《Tide bound》


 Waking up

    ¡°Kid¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I responded my voice thick with confusion.


    A light struck my face, quick and painful, attached to an arm


    ¡°Kid, OH THANK GOD HIS EYES ARE RESPONDING¡± The voice gasped.


    My eyes steadied, and as my vision recovered, a figure leaned in. A girl, her eyes puffy like she''d been crying. She looked relieved, almost as if she¡¯d been holding her breath waiting for me to wake.


    ¡°The smell... what is that smell?¡± I blinked, my senses still foggy. The air was thick, something sharp and antiseptic mixed with something else¡ªsomething faintly metallic. It made my stomach turn.


    ¡°rotting fish and flesh¡ªafter all, we are on a pirate ship.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡®A ship, Ethan...were on a ship¡±


    Who¡¯s Ethan? Where am I? My body¡ªeverything hurts. My eyes... they burn. What the fuck is going on?


    I turned my head, eyes falling to the floor, and a reflection appeared¡ªa young boy with long hair, draped in a cloak.


    Slowly, i stood, taking in my surroundings. Wooden beams lined the walls, the air felt damp,heavy. we were underground, tucked away in a small room. In the center of the space, a desk was nailed to the floor, its surface worn and scratched from years of use.


    The space was cramped, the walls doubling as shelves lined with bottles of alcohol, their labels etched with unfamiliar names¡ªVignoble du Cr¨¦puscule, Argent Mortel.


    The only light came from a lone lantern on the desk, its flickering glow casting restless shadows across the room.


    ¡°Ethan¡±


    I forgot about her the girl has she been watching me this whole time


    Everything went wrong. The plan¡­ Weasel betrayed us. We need a plan, Ethan.¡±


    What the fuck is she talking about?


    ¡°Wait, wait¡ªwho are you?¡±


    She frowned, her relief fading into frustration. ¡°Stop joking, Ethan. You know who I am.¡±


    I didn¡¯t.


    My head pounded, the edges of my vision blurring, my thoughts sluggish like I was swimming through fog. I tried to focus, to recall something¡ªanything¡ªbut my mind was a blank slate.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°And who is that?¡± I asked, my voice hoarse.


    Her expression darkened. ¡°Don¡¯t do this right now.¡± She stepped closer, her gaze sharp, searching my face like she was looking for a sign¡ªsome kind of recognition. ¡°You¡¯re just in shock. We need to move.¡±


    Shock? Maybe. But that didn¡¯t explain the weight in my chest, the gnawing dread that I was missing something important.


    The ship rocked beneath us. Distant shouting echoed through the wooden walls, followed by the clang of metal.


    She grabbed my arm. ¡°Ethan. We don¡¯t have time for this. Weasel sold us out¡ªthe whole crew. We have to go. Now.¡±


    Crew? Weasel? Nothing made sense. But one thing was clear¡ªwhoever she was, she thought she knew me.


    And I had no idea who I was.


    tried to stand, my legs unsteady like I was walking for the first time. The air felt heavy, thick with salt and something else¡ªfear, maybe. The distant sounds of chaos outside the room echoed louder, but I couldn¡¯t tear my focus away from the girl¡¯s hand still gripping my arm.


    ¡°Ethan,¡± she said again, her voice quieter now, more insistent. ¡°We don¡¯t have time. Please, just¡­ remember.¡±


    Remember. That word¡ªlike a jolt to the chest¡ªstirred something in me. A sliver of something familiar, but it was gone before I could grasp it. My mind screamed to make sense of it, but the harder I tried, the more the pieces slipped through my fingers.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± I asked again, more forcefully this time, shaking off her touch, stepping back. ¡°I don¡¯t know you.¡±


    Her eyes flickered with something between anger and pain, but she didn¡¯t let go of me. ¡°You really don¡¯t remember, do you?¡± She shook her head, almost pitying me. ¡°I¡ªI thought you¡¯d snap out of it. We were supposed to¡­ We were supposed to get out of here together. Now, it¡¯s all falling apart.¡± She turned, looking out the narrow window to the chaos outside, her shoulders tense. ¡°Weasel¡¯s betrayed us. The crew¡¯s turning on each other. We can¡¯t trust anyone.¡±


    I struggled to process her words, but nothing added up. Betrayed us? Crew? Weasel?


    I staggered toward the window, my body aching with every movement, but I had to see for myself. A pirate ship. Dark sails, creaking wood, the distant cries of battle, and¡­ bodies? Bodies in the water, floating by in the waves. What the hell had I gotten myself into?


    ¡°Ethan, you¡¯ve got to focus!¡± She spun back toward me. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time before they realize you¡¯re awake.¡±


    I froze. ¡°They?¡±


    She paled slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°I¡­ I thought you would know. They¡¯re not just pirates, Ethan. They¡¯re something else. Weasel¡¯s working with them.¡±


    I was struggling to keep up with the whirlwind of words. A part of me wanted to shout, to demand she explain every damn thing, but something stopped me. A deeper feeling, maybe even an instinct, told me I had to listen. She was right. Whatever was happening, I had to understand it. And I had to understand who I was.


    ¡°Who am I?¡± I whispered, the words tasting bitter, as if saying it out loud might make everything worse.


    She blinked at me, her voice softening. ¡°You¡¯re Ethan, my partner, my¡­ my friend,¡± she hesitated, her eyes flickering. ¡°But you were more than that. You were supposed to be my anchor.¡±


    ¡°Anchor?¡± The word rattled around in my head, but it didn¡¯t make sense.


    ¡°Everything¡¯s falling apart, and you don¡¯t even remember. We need you.¡± Her grip on my arm tightened again, a plea in her eyes. ¡°Please, Ethan. You have to remember.¡±


    I stared at her, searching for any clue, any thread of recognition, but it was as if I were looking at a stranger. There was a hollowness in my chest, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t fill it.


    I pulled away, pacing the small, dimly lit room. ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am. I don¡¯t know you. I don¡¯t know anything except that I¡¯m supposed to be somewhere else.¡±


    The girl stood there, silent, her jaw clenched, frustration and worry battling behind her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll remember,¡± she whispered, almost to herself. ¡°I know you will.¡±


    Something about that¡ªabout her belief in me¡ªstruck me hard. She was certain. She believed in me. But why?


    The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, followed by hushed voices. My heart kicked into overdrive. Whatever was happening, it was escalating.


