Salt

[Session 16, 09.05.2024 ]
 
Salt
 
I don’t know what took over me when I took the journal with me. Hope, that I could return it to Valerian? Then the realisation that I don’t even know if he’s gone from the island. For all I know, he could have just teleported himself to the kitchens. I think I might have a tendency to rush through things, Rusalka might have said that. There’s… a level of pettiness to it as well, I must admit. I know the book is important to him, so by taking it he now has a reason to see me once more. What a great way to shoot yourself in the leg, as if that’s something that’s going to make him want to spend any time with me. Likely I’ve just ruined my chances even further.
 
I don’t even know if I want to be with him.
 
But I don’t see myself blaming him for all that’s been happening, not really. Was he participating in it? Yes, and that makes him a culprit just as much as the ladies Haniver. My head tells me I shouldn’t forgive his crimes, but who am I to judge? I’m no god, and I’m no lawmaker. I want to know how he felt about it all, was he keenly interested in the proceedings, did he feel trapped? Did he even try to stop them?
 
The journal sits atop my bedsheets.
 
I’ve been given some time alone, graciously. I think the others feel awkward around me, after what happened last night, and how I … crumpled. It’s not like me, to be the one needing reassurance or showing weakness. I’m the silly guy, the one people should be able to trust to depend on. I bury my head in my pillow and groan, wallowing in my misery just one more moment. The hammering headache isn’t really helping, but at least the pain is physical, manageable. I believe I could try to channel the ocean to alleviate some of the pain, but the suffering feels…proper, for now. I’m hungry.
 
The journal sits atop my bedsheets.
 
Ma always told us to respect other people’s privacy. We didn’t listen of course, most of the time. But it’s her voice in my head telling me I shouldn’t read Valerian’s most vulnerable, personal thoughts, because those have not been meant for my eyes. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t respect such a basic boundary? The thoughts disgusts me. And yet, there’s a sense of ‘what if’ - what if he is dangerous, what if I’ve miscalculated him, what if by not reading his journal I’m condemning other people to danger?
 
You have a hero complex, you asshat. “Look here, here comes the big tall blue guy, here to save the day!” Grow up.
 
Ma talked about the new priests. How they’re dangerous.
 
I open the book.
 
 
 
 
 
 
I close the book.
 
 
 
 
Who is Marius, anyway? I don’t need to know that. I know his journal contains answers to many of my questions, but I don’t need to know any of them. What a fool I am, thinking this could have even meant anything, holding my heart in my sleeve when I’ve known this man for less than a week. This was nothing but a tumble in the sheets, a fun vacation tryst, nothing less nothing more. It happens. I’m not above it, it’s not like I’ve never had fun with people whose names I don’t even recall anymore, at ports I don’t know, where we both know there’s no future to be had together. What kind of a name is Marius? I’m sure the man must be boring.
 
It feels like there’s a thousand ants running under my skin, and I know it’s part anger but mostly just shame. I shouldn’t have read the book, I knew it wouldn’t be for my eyes. I saw the red-hot metal lid of a pot and lifted it anyway, and now my fingers are burnt. And I can only blame myself for it.
 
I don’t feel like waiting for breakfast. It’s like every muscle in my body needs to move to distract me from this Marius guy, and honestly? It’s what I do best, listening to my body without really thinking about it much further. I’m still feeling petty and although I know it’s misdirected, I don’t leave a note for the others to find. Instead I dress up and plan to head down to the castle grounds. I could go for a jog. As I dig through my belongings for relatively clean clothes, a slip of paper falls out.
 
“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened. Let me know if you need anything. - L”
 
Huh. The handwriting is fancy, and it takes me a moment to even decipher what it says. My own hand is far less extravagant, and I hate how it makes me feel stupid in how long it takes me to read the simple note. It must be from Luciano, he’s the only one with enough money to have this kind of a script. It’s… oddly warming, to know that he cares about me to the extent that he’s worried about my feelings. I wonder what he means by this. I fold the note again, and put it back in my rucksack. I don’t want to lose it.
 
At least the sea is constant, and the crash of the waves against the rocks is a familiar comfort. It’s a nice, sunny day outside, and the sea is glittering in the sunlight. There’s not a cloud in sight, and the seagulls are screeching loud and clear. The island is not very large, so making my round doesn’t take too long - but it is hot enough to break sweat. I’ve passed one of the coves earlier, and double back in search for it. The sea seems calmer there, the currents broken up by the large rocky formations. Safe enough for a dip. I realise it’s close to the collapsed pier, where the underwater tunnel is still open. I’ve already swum here before, it should be safe.
 
