points to a distant shape on the horizon. 

 The morning sun is barely pushing through the heavy clouds that hang low in the sky, giving barely enough light to make out the ship he’s pointing to. It looks minuscule from this distance, but by the three masts that stand straight up from its deck. White sails flutter lazily in the wind, like ghosts drifting above the waves. 

 He turns to me and smiles softly, warmth filling his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 I smile back and turn to face the water. Squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath.

 Power swells inside me as I raise my arms towards the sea. It comes like the ocean, starting like a gentle lapping of warmth through my chest, growing and growing until my power churns inside of me, bitterly cold and stinging. My hands begin to tremble as I point them towards the ship. I wait until my magic reaches a fever pitch before opening my mouth.

 The song that leaves my lips is soft and ethereal, a sliding shifting of notes that grows more haunting with each syllable. When I was a child, it was my favorite thing to listen to the adults and older children practice their songs. Their otherworldly melodies would echo through the fortress, filling it with music. Now, the songs have become so much a part of me that I barely take the time to notice them anymore.

 As my voice rises, notes growing sharper and more jagged, the ship shifts. I imagine I can hear its giant rudder turning, the ship following its lead. Wind fills the sails and it glides across the water towards us, picking up speed with each passing measure. 

 Beside me, Kol nods along to the music, his eyes fixed on the ship. 

 Soon, I can hear the creaking of the wood and the snapping of the ropes as the sails pull taut. The sailors stand against the railing. Their faces are tipped up to look at me. They look at me like I’m a goddess; a small figure, wild curls whipping against her face, in a fading blue dress.

 Sympathy stirs inside me as I look down at them. Their faces are so empty, their eyes—of all shapes and sizes—blank as they return my gaze. The poor things. Their lives have been so empty, never knowing the joy it is to truly serve the goddesses and gods. They followed blindly what they believed to be the truth, completely missing out on the true Revelation. 

“Sadly, this is the best we can offer them, Seren,” Kol says solemnly. The corners of his mouth turn down as he watches the ship’s crew. “They will never find the Path.”

Funneling all my remaining power into my voice, I sing the final poignant verse. 

The ship hits the rocks with an earsplitting shriek. I don’t flinch as the front of the ship splinters, water gushing into its hull. Immediately, it begins to dip into the sea, the deck tilting and the crew sliding. They don’t fight it. Instead, they let the motion carry them forward into the water. 

No matter how many times I use my magic like this. It always surprises me how fast the ships disappear into the water. By the time I sing the final note, the swirling waves have sucked the once mighty ship and its crew deep below.

Kol steps forward until the tips of his boots are hanging over the edge. “May the gods have mercy on their souls.”

He turns on his heel and strides back towards the fortress. 

I watch him recede from the corner of my vision, unable to move from the edge of the cliff. The wreckage of the ship swirls in the gray waters.

I manage to get a glimpse of the faded letters on the side: Yemara. The paint is as crumbling as the version of the goddess they serve. The Yemara disappears beneath the waves. Gone forever, along with the men and women aboard.