    ¡°Ethan, we don¡¯t have time for this. We need to go, now.¡±


    My mind screamed at me to think, to move, to fight, but I couldn¡¯t make sense of any of it. All I could do was follow her, wherever the hell she was leading me.

 No time to remember

    The voices outside the door grew louder. Heavy boots stomped against the wooden floor, and I could hear the creak of the ship as it rocked on the waves. Whoever was out there¡ªthey were coming.


    The girl grabbed my wrist, her grip strong despite her shaking fingers. ¡°We have to go. Now.¡±


    Before I could argue, she moved swiftly, yanking open a hidden panel in the wooden wall behind the desk. It led to a narrow passage, barely wide enough for us to squeeze through. Without waiting for my response, she ducked inside, pulling me with her.


    The space was dark, lit only by thin slivers of light slipping through cracks in the wood. I stumbled behind her, my breathing uneven as I tried to keep up. My body ached, my head throbbed, but I forced myself to move.


    I had no idea what was happening, but I knew one thing¡ªstaying in that room meant death.


    We crawled through the passage, the sounds of men shouting and doors slamming echoing behind us. The ship groaned like a living thing, and I could hear distant metal scraping against wood¡ªswords being drawn.


    Finally, she pushed open another hidden panel, leading us into a lower deck filled with barrels and crates. It smelled of salt, damp wood, and gunpowder. She turned to face me, her breathing heavy.


    ¡°This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen,¡± she whispered, pressing her back against the wall like she was afraid the ship itself might hear her. ¡°This was a secret infiltration mission.¡±


    I blinked at her. ¡°What?¡±


    She clenched her fists, shaking her head as if she was trying to make sense of it herself. ¡°We weren¡¯t supposed to be caught. We were supposed to sneak aboard, sabotage the ship, and escape before anyone noticed. But¡­ something went wrong. Weasel turned on us. The crew was ready for us. Someone knew we were coming.¡±


    I stared at her, trying to piece it together, but it was like trying to force a puzzle together when half the pieces were missing. ¡°Why the hell would I be part of an infiltration mission?¡±


    She hesitated. ¡°Because it was *your* plan.¡±


    That hit me like a cannon blast to the chest.


    ¡°My plan?¡± I repeated.


    She nodded. ¡°You put this whole thing together. You knew how dangerous this ship was. You knew what they were hiding, what they were planning. You told me we couldn¡¯t let them reach their destination.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°And what exactly are they hiding?¡±


    Her expression darkened. ¡°Something that shouldn¡¯t exist.¡±


    Before I could ask her to explain, a sudden crash came from above¡ªfollowed by the sound of running footsteps. She grabbed my wrist again, pulling me forward.


    ¡°We have to get off this ship, Ethan. *Now*.¡±


    And even though I had no memory of who I was, I had no choice but to follow her into the unknown.


    We moved fast, weaving between crates and barrels, our footsteps muffled by the damp wood beneath us. My mind was racing, trying to piece together the fragments of this supposed mission, but nothing fit.


    I yanked my arm free from her grip, stopping short. ¡°No more running¡ªtalk. Right now. If this was my plan, if I knew what we were up against, then *tell me*. What are they hiding? Who the hell are these people?¡±


    She spun around, frustration flashing across her face. ¡°Ethan, we *don¡¯t* have time for this¡ª¡±


    ¡°Make time.¡± I stepped forward, my voice sharper than I expected. ¡°I woke up in a fucking nightmare. I don¡¯t know you. I don¡¯t know *me*. And you keep throwing answers at me like they¡¯re supposed to mean something, but they don¡¯t.¡± I exhaled, steadying myself. ¡°So talk. If I really planned this, then prove it.¡±


    She looked at me for a long second, her jaw tight, before finally whispering, ¡°Fine.¡±


    She glanced toward the ceiling as if listening for footsteps, then grabbed a rusted lantern off a crate, turning the wick down low. The dim glow cast flickering shadows against the wooden beams.


    ¡°This ship,¡± she started, keeping her voice low, ¡°isn¡¯t just any pirate vessel. It belongs to the *Drowned Fleet*.¡±


    Something about that name made my stomach twist.


    ¡°They¡¯re more than pirates. More than criminals. They work for something older than the sea itself.¡± She hesitated before adding, ¡°Something we were supposed to stop.¡±


    My pulse quickened. ¡°Stop *what*?¡±


    She bit her lip. ¡°The cargo. The thing in the brig. We were supposed to destroy it before the ship made it to shore.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°What *thing*?¡±


    She hesitated, then said carefully, ¡°Something *alive*.¡±


    The words hit me like ice water.


    I didn¡¯t even realize I had taken a step back until she grabbed my sleeve. ¡°You *knew* what it was, Ethan. You told me that if it reached land, it would change everything. That we¡¯d already lost too much.¡± Her fingers curled tighter around the fabric. ¡°And then Weasel sold us out.¡±


    I ran a hand through my hair, my heart pounding. ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± My voice broke slightly, and I hated the uncertainty in it. ¡°I don¡¯t *remember* any of this.¡±


    She swallowed hard. ¡°I know.¡±


    I looked at her then, really looked at her. Beneath the tension in her voice, the frustration in her eyes, there was something else¡ªsomething close to fear.


    Not fear of me. Fear *for* me.


    I exhaled. ¡°Who is Weasel?¡±


    She scoffed bitterly. ¡°A rat. A backstabber. Someone we trusted.¡±


    The floor above us groaned, voices moving toward the staircase.


    She tensed. ¡°We need to get off this ship. Once we do, we can figure out what happened to you. We can fix this.¡±


    There was an urgency in her tone that made me uneasy.


    ¡°And what if I don¡¯t remember?¡± I asked quietly.


    She hesitated just a little too long before answering.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re dead.¡±


    She turned, leading us toward a hatch near the back of the cargo hold. And despite every instinct telling me to run in the opposite direction, I followed her into the dark.


    We moved through the cargo hold, the damp wood groaning beneath our feet. The lantern in her hand cast weak, flickering light across rows of barrels and crates, their surfaces marked with strange symbols I couldn¡¯t read. The air was thick with salt, mold, and something else¡ªsomething metallic, like rust or blood.


    I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I had been here before. Not just this ship, but this moment¡ªthis creeping dread, this urgency. The problem was, I couldn¡¯t remember it.


    I tried to focus on the girl in front of me. She moved like someone used to the shadows, her steps careful, her body tense like a bowstring ready to snap.