I leave my clothes on the rocks, weighing them down with my boots, and dive in. The water helps, the sea taking me back like I belong there. For a while, I don’t think about anything, just let the water carry me. I dive, checking the bottom of the cove and find it just as rocky as the pool inside the cave. Nothing particularly interesting. When I resurface, I see a familiar figure out on the pier - she’s still blue unlike before the masquerade, but I feel like a lot of people have shown their true colours on this island. Quite literally, in Belinda’s case. I wave to her, and she waves back. Behind her, I see a small group of people making their way down to the rocky beach. I spot Rusalka with their horns, Luciano’s blond hair catching the sun.
 
I may be predictable in my ways.
 
Belinda gracefully looks away as I dress up once more, and sit on the wet stone to keep her company. We chat for a while, about… Valerian, and about her reasons for being at the castle. She surprises me (us, by now, as the others have made their way down to the pier as well) by telling that she isn’t really a servant of any noble - and I can’t fault her for that, as I tell her that neither am I. Though she’s probably guessed that by now, knowing that I “work” for my sibling. Not really something the nobles would do, is it. Her teacher has tasked her to come here. I find that curious, but she refuses to tell more than that. The pearls she’s given me have been her teacher’s doings, and for that I thank her.
 
I’m curious to know more about the locket, he obvious resemblance to Carlisle. Belinda shares that she’s actually born on this island, and that… sort of confirms it, that she’s the daughter who perished in the accident. Except she’s here, alive and breathing. Someone had found her on the beach, and taken her off the island to the care of her now-teacher. Ever since the incident her hair has never dried and her skin has taken the hue of the ocean. A blessing, I think. God of the Sea may take lives, but he also gives them. Sometimes, you’re meant to do something more, and your time isn’t quite yet. I ask her about Lady of the Tides, but Belinda doesn’t know her. That’s… a relief, really.
Luciano asks whether she knows more about the previous priest who served the Hanivers, and she shares that she’s attended the festivities before, her father telling her not to eat the seafood. For a time, Harold and Valerian worked here together, but the older priest eventually departed for the Capital, leaving Valerian in charge. She tells us we ought to be careful of She Who Has Many Names, as people who worship her have been doing awful things in her name. Lady of the Tides, She Who Brings Ruin… She Who Has Many Names. I feel like they’re all connected, they could be the same entity. People certainly have been doing awful things in Her name here.
 
Magic is inherently dangerous, but now, with the worrying signs of this new faith’s upsurge… the risks are even worse than before.
 
We talk a bit, about missed connections, about whether she should find Carlisle before we’re heading off this island for good. I tell her she should go find him, have a chat. Tell him that she’s his daughter, and how she survived. It is an end of an era for him here, after all. A lot of new beginnings, and perhaps that will bring them both solace, having a family member back in your life. She thanks me and says she’ll think about it. Before we leave, I ask her for an address. I’ve come to consider her a friend, and I hope she has, too. I would like to keep in touch, even after we both leave this island behind.
 
As we head back, we talk about attending the final feast. They’re still going to make it happen, and although the main course of the evening has been… omitted, the servants are still willing to make it happen. Now it feels more like an actual celebration of them, the people who have kept this place running for so long. Not merely a ruse under the same guise. I notice that both Luciano and Eira grow quieter as we go. There’s still time for us to kill before the evening, and we head up to the treasury and the Ladies’ room to see if there’s anything more we can find out about them - by the gleam in Rusalka and Eira’s eyes, I get a sense that they might both be willing to accidentally slip something in their pockets. I don’t fault them, the place is absurdly extravagant, after all.
 
I don’t mention how I’ve been to these hallways before. How only a few nights before, Valerian had pressed me against a statue to kiss me, how we tried to hide from the servants walking past, quietly laughing into the same air between us. We walk past Valerian’s door, and I briefly consider going in. Perhaps a little later.
 
In the treasury and the Ladies’ Room, we find more symbols of … several gods, in fact. I hadn’t expected there to be any memorabilia of the real God of the Sea, but I find a necklace dedicated to him, as well as those for the God of the Stars. According to the myths, they were lovers, after all. Can’t fault him for that, the stars are beautiful. Who wouldn’t fall in love with someone tenderly gazing at them each night? I pick up some errant letters. I’ve been stealing personal correspondence, might as well keep at it. Who even is Marius.
 
