Waterside Gift
Amara awakes to realize she may not be as safe on land as she first assumed.
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The swooning cough of a night bird was the first thing that tugged at Amara’s senses. The next was a cool breeze that played across her face and exposed arms. She shifted with a groan, turning over to stare at a star-filled sky. Far from the lamps of Harpsford trading port, the sky really was beautiful. It was like tar stuffed with lights of any color you could think of; you just needed to watch long enough to see them. Amara loved the sea and being far from the islands for a reason, or at least she used to.
When the woman sat up, her head swam. She felt like her mouth was stuffed with cotton fluff. Amara’s throat and mouth burned. She made a scratchy noise, moving her lips and trying to get some saliva flowing again.
While the captain was busy, her fingers brushed over something. She squirmed back, not touching it at first. The woman looked down, her breath catching as she spotted something lying close to her. A gleam of silver reflecting the moonlight pulls her attention. On the rocky slab she’d fallen asleep on, just inches from her side, there was a knife laid on a piece of cloth. Next to it was the thing that made her gasp. A pale water skin that seemed full to the brim.
She reached for the water instinctually and then hesitated. Her eyes widened. She was exhausted, and her head felt like murky swamp water had invaded her senses. “Where did… Oh, spirits of the past and sea. They were here, but Tideborn can’t leave the water, not like that. I’ve only been here a few days, right?” The woman shuddered at the thought of one of those creatures so close while she’d been out cold.
She carefully grabbed the knife, deciding it was the lesser of two evils to check first. However, the captain’s eyes kept creeping back to the waiting water, and her throat gave a painful twinge.
The blade was larger and heavier than her original and felt well-balanced. She’d have to look better in the daylight. Though the blade itself seemed to let off a warm, pulsing hum. Sighing, she took the knife and secured it in the sash around her waist. Amara glanced up as she thought she heard something. Looking through the foliage again, there was a soft splash, but nothing more than a ripple on the surface of the water.
The exhausted woman carefully uncovered the spout, drinking slow gulps of water. It tasted clean, better than the port’s water, but there was a strange tang to it. The former captain licked her lips; it took everything not to empty the vessel right then and there. She knew, though, that water was precious and drinking too much at once could be catastrophic. Her throat still burned some, but overall she was relieved to start feeling better.
“Water…they left me water and a knife? What’s this game they’re playing? I’ve not known stories of mermaids keeping humans. Not long anyway, and usually just to fuck so they can reproduce, then it’s game over…”
The lonesome survivor let out a frustrated sigh. Honestly, Amara was just grateful to know she’d survive long enough to figure out a way off this rock. She’d heard the Auk and they were a treasure trove of eggs. Not to mention slow on land. Though she knew she could probably spot useful plants if she looked hard enough for a good food source. It was clear the islands were fertile and full of life.” This is like my Nan’s shack, surrounded by life and not touched by the mainlanders.
The woman takes a long draft as slowly as she can manage again; it was best to nurse the water at this point. Once her head felt like it was starting to clear, Amara got up slowly. Pausing only a moment, the former captain reached down and grabbed the cloth that had been resting under the knife.
When picked up, the cloth unfurled and small objects fell onto the ground. She managed to snag the strange little things that felt a bit fleshy and squished in her fingers but didn’t crush easily. “Some kind of succulent or cactus with no thorn?” She thinks, knowing that it would be impossible to tell under the starlight. So the survivor limps off, refusing to sleep near this pool of water again if it can be helped.
It was in the morning light the next day that Amara got a look at the things she had found in the darkness. The former captain had wound up back at her stone slab hideaway. The knife that had been left behind was beautiful and well-made, with swirling symbols on the blade. It sang softly, with a melody that seemed to echo the ambient song of the Tideborn. “Magic…but what type?” She murmured and rubbed her finger over the hilt of the blade. Rather than it being wrapped with leather, it was bound with a blue silk ribbon. A charm of red coral dangled by a chain from the end.
With a shake of her head, she sheaths the blade, setting it down. The waterskin wasn’t something special really, but the symbol branded on it wasn’t branded but inked onto the leather. The symbol didn’t run through as if magic branding was used to label it. It matched a well-known ship symbol from the mainland. She knew they came in larger numbers to the islands near where their ship had come from. “I can’t believe my friends and crew are all gone…”
She rolled the half-empty container in her hands. The leather was nothing she had seen before; it was pale and covered in pores. The insides looked different too. Some kind of weed or sea kelp had been cured and likely sealed to the innards. The only thing Amara was certain of was that recovery had come quicker than it should have by only drinking half the water so far.
“Those ships always have the most favorable seas... I wonder why.” She said, glancing towards the light filtering through the bushes. She hadn’t dared go near the beach or the freshwater pool again. The former captain glanced down at her lap. The only thing she hadn’t really examined just yet was the strange squishy things picked up the night before.
The woman took the cloth found with the other items. Carefully, she unwrapped the small group of objects hidden within the blue silk cloth. Small rubbery pink and green bulbs fell onto the stone ground. Amara let out a soft gasp, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
She’d been limping and her foot aching since her arrival on the beach. The woman had managed to use some of the water in the container carefully to wash out the dirt in her foot wound. The survivor was quick to start gently cutting a slit into the little succulent growths. “Where did these come from? I didn’t see any near the haunt earlier.”
Saltmoss was very valuable; it cleaned wounds and could help numb pain. Amara was already worried she would lose her foot at this rate, even with a careful cleaning. Now that she had a knife and knew where the water reed was. The wound could get a thorough cleaning and now medicine as well…