    I still didn¡¯t know her name.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, keeping my voice low.


    She didn¡¯t stop walking. ¡°You really don¡¯t remember?¡±


    ¡°No. And I¡¯m getting tired of people expecting me to.¡±


    She let out a quiet breath, then said, ¡°Mira.¡±


    The name stirred something in me, but it was like a whisper lost in a storm¡ªgone before I could hold onto it.


    I shook my head. ¡°We were partners?¡±


    Her jaw tightened. ¡°More than that.¡±


    The way she said it made my chest feel hollow. Like I had lost something important, and she was standing here, watching me fail to recognize it.


    I didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so I kept moving.


    The ship rocked beneath us, the distant sounds of shouting and steel on steel echoing from the decks above. A fight was breaking out.


    I glanced at Mira. ¡°How many of us were there?¡±


    She hesitated before answering. ¡°Five.¡±


    I felt a pit form in my stomach. ¡°And now?¡±


    She exhaled. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    That told me everything I needed to know.


    I turned my attention to the crates around us. ¡°What¡¯s in all this?¡±


    ¡°Supplies. Weapons. Alcohol. Standard pirate fare.¡± She moved forward, running her fingers along the wooden lids. Then she stopped, pressing her palm against one with a deep red mark burned into the surface.


    ¡°But these,¡± she murmured, ¡°are different.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    I stepped closer, my pulse quickening. ¡°How different?¡±


    She looked at me. ¡°The kind of different that made you plan this whole damn mission.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t comforting.


    She grabbed a crowbar from a nearby barrel and wedged it under the crate¡¯s lid, prying it open with a sharp crack of wood. The lantern¡¯s dim light barely touched what was inside, but I could see enough.


    Dark, iron-bound containers. Smaller, coffin-like boxes, each sealed shut with wax sigils I didn¡¯t recognize.


    I took a step back. ¡°What the hell are those?¡±


    Mira didn¡¯t answer immediately. She reached in, running her fingers over the seals like she was testing their strength.


    ¡°This is what the Drowned Fleet trades in,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Not just gold. Not just stolen cargo. They deal in things that shouldn¡¯t be touched.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°Like what?¡±


    She looked up at me, her voice almost a whisper.


    ¡°Cursed things. Forgotten things. Things that were never meant to leave the deep.¡±


    Something cold ran down my spine.


    I turned back to the crate, staring at the sealed boxes inside. ¡°And we were supposed to destroy this?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Before it reaches its buyer.¡±


    ¡°And who¡¯s the buyer?¡±


    She hesitated again, and that told me I wasn¡¯t going to like the answer.


    ¡°The people funding the Fleet.¡± She paused. ¡°The ones who deal with the gods.¡±


    The air felt heavier.


    I didn¡¯t know why, but hearing that set something off deep inside me. Like an old wound torn open. I pressed a hand to my temple, wincing.


    Flashes of something¡ªdistant, blurred, like a dream half-remembered. A figure standing on a shore. Black waves lapping at their feet. A voice, low and ancient, whispering something I needed to remember.


    Then it was gone.


    Mira was watching me.


    ¡°You feel it, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked.


    I exhaled, shaking my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I feel.¡±


    She bit her lip, then grabbed my wrist. ¡°Come on. We need to move.¡±


    We slipped deeper into the ship, avoiding the sounds of chaos above. Mira led me toward a narrow corridor lined with iron doors¡ªcells.


    ¡°Why are there holding cells on a pirate ship?¡± I asked.


    She didn¡¯t answer right away. She stopped at one of the doors, pressing her ear against the wood.


    Then she whispered, ¡°Because this isn¡¯t just a pirate ship.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Then what is it?¡±


    She turned the handle slowly. The door creaked open just enough for me to see inside.


    A man sat in the far corner, shackled to the wall, his head lowered. His skin was pale¡ªtoo pale. His breath came in slow, ragged pulls.


    Then he lifted his head, and I took a step back.


    His eyes were pitch black.


    Not like darkness. Not like shadow. Like the abyss itself was staring back at me.


    Mira pulled me away before I could say anything, shutting the door carefully. She turned to me, her expression unreadable.


    ¡°This ship is carrying more than just cargo,¡± she whispered. ¡°They¡¯re bringing things back from the deep.¡±


    I ran a hand through my hair, my pulse hammering.


    ¡°And we were supposed to stop it?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Before they deliver it to the ones who paid for it.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Who are these people?¡±


    Mira exhaled. ¡°There¡¯s a name you used to say. A name that made even the worst pirates stop and listen.¡±


    I looked at her. ¡°What name?¡±


    She hesitated, then said it softly, like she was afraid the ship itself might hear.


    ¡°The Drowned King.¡±


    The name sent a shiver through me.


    Not fear.


    Something worse.


    Recognition.


    A sudden explosion rocked the ship, sending crates tumbling. Above us, men shouted orders, and the sharp ring of steel echoed through the wooden beams.


    Mira grabbed my arm. ¡°Time¡¯s up.¡±


    She pulled me toward the back of the hold, toward a grate leading to the lower decks.


    As we climbed down, my mind was still reeling.


    The Drowned Fleet. The cursed cargo. The black-eyed prisoner. The name The Drowned King.


    I didn¡¯t know why it all felt so familiar.


    But I knew one thing.


    Whatever was waiting at the end of this mission¡ªwhatever I had forgotten¡ªwas something far worse than death.


    And for the first time since waking up, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to remember.


    Mira didn¡¯t let go of my wrist as she pulled me deeper into the ship. The narrow wooden corridor ahead curved downward, spiraling into the dark, and the dampness in the air thickened. The ship groaned with the weight of the storm outside, waves slamming against the hull. The sound of the battle above us¡ªclashing swords, gunfire, dying men¡ªwas muffled, but I could still feel it, like distant thunder rolling through the floor.


    We reached a rusted metal hatch at the end of the hall, its edges lined with thick rope and symbols burned into the wood. I ran my fingers over one, feeling the ridges beneath my skin. It was some kind of sigil, but I didn¡¯t recognize it.


    I turned to Mira. ¡°What¡¯s behind this door?¡±


    She hesitated.


    ¡°The real reason we¡¯re here,¡± she said.


    A sharp, guttural scream tore through the hull. It didn¡¯t come from above. It came from below.