I notice Rusalka sliding items into their pockets, certainly nothing that they’ve accidentally lost here, but I say nothing. I don’t particularly care about stealing from the rich. Nothing morally wrong there, especially when the rich are corrupt. There’s fancy dresses and pants in the wardrobe, but nothing that quite fits me, so I mostly just gaze out of the window. I tell the rest that I shall head out already, I’m going to see Valerian’s room for a bit. Luciano and the others follow me not long after, some of them with armful of clothes. I blush when I recognise the servant packing things in Valerian’s room, the door open wide. He’s holding back a smile when he fixes his gaze on the bruises I have on my throat and clavicles, both of us knowing all too well where they’ve come from. I choose to ignore the leer, we’re both adults here.
 
I ask whether Valerian is coming back, but I already know the answer. I do get an address from the guy though, a private residence in the Capital. He seems sorry that it ‘didn’t work out’. I try to not flinch at the words, but agree with him. I have something I need to deliver to him in person, and, well. We didn’t quite have the time to chat about home addresses. I try to not feel like a total creep, asking for such personal information. I could have just returned the journal here, let him pack it for Valerian. I think about whether I should at least write him a note. Once more, I feel like I’m manipulating him, what if my only way of meeting him again is if I have the journal? A decent person wouldn’t do such a thing, but I don’t know myself anymore. Decency is not really something I’ve known in a while.
I find some paper and scratch a quick note to Valerian, to find Miss Lalisa’s L’antiques in Stone Harbour if he wishes to contact me. I only cringe a little at my own shaky hand when I remember Luciano’s beautiful script, when I remember what Valerian’s educated handwriting looks like. Well, it’s not like there’s much I can do about it now.
 
I notice Luciano is looking at the portrait on his desk, the beautiful man with the glowing eyes.
 
Oh. So that’s Marius.
 
I flinch away, and I think Luciano notices my reaction, for he turns the portrait back down. We make our leave soon after that, and only when we’re back at our rooms, I notice Kazys has taken one of Valerian’s pillows with him? I tamp down the pang of jealousy and unbridled anger at him, why on earth would he ever wish to do such a thing? Instead of barking at him, I focus on getting myself presentable for the evening. It doesn’t escape my attention that Luciano dons his armour, buckling everything down with care. Eira too, seems to prepare… a little too well, for a mere dinner. The atmosphere feels almost electric. I don my pauldrons as well, the pieces of armour I’ve managed to gather for myself. Clean and oil my rapier, just in case. It’s been too long since I’ve properly maintained it, after all.
 
It’s closer to evening when we arrive at the dining hall, the great banquet all set out. There’s once again live music, an orchestra playing in one of the corners. All the tables decked out in heavy plates, candles the only light source at the tables. There’s flower bouquets everywhere, the scent of roses and wisteria overwhelming. I’m a little nervous that I’ll have to dance, because I don’t know how to. Next to me, Luciano and Eira also seem nervous, but I can’t figure out why, exactly. This is Luciano’s turf, he’s born to attend events like these, a fish in the water as he wades through small gatherings of people. A lot of people turn to look, and to be fair, I understand. He is beautiful. Right behind him, Eira follows him like a shadow. It’s her behavious that makes me think there’s something more going on than a mere party. I follow them, alert but not knowing why.
 
Luciano’s hand is on the hilt of his rapier. Not resting, but curled and gripping, ready to strike. That, alongside with Eira following him like a loyal dog, tells me there’s something they haven’t shared with us.
 
It happens before I have a chance to react - one moment Luciano is stepping around a crowd of people, the next there’s a halted scream as his blade strikes blood. I see he has found his target, the Lady Ingrosso. Before I have a chance to even draw my weapon, her bodyguards are upon Luciano, each of them stabbing him with their blades.
Around us, people are still celebrating.
 
I notice Kazys taking stock of what’s happening, and making a quick decision to refrain from the battle to instead draw the crowd’s attention to himself. Good thinking, we do not need people running away in panic, or gods forbid, joining a battle they can not handle. I see Eira jump in to aid Luciano, who is bleeding heavily. Her blade strikes true, and soon one of the bodyguards has to focus on her instead. Me and Rusalka both jump in to help Luciano. As much as I’m terrified for my little sibling’s safety, I’m glad we’re both like this, jumping in to help.
 
