#llymlaen's ascent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dagasii · 4 months

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Prologue

It was a mighty high drop from the cliffs into the churning waves. And it was a brutal storm blowing in from the south. Dark scud clouds hung low beneath the darkness that blanketed the coast. The winds were violent and bone-rattling, and every pelting raindrop on the skin felt like a whip's lash. Merlofyr's gore-red skirt clung, soaked, to her legs. Her hair stuck to her face and the nape of her neck. Her left arm ached in fingerprint pinpoints where her father's grip had bruised when he dragged her up here from the safety of the ship.

Hyllubd the Offal wasn't the world's most well-known pirate. But he was among the more ruthless. Blood seeped through the decks of his ship to the point that the red-stained boards oozed their rusty tinge back into stormwater that splashed onto them. His crew, the Whorling Poisoners, reveled in the sport of pillaging. It was all for Llymlaen, they said. For she fed on the fathoms of depravity with a gaping wave-toothed maw and tasted the blood that dripped into her waters with each life taken. She smiled, shark-like, with each. Hyllubd's Llymlaen was Merloefyr's Llymlaen, wrathful and cruel and bitter. It was her blessing the pirates sought.

It had been so easy for Merloefyr to swallow something kinder. When the Poisoners had taken the woman, Undgeim, in a raid, they'd stashed her below to starve. Her worth was as much as her ransom, and nothing more. Maybe if things got dicey, she could be a shield to protect Hyllubd or his wife from flying bullets. For months she'd been down there, taking the scraps Merloefyr brought. She'd taught the girl about a gentler Llymlaen. A goddess who loved the shore as she loved the depths; who embraced the coastal sun, salted winds, and the joy of life. Llymlaen chose no saints of butchery but of temperance, piety, and life's sanctity.

And the words had tasted so sweet, and that Llymlaen had settled in Merloefyr's heart. So she'd freed the woman in thanks. How simple it had been, then, to do the right thing. Naive girl, Merloefyr hadn't expected the Knights of the Barracuda to fall upon the ship. It was a bloodbath, half the crew dead and another third in shackles. Her betrayal laid bare, there was no one to defend her when Hyllubd seized her.

His form was but a shadow in the fog, a faceless behemoth. But the glimmer of his blades was unmistakable. A slow draw followed by a flash of movement and the sound of the swordpoint sinking into the ground saw the sword at Merloefyr's feet. Each blade bore half a quote by the pirate M'alesh, whose poetry was said to call the sirens in from the shoals.

'Sacrifice your heart to the sea...' this one read in whirling cursive. Merloefyr knew the other. '...And seize your fortune on the rising tides.'

"Pick it up," Hyllubd demanded. His voice was coarse and sharp. But Merloefyr followed his instruction, and her wet fingers curled around the cool metal hilt. She'd held these swords before. They were to be hers one day, he'd said. Probably not anymore.

As soon as it was in her hand, Hyllubd began to advance. Swinging his weapon, he forced his daughter back. Each meeting of the blades rattled up her arm. The sound of grating metal screeched and clattered over the pounding rain. Hyllubd's face was clear through the fog now. His yellowed teeth grit. His nostrils flared. Veins like worms bulged beneath his forehead. His black, bovine eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Merloefyr opened her mouth to plead, but her ascent had been full of screaming, howling like a desperate animal. Her fingernails were still bloody beneath from where she'd clawed her father's hand as he'd dragged her. When Merloefyr opened her mouth to plead now, only a broken crackle of breath arose.

Hyllubd reeled back, and the blow that came shook her teeth when Merloefyr caught it clumsily on the flat of her weapon. Bile rose in her throat and her stomach churned with terror now. Her heart thrummed faster, a pounding that deafened even the rain in her ears. Her heels just brushed the edge of the cliffs, and she couldn't lose any more ground without plunging into the blackened sea.

"I'm sorry!" Merloefyr choked. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please!" But Hyllubd did not hear, or he did not care.

The flash of metal signaled the raising of his sword. Too close to block, too quick to dodge. There was a feeling like ripping seams as it fell upon her, and warmth spread across her face. The rain in her eyes grew dark and opaque. The scent of iron filled the air.

Hyllubd reached forward then, almost gently, as Merloefyr blinked in shock. Her whole body shook and trembled, mouth agape as thick, dark, bloody rainwater trailed past her lips. It dripped onto her tongue. Hyllubd pried the sword out of her hand.

And then he pushed her. Pushed her so hard the wind left her chest and she found herself falling. One last, bloodied gasp, and Merloefyr plunged into the sea.

#Merloefyr writing

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