    I swallowed hard. ¡°That didn¡¯t sound human.¡±


    Mira pressed a finger to her lips and slowly turned the wheel of the hatch, wincing as the metal creaked. The door cracked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber lined with chains, hooks, and iron cages. A bitter, rotting smell hit me, thick enough to make my stomach turn.


    We stepped inside.


    The room was colder than the rest of the ship, like the sea itself had seeped through the wood. The lantern¡¯s glow barely touched the far walls, but I could make out rows of crates and something worse¡ªsomething writhing.


    Cages.


    Inside them, figures twitched and trembled, their bodies barely more than silhouettes in the low light.


    Mira exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°This is where they keep the ones that don¡¯t die.¡±


    My throat tightened. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    She stepped forward, gripping the lantern tightly. ¡°The Drowned Fleet doesn¡¯t just take prisoners. They make them.¡±


    She knelt beside one of the cages, holding the lantern up.


    The figure inside shifted. Its skin was stretched too tight, pale and slick, like it had been pulled from the water and left to dry. Its fingers twitched, curling into sharp, blackened claws. And its eyes¡ª


    Its eyes were nothing but abyss.


    Black, endless voids, swirling like storm-tossed water.


    My pulse slammed against my ribs.


    The prisoner¡¯s mouth opened, lips splitting at the corners, and a voice¡ªnot one, but many¡ªslithered out.


    ¡°We see you.¡±


    Mira shot backward, nearly dropping the lantern. ¡°Shit.¡±


    The thing in the cage lunged against the bars, metal groaning under its weight.


    I stumbled back. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡±


    Mira didn¡¯t answer. She grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the far wall, where a heavy wooden table was nailed to the floor.


    Scattered across it were charts, torn maps, and old documents written in a language I didn¡¯t recognize.


    Mira shoved aside a pile of papers, revealing a black-bound book with thick, uneven pages. She flipped it open, her hands moving quickly over the ink-stained words.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have much time,¡± she muttered. ¡°But you knew this was happening. You knew what they were doing. You told me we had to stop it before¡ª¡±


    A low growl echoed through the chamber.


    I turned. The prisoner was still clinging to the bars, but now it wasn¡¯t alone.


    A second figure had stirred in another cage. Then a third.


    One by one, they moved, their joints popping, their eyes opening¡ªthose endless black abysses locking onto us.


    I took a step back. ¡°Mira¡ª¡±


    She slammed the book shut. ¡°We have to go.¡±


    A wet, rattling breath filled the room.


    Then the first cage snapped open.


    The prisoner inside moved fast¡ªtoo fast. It hit the floor on all fours, its head snapping toward us.


    Mira grabbed my wrist and ran.


    We sprinted for the exit as the thing behind us shrieked, its voice rising in an unholy wail. Chains rattled, doors slammed, and the air grew thick with something heavy¡ªsomething wrong.


    Mira threw open the hatch, shoving me through first. I stumbled up the stairs, my pulse hammering, my mind screaming for answers that didn¡¯t exist.


    What were those things?


    Why did I feel like I had seen them before?


    Why did their voices feel like they were speaking directly into my skull?


    Mira slammed the hatch shut behind us, jamming the locking mechanism. Her breathing was ragged, her fingers trembling.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they¡¯re carrying,¡± she whispered. ¡°Not just relics. Not just treasure.¡±


    I stared at her.


    She looked back at me, eyes dark with something close to fear.


    ¡°They¡¯re transporting the drowned.¡±


    The ship rocked violently, and I heard a distant boom¡ªcannon fire.


    Mira snapped to attention. ¡°They¡¯re under attack.¡±


    My thoughts were still tangled, still clawing for something solid, but I forced them aside.


    I didn¡¯t know who was attacking the ship. I didn¡¯t know what we were running from.


    But one thing was clear.


    We needed to get the hell off this vessel before it sank¡ª


    Or before the things in the brig made it to the surface.


    The ship lurched, nearly knocking me off my feet. Above us, the sounds of battle intensified¡ªcannon fire, the sharp crack of muskets, the clash of steel.


    Mira grabbed my arm. ¡°We have to get topside. If the ship¡¯s under attack, this is our chance to escape.¡±


    I forced my feet to move, mind still reeling from what we¡¯d just seen. The drowned¡ªthose creatures¡ªwere they even human anymore? And why did I feel like I should have known what they were?


    We reached the end of the corridor, where a steep set of stairs led to the upper deck. Mira paused at the bottom, pressing herself against the wall.


    She peered up, then cursed under her breath. ¡°Guards.¡±


    I leaned beside her, straining to hear. Heavy boots stomped across the deck above, the rhythmic clank of armor signaling at least three, maybe four men. Their voices were muffled by the rain and gunfire, but I caught snippets.


    ¡°¡ªcontainment¡¯s been breached¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªthose things waking up¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªDrowned King won¡¯t be happy¡ª¡±


    The last sentence sent a chill through me.


    Mira turned to me, her expression grim. ¡°There¡¯s no way we can fight through them.¡±


    I exhaled sharply, trying to think. ¡°Then we don¡¯t fight.¡±


    I scanned our surroundings. The ship¡¯s interior was tight, full of shadows, crates, and hanging lanterns that barely kept the dark at bay. If we could slip past unnoticed, we had a shot at reaching the deck.


    A thought struck me.


    ¡°What if we go through the galley?¡± I asked. ¡°Most ships have a back exit leading near the captain¡¯s quarters. If we cut through, we might avoid the guards entirely.¡±


    Mira hesitated, considering. Then she nodded. ¡°Alright, but we move fast.¡±


    We darted down a side passage, the wooden planks creaking under our weight. The air thickened with the scent of old stew and burnt meat as we neared the galley.


    The door was slightly ajar. Mira pushed it open carefully.


    Inside, the kitchen was a mess¡ªpots overturned, half-eaten meals left abandoned. A small lantern flickered on a hanging hook, casting long shadows over the wooden counters.


    And then I saw him.


    A cook lay slumped against the far wall, his throat torn open. His eyes were still open, staring blankly, his mouth twisted in a final gasp. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and thick, soaking into the floorboards.


    Mira stiffened beside me. ¡°They¡¯ve been here.¡±


    I swallowed hard.


    The drowned.


    Had one of them escaped?


    I took a step forward, careful not to disturb anything. ¡°We need to go¡ª¡±


    A low rasping breath filled the room.


    I spun.


    From behind the overturned table, something moved.


    A shadow slithered across the floor, slow and jerky, the sound of bones scraping against wood filling the silence.