I feel the sea coursing through me as I ask for its help. The blades are obviously coated in some type of poison, and the sea washes it away as I touch Luciano. He’s… been better, but there’s not yet time to focus on healing him. As long as the poison has been neutralised, he shall live.
 
I don’t like killing. But I will do it, if it means my friends are safe. I still don’t know why Lady Ingrosso needs to die, but I feel like this might have been the real reason why Luciano was invited to this island in the first place. He does work for someone, after all. As much as I try to not kill, my blade draws home and I feel as it punctures through the other bodyguard’s leather armour, through flesh, and leaves him gasping in pain. I feel almost bad when he doesn’t manage to hit me back.
 
Lady Ingrosso dies quickly, but not painlessly.
 
As the remaining bodyguard has no qualms with us now that his employer is dead, we let him go. I apologise to him, but first my attention goes to healing Luciano’s wounds. He’s taken some serious damage, and it will likely leave scars even if I manage to close the wounds. I tell him to sit still and let me work, as I channel the ocean once more. I try not to think that I have his blood on my hands.
 
We work fast, Rusalka doing something clever with their magics to keep the crowd from noticing the freshly deceased. Surprisingly, Kazys manages to carry Lady Ingrosso’s body all by himself, while me and Eira pick up the heavier guardsman. We need to dispose of the bodies, and we all seem to have the same idea - the cellar in the gardens. I hate myself a little for asking whether Luciano needs to take a .. memento with him, to ensure Lady Adei that his work is done? He suggests taking a finger, while Eira’s comment on knocking out her teeth makes my stomach turn. It’s moments such as these that makes me remember I’m travelling with actually dangerous folks, and it’s good to have them on my side instead of as enemies.
 
I choose to keep watch while Luciano does whatever he needs to do. I find a birdbath to wash the blood off my hands. I do not comment when we return back to our rooms. Perhaps later.
The next few days are a blur - the weather remains good, a nice western wind to speed us on our voyage back to Stone Harbour. I find the bartender to tell him I’ve given the envelope to Carlisle, and if I slip that I’ve met his daughter, he doesn’t seem too surprised. We talk about whether this shall be the end of the yearly festivities on the island, and whether The Lord of Milan shall find other routes to travel, now.
 
I lose myself in physical work, running rope through my hands until the skin roughens and calluses. I listen to the seagulls. At night, I think about the two large seashells I keep in my rucksack, but I do not touch either of them. My own terrifies me, when I remember the agony on Valerian’s face when he touched it. The sea gives life, but it can also take it away. How vengeful can the waves be, the currents that pull you under? I already know the answer, but I refuse to think about it any further.
 
We see the mysterious island that isn’t on any maps. I make mental note of finding a map of my own, so that I can chart it there. Perhaps we can one day visit.
 
Eventually, we arrive back in Stone Harbour, now a familiar sight. I watch the sunlight hit the houses on the clifftop, the spiraling streets down to the harbour itself. The city is bustling, alive. Dozens of ships dock at the piers, and even from afar, I can see the flocks of white seabirds. It’s not so bad here, is it?
 
Before we do anything else, we head to Miss Lalisa’s, no one even questions it. Her little boutique up on the hill has become a staple, she seems like a common nominator to all of us. And almost like she’s known we would arrive, her little store has a visitor waiting for Luciano - a tiefling with fiery red hair and piercing eyes. She introduces herself as Yearning, one of Firentia’s friends? Luciano seems familiar with her. I don’t like her cunning tongue, the way she tries to pry how we managed to send the message to Lady Adei in the first place - she wishes to hire whoever was skillful enough for such spells. A shiver runs through me, I do not like the idea of Belinda getting involved in this murder network, but she’s an adult who can make her own decisions. I am not her keeper, but if I can, I shall try to warn her beforehand. And so I tell this Yearning that I may be able to contact the person in question, and receive yet another address to which she may contact if she so wishes.
 
I need to start keeping a book about this.
 
Yearning and everything she stands for gets thrown off the window of how much I care when Miss Lalisa delivers a letter to me and Rusalka - Ma’s beautiful script on the envelope. I think we’re both relieved and anxious when we open the letter, but turns out it’s just our freak of a cousin getting married. Rusalka elbows me when I make a face of disgust. Great, now there’s two freaks.
 
We all agree that we should stop by Kit’s Shoal next, it’s not too far away from here after all, and perhaps check up on the.. Possible newly-weds? We share that there’s also been some suspicious priests in the area, perhaps that might be something we should look into.
 
My heart is surprisingly light when I know we’ll be going home soon.