    Then a hand appeared¡ªthin, clawed fingers digging into the planks.


    Mira grabbed my sleeve. ¡°Move. Now.¡±


    We bolted for the far door, shoving it open just as the thing behind us lunged.


    The door slammed shut, but we didn¡¯t stop running.


    The hallway beyond was narrower, leading toward the officers¡¯ quarters. My chest burned with every breath, my legs screaming for rest, but we couldn¡¯t stop.


    Not yet.


    The ship shuddered again¡ªa cannonball striking the hull. Wood splintered somewhere above, and the scent of smoke curled through the air.


    The battle was getting worse.


    Mira skidded to a stop near another ladder leading up. ¡°This should take us near the helm¡ª¡±


    The door at the end of the hall burst open.


    A pirate stepped through, sword drawn, his uniform bearing the insignia of the Drowned Fleet. His eyes locked onto us, and he raised the blade.


    ¡°Traitors.¡±


    Mira barely had time to react. The pirate charged.


    I moved on instinct. My hand reached for a weapon I didn¡¯t have.


    Then something clicked.


    I did have a weapon.


    Before I even processed it, I reached down and felt cold metal against my palm. A blade¡ªfamiliar, worn, perfectly balanced.


    Where had I¡ª?


    No time.


    The pirate swung. I ducked low, feeling the air whistle past my ear. My body moved like it had done this before. My grip tightened around the hilt, and before I could second-guess myself, I struck.


    Steel met flesh. The pirate staggered back, clutching his side, his face twisted in pain.


    Mira didn¡¯t hesitate. She kicked him hard, sending him crumpling to the floor.


    I stared at my own hands, my own weapon, my own instincts.


    I knew how to fight.


    Mira didn¡¯t look surprised. She only grabbed my wrist. ¡°Come on.¡±


    We climbed the ladder, bursting onto the upper deck at last.


    The storm was worse than I¡¯d expected¡ªrain lashed at my face, and the ship rocked violently beneath us. Smoke and fire filled the air, and across the deck, men clashed in brutal combat.


    Who was attacking the ship? Another crew?


    I didn¡¯t have time to wonder.


    Mira pulled me toward the rail. ¡°We jump.¡±


    I hesitated, looking at the black water below.


    Something about it sent an unnatural dread through me.


    The depths. The darkness.


    The feeling of something waiting beneath the waves.


    I shook it off. No time for fear.


    Together, we leapt¡ª


    ¡ªinto the sea.

 Adrift

    Cold.


    It hit me like a thousand knives, stealing the air from my lungs as I plunged into the black water. The sea swallowed me whole, dragging me down in a violent whirl of salt and shadow. I kicked, trying to break the surface, but the current pulled hard, wrapping around my limbs like unseen hands.


    For a moment, I thought I saw something in the depths. A shape. A flicker of movement.


    Then Mira¡¯s hand gripped my wrist, yanking me upward.


    We broke the surface together, gasping.


    The ship was burning above us, a black silhouette against the storm-lit sky. The battle raged on, but from here, it looked like chaos¡ªa tangle of figures clashing on the deck, flashes of steel and gunfire, bodies toppling overboard into the churning sea.


    Mira turned, her breath ragged. ¡°We need to swim. There¡¯s wreckage¡ªover there.¡±


    I followed her gaze. A cluster of wooden debris floated nearby¡ªbarrels, shattered planks, the broken remains of a lifeboat. We struck out toward it, each stroke burning through the cold in my veins.


    I reached for a half-sunken piece of hull, gripping its slick surface as I pulled myself up. Mira climbed on beside me, shivering violently.


    For a moment, neither of us spoke.


    The rain pounded down, the wind howled, and the ship that had been our prison sank deeper into the storm.


    Mira broke the silence first.


    ¡°Weasel was supposed to meet us.¡±


    The name sent a dull ache through my skull. I didn¡¯t know why, but it felt¡­ familiar.


    I shook my head. ¡°I still don¡¯t know who that is.¡±


    She gave me a hard look. ¡°You do. You just don¡¯t remember.¡±


    I clenched my jaw. ¡°Then maybe you should explain.¡±


    She let out a slow breath. ¡°Weasel was our contact. He got us onto that ship in the first place. The plan was simple¡ªwe sneak in, sabotage the cargo, and get out before the Fleet knew we were there.¡±


    Her fists tightened against the wood. ¡°But something went wrong. He turned on us. Left us locked in that damn brig while the Fleet set sail. If we hadn¡¯t escaped when we did¡­¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°They would¡¯ve thrown us in with the drowned.¡±


    Mira nodded.


    The weight of it all pressed against my skull. If this was true, then I¡¯d been on that ship for a reason. A mission. But I had no memory of accepting it. No memory of Weasel. No memory of who I was before waking up in that room.


    I stared at my reflection in the water¡ªlong, dark hair clinging to my face, shadows under my eyes, exhaustion clinging to every inch of me.


    Who the fuck was I?


    Mira watched me carefully. ¡°You really don¡¯t remember anything?¡±


    ¡°Just flashes,¡± I admitted. ¡°Nothing that makes sense.¡±


    She hesitated, then said, ¡°Do you at least remember the Drowned King?¡±


    The moment the words left her mouth, my body reacted. A sharp pain split through my skull¡ªimages, voices, something old stirring inside me.


    A dark shape beneath the waves.A throne, half-sunken, covered in coral and rot.Eyes like abyssal trenches, peering into my soul.


    I gasped, gripping my head. The pain faded just as quickly as it came, but the feeling remained¡ªthat name meant something.


    And it terrified me.


    Mira didn¡¯t press me for an answer. She only stared out at the horizon.


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± she said. ¡°We need to find land before the Fleet¡¯s ships come looking.¡±


    She was right.


    We scanned the darkness, searching for anything¡ªa silhouette of land, a sign of safety. But all I saw was open sea.


    Then, something new appeared.


    A ship.


    Not the Fleet¡¯s. Not burning.


    A shadow cutting through the waves, its sails barely visible in the storm. It was moving fast, heading straight toward us.


    Mira cursed. ¡°Tell me that¡¯s not the Fleet.¡±


    I squinted through the rain. The ship was different¡ªolder, its hull lined with carvings I couldn¡¯t make out. It flew no colors, bore no visible flag.


    And as it drew closer, I heard something.


    Not the wind. Not the storm.


    A whisper.


    Low. Ancient. Calling from the depths.


    My stomach turned.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a normal ship.¡±


    Mira reached for the knife at her belt, even though we both knew it wouldn¡¯t do much against whatever was coming.


    The ship slowed as it neared us, its prow cutting through the water with unnatural silence. A heavy mist curled around it, swallowing the light.


    Then, a voice rang out over the waves.


    ¡°Adrift in the storm, are you?¡±


    A figure stood at the bow, draped in a tattered captain¡¯s coat, his face hidden beneath the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat.


    I couldn¡¯t see his eyes.


    But I felt them.


    Watching.


    Knowing.


    My grip tightened on the wood beneath me.


    Mira whispered, ¡°Ethan¡­ I don¡¯t think we have a choice.¡±


    The ship loomed over us now, ropes already being lowered.


    The captain tilted his head.


    ¡°Climb aboard, if you value your lives.¡±


    Something in my gut twisted. Every instinct screamed at me to run¡ªbut where? There was nothing but open sea.


    Mira met my gaze.


    ¡°What do we do?¡±


    The storm howled around us, the sea churned, and the whispers from the depths grew louder.


    I took a breath.


    And reached for the rope.


    The storm was easing, but the cold stayed buried in my bones. Mira and I clung to the wreckage, the sea stretching endlessly in all directions. The burning remains of the Drowned Fleet¡¯s ship drifted further away, flames hissing as they met the waves.


    I tried to focus on my breathing, but my mind wouldn¡¯t stop spinning.


    Everything felt wrong.


    The flashes of memory. The whispers in the dark. The way my body remembered how to fight, but my mind didn¡¯t.


    And now, a ship had appeared from nowhere, its sails untouched by the storm, its captain speaking like he¡¯d been waiting for us.


    Mira gripped my arm, her voice low. ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    The ship loomed over us now, ropes dangling like nooses. The mist around it thickened, curling over the water, seeping into my skin.


    The captain stood still at the bow, hat low over his face. Behind him, figures moved along the deck, shadowed against the lantern glow.


    Mira squinted up at them. ¡°I count at least ten¡ªmaybe more. Armed.¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°Pirates?¡±


    ¡°What else?¡± she muttered.


    The captain¡¯s voice cut through the wind. ¡°Decide quickly. The sea does not wait for the lost.¡±


    A shiver crawled up my spine.


    Something about him unsettled me. It wasn¡¯t just his presence, or the eerie calm of his ship¡ªit was the way he spoke. Like he knew exactly who I was.


    Mira¡¯s fingers tightened around my wrist. ¡°I don¡¯t trust this.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    But what choice did we have?


    I glanced at the empty horizon, then back at the ship.


    Even if we survived the night, the Fleet would send out search ships by dawn. And if the drowned were truly waking up¡­


    I swallowed the lump in my throat. ¡°We climb.¡±


    Mira hesitated, then gave a sharp nod.


    We grabbed the ropes. They were damp and coarse against my hands, but sturdy. With aching limbs, I pulled myself up, the wood of the hull slick beneath my boots as I climbed. The ship barely moved beneath me, steady as stone¡ªtoo steady for the storm that had just passed.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    When I reached the top, strong hands grabbed me and hauled me over the rail.


    I hit the deck hard, rolling to my feet out of instinct. Mira landed beside me a second later, her dagger already in her hand.


    I got my first good look at the crew.


    They were pirates, no doubt about it¡ªtattooed and scarred, armed with pistols and cutlasses. But something was off. Their faces were shadowed, their eyes dark and unreadable. Some wore masks, others had bandages wrapped around their hands like they were covering wounds.


    And then there was the captain.


    Up close, he was taller than I expected, broad-shouldered beneath his tattered coat. The hat still obscured most of his face, but what I could see was sharp¡ªhis jaw lined with old scars, his skin tanned and weathered.


    His presence was heavy, like the weight of a storm before it broke.


    I met his gaze¡ªor at least, where I thought his eyes should be.


    His voice came slow. ¡°Ethan.¡±


    The way he said my name made my stomach drop.


    Mira tensed beside me. ¡°How do you know him?¡±


    The captain ignored her. He took a step closer, and the mist thickened, swirling around his boots like smoke.


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember, do you?¡± he asked.


    The whispers in the air returned.


    I clenched my jaw. ¡°Should I?¡±


    He studied me for a long moment. Then he exhaled, almost like he was disappointed.


    ¡°No,¡± he murmured. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    The crew shifted behind him, watching, waiting. They weren¡¯t acting like pirates who¡¯d just picked up strangers at sea. There was no laughter, no jeering. No sizing us up for what we were worth.


    They were expecting us.


    I swallowed. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    For a moment, I thought he wouldn¡¯t answer.


    Then, he reached up, tilting his hat back just enough for me to see his face.


    His eyes were unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen¡ªblack as the abyss, but not empty. There was something inside them, shifting, moving.


    Like the depths of the ocean itself.


    He smiled, slow and sharp.


    ¡°I am Captain Rhaegor Vale,¡± he said. ¡°And this is my ship¡ªThe Black Tide.¡±


    Mira took half a step back, grip tightening on her dagger.


    I exhaled, forcing my voice to stay steady. ¡°Never heard of you.¡±


    His smile didn¡¯t fade. ¡°No. But you should have.¡±


    The wind howled, the ship creaked, and somewhere deep in the hold, something scraped against the wood.


    I didn¡¯t know if it was my imagination.


    I really, really hoped it was.


    Vale turned away, waving a hand. ¡°Bring them below. They need rest. We have much to discuss.¡±


    The crew moved. Two men stepped forward¡ªone of them missing an eye, the other with a jagged scar down his throat. Their grips were firm as they led us across the deck.


    Mira shot me a look, but didn¡¯t resist. Not yet.


    As we moved, I glanced back at Vale. He stood at the bow again, watching the sea like he was listening to it.


    Or maybe¡­ speaking to it.


    A knot of unease settled in my gut.


    Who the hell was this man?


    And why did I have the sinking feeling that he knew more about me than I did?


    The crew led us below deck, the air growing heavier as we descended. The wooden stairs groaned under our weight, and the deeper we went, the stronger the scent of salt, damp wood, and something else¡ªsomething metallic.


    Blood.


    I exchanged a glance with Mira, but she said nothing.


    The passage opened into a dimly lit corridor, lanterns swaying with the ship¡¯s movements. The walls were lined with storage crates, some marked with symbols I didn¡¯t recognize¡ªjagged runes, almost like claw marks.


    The crew members guiding us stopped at a heavy iron-banded door. One of them, the man with the scarred throat, unlocked it and pushed it open with a grunt.


    ¡°Inside,¡± he rasped.


    Mira crossed her arms. ¡°And if we say no?¡±


    The man with the missing eye grinned. ¡°Then we toss you back in the drink.¡±


    I clenched my jaw. We were outnumbered, outmatched, and exhausted. Fighting now was a good way to end up dead.


    I stepped inside. Mira followed reluctantly.


    The room was small but not cramped, with a low ceiling and a single lantern hanging from a rusted chain. A pair of hammocks swayed gently against the walls, and in the corner, a small wooden table sat beside a locked chest.


    The door slammed shut behind us. The lock clicked.


    Mira exhaled sharply. ¡°Great. Now we¡¯re prisoners on a different ship.¡±


    I ran a hand through my wet hair, glancing around. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel like a brig.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Feels like a cage.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t argue with that.


    I sat on the edge of the table, flexing my aching fingers. Every muscle in my body felt bruised, but exhaustion wasn¡¯t going to help us.


    Mira paced, her expression tight. ¡°They know you. That captain¡ªVale¡ªhe knew your name, Ethan.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    I had no answer.


    Something about him was wrong, though. Not just the way he spoke. Not just the way the crew followed him like ghosts.


    The ship listened to him.


    I had seen it in the way the mist curled when he moved, how the storm had calmed just before they arrived. The Black Tide wasn¡¯t just a ship. It was his ship.


    And it felt¡­ alive.


    Mira dropped into the hammock across from me, rubbing her temples. ¡°This was supposed to be simple.¡±


    I looked at her. ¡°Was it?¡±


    Her jaw tightened. ¡°Weasel was supposed to get us in. We sabotage the cargo. We leave. That was the plan.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°And the cargo?¡±


    She hesitated. ¡°People.¡±


    I froze.


    ¡°They were transporting prisoners,¡± she said, voice quieter now. ¡°Not just any prisoners¡ªones with black eyes. The kind that don¡¯t speak. The kind that don¡¯t scream.¡±


    A chill crept down my spine.


    I had seen them. Locked in the brig of the Drowned Fleet¡¯s ship, staring through me.


    The whispers returned, crawling under my skin.


    Mira leaned forward. ¡°That¡¯s why we were there, Ethan. To stop it.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°And what were they?¡±


    Her expression darkened. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know.¡±


    The ship creaked. A heavy footstep sounded outside.


    We went quiet.


    The lock turned.


    The door swung open, and Captain Vale stepped inside.


    Up close, he was even more unsettling. His presence was too large for the room, like the walls might pull back just to make space for him.


    He took a slow step forward, then another. His coat trailed behind him, damp from the sea, and when he exhaled, the lantern light flickered.


    Mira stood immediately, hand on her dagger.


    Vale didn¡¯t seem to care.


    His eyes¡ªthose abyssal, shifting depths¡ªfixed on me.


    ¡°You still don¡¯t remember, do you?¡±


    My throat felt dry. ¡°Remember what?¡±


    He studied me. Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached into his coat.


    Mira tensed.


    Vale pulled out a knife.


    Not a cutlass. Not a pistol. Just a simple, old knife.


    And he tossed it onto the table in front of me.


    I stared at it.


    The blade was worn, but the hilt¡­ the hilt I recognized. Dark leather, wrapped and knotted. A small engraving near the base.


    It was mine.


    I didn¡¯t know how. I didn¡¯t know why.


    But I had held this knife before.


    I swallowed. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±


    Vale tilted his head. ¡°You gave it to me.¡±


    I stared at him.


    He said it like it was obvious. Like I should remember.


    Mira shot me a sharp look, but I barely noticed.


    Something was wrong inside my head. Gaps. Missing pieces. And now, this¡ªthis knife, this ship, this man who spoke like I was supposed to know him.


    Vale watched the realization settle in. Then he leaned down, placing his hands on the table, his voice quieter now.


    ¡°Ethan,¡± he said. ¡°You were one of us.¡±


    The air left my lungs.


    My body felt like it had turned to stone.


    Mira muttered, ¡°What?¡±


    Vale didn¡¯t even glance at her. His abyssal gaze stayed locked on mine.


    ¡°You sailed these waters,¡± he said. ¡°You fought beside me. You knew the stories of the drowned and the gods beneath the waves.¡±


    His fingers tapped against the wood.


    ¡°But then you vanished.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t breathe.


    My voice came hoarse. ¡°That¡¯s not possible.¡±


    Vale¡¯s smile was cold. ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Silence.


    The ship creaked again. The whispers in the air grew louder.


    I gripped the edge of the table, my head spinning.


    Mira glanced between us, her eyes filled with uncertainty.


    Vale straightened, taking a step back. ¡°You don¡¯t have to believe me.¡±


    He turned toward the door, but before leaving, he paused, glancing over his shoulder.


    ¡°The sea doesn¡¯t forget, Ethan,¡± he said. ¡°And neither will you.¡±


    Then he was gone, and the door locked once more.


    I stared down at the knife.


    Mira swallowed. ¡°Ethan¡­ what the fuck is going on?¡±


    I had no answer.


    Only the feeling in my gut that something old was waking up inside me.


    And it terrified me.


    The door clicked shut behind us, and the sound rang through the small room like a tolling bell. The iron lock was thick, the kind that spoke of more than just a prison. It felt... deliberate.


    Mira exhaled sharply, her hands running through her hair. ¡°Alright,¡± she muttered, pacing in tight circles. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s just¡ªjust go over what the hell just happened.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t moved. The knife sat in front of me, its weight feeling like a magnet pulling at my chest, dragging my thoughts back into places I didn¡¯t want to go. My fingers twitched toward it, but I hesitated. Something about it made my skin crawl. I knew it, and yet I didn¡¯t. I wanted to grab it, to hold onto it, but a part of me feared what it might unlock.


    Mira stopped pacing, narrowing her eyes at me. ¡°First off, you apparently used to be part of his crew? That¡¯s new. Kind of an important thing to forget, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t forget,¡± I replied, my voice grating, as if my throat was lined with gravel. ¡°I don¡¯t remember anything.¡±


    She scoffed, a small bitter laugh escaping her. ¡°Yeah? Then explain the knife.¡± She pointed at the blade, still lying on the table between us, like some kind of calling card I hadn¡¯t asked for.


    I stared at it. The knife.


    The grip was worn, familiar. The engravings on the hilt¡ªa mark I recognized as my own¡ªlooked like a fragment of a past life. Yet, that life felt like someone else¡¯s. I could almost hear the ghosts of memories, half-formed, clawing at the edges of my mind.


    I clenched my jaw. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Mira¡¯s eyes flashed, her brow furrowing in disbelief. ¡°You can¡¯t or you won¡¯t? Because I¡¯ve been thinking, and I have a feeling you¡¯re not telling me something. Something about who you were. Something about this.¡± She jabbed a finger at the room, the ship, the storm outside¡ªeverything.


    I rubbed my temples. The headache had come back full force. ¡°I don¡¯t know who I was before, okay? I don¡¯t know what Vale meant, or what the hell happened on that ship. But I¡¯m sure as hell not the man he thinks I am.¡±


    Her gaze softened, but only slightly. ¡°Then tell me this: why does this feel like we¡¯re all part of some sick, twisted play?¡± She crossed her arms, her voice dropping into a more serious tone. ¡°You remember anything else? Even a tiny thing?¡±


    I swallowed, eyes drifting to the knife again. ¡°Flashes. Images. A storm, a ship¡­ a voice.¡± I let the words hang in the air for a moment, my chest tightening. ¡°It wasn¡¯t¡­ human.¡±


    Her eyes widened, and I could see the calculation in her mind¡ªthe same one I¡¯d seen too many times before, like when she was picking apart an enemy''s strategy. ¡°The voice.¡± Her voice was barely a whisper. ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it was, but it¡­ it wasn¡¯t of this world. And whatever Vale thinks I am, I¡¯m not that.¡±


    Mira ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think you are. But I do care what you¡¯ve done.¡± She paused, her expression hardening. ¡°The Drowned Fleet isn¡¯t just some ragtag group of pirates, Ethan. They worship something. Something beneath the waves.¡±


    I felt a chill run down my spine.


    She continued. ¡°Some say there¡¯s a king down there¡ªThe Drowned King¡ªand his followers have been dragging men to the depths for centuries.¡±


    I recoiled slightly, the image of that broken, submerged ship flashing in my mind again. The crew¡ªthose with the hollow, empty eyes. The whispers.


    ¡°The Drowned King isn¡¯t a myth,¡± Mira said, her voice darker now. ¡°And whatever Vale is, he¡¯s not just a pirate. He¡¯s something else.¡±


    My mind raced, but nothing made sense.


    I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. ¡°So why the hell did Vale say I was part of them? That I was one of his?¡±


    Mira¡¯s gaze was sharp. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But if he¡¯s telling the truth, then it means you were once part of this damn cult.¡± She spit the word out like it tasted foul. ¡°And if you don¡¯t remember, maybe that¡¯s part of the curse.¡±


    My breath caught. Curse.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she added, ¡°the sea itself is trying to keep you from remembering.¡±


    I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. ¡°This is insane.¡±


    Mira shot me a hard look. ¡°Is it? The ocean doesn¡¯t forget, Ethan. And it¡¯s not just the Fleet. It¡¯s the gods. The ones they worship. The ones beneath the waves.¡±


    I ran a hand through my hair. ¡°I don¡¯t remember¡­ anything. All I know is that I¡¯m here. On this ship. With you. And Vale¡­¡± I paused, my thoughts scattering. ¡°Vale is using something¡ªsomething dark.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°So you think you can just walk away from this?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°What are we supposed to do? We¡¯re outnumbered and trapped. Vale doesn¡¯t want to talk. He wants to use me. He wants to make me remember something. But I don¡¯t know what.¡±


    ¡°You really don¡¯t remember anything?¡± she pressed, her voice tight with urgency. ¡°No past, no mission, no plan?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No. Just pieces. And none of them fit.¡±


    Mira¡¯s gaze softened slightly, but the worry still lingered in her eyes. ¡°Okay. Fine. Then we¡¯ll figure this out together. But you need to understand something.¡± She leaned closer, her voice low. ¡°Vale and the Fleet aren¡¯t just pirates. They¡¯re devoted. To something older than time. To a god that takes its due from those who wander too close to the deep.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling my skin prickle. ¡°I don¡¯t care what they are.¡±


    She met my eyes. ¡°You should. Because they don¡¯t care about you. And if Vale knows you, he¡¯ll want something from you. Something you¡¯re not ready for.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what I was ready for. I didn¡¯t know what was coming. But the weight of the knife against my side¡ªfamiliar, yet strange¡ªmade it clear that whatever happened next, the answers weren¡¯t going to come easy.


    The door creaked again, and we both froze.


    Mira¡¯s eyes shot to the door, and I followed her gaze. The lock clicked, turning on its own. I braced myself for whatever came next.


    The door opened slowly, and the dim light from the corridor crept inside.


    Vale stood there, his figure silhouetted against the shadows, his eyes glinting like twin pools of ink.


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember, do you?¡± Vale¡¯s voice was smooth, like velvet, but it carried a weight that pressed against my chest.


    I didn¡¯t respond. What could I say?


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he continued, stepping inside. ¡°You will.¡±


    I gritted my teeth, watching as he moved toward us. His presence seemed to fill the room, suffocating.


    ¡°Because the sea doesn¡¯t forget, Ethan.¡±


    The words hit me harder than I expected.


    The sea doesn¡¯t forget.

 The sea remembers

    The room felt smaller with Vale inside it. The weight of his words pressed down like an anchor dragging me beneath the surface. I forced myself to stand straighter, to meet his gaze, but there was something in those black eyes¡ªsomething knowing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about,¡± I said, my voice steady despite the unease curling in my gut.


    Vale smiled, slow and sharp. ¡°Not yet.¡± He turned his gaze to Mira. ¡°Have you told him anything?¡±


    Mira¡¯s arms crossed over her chest. ¡°Told him what?¡±


    Vale sighed as if he expected that answer. His fingers tapped against the hilt of the dagger at his belt. Not a threat. Not yet. But a reminder.


    ¡°This is a mistake,¡± he murmured, more to himself than to us. ¡°He shouldn¡¯t be walking around. Not with the mark.¡±


    The mark.


    I stiffened, my mind flashing back to the faint memory of the prisoners below deck¡ªtheir black eyes, the unnatural stillness in their bodies.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®the mark¡¯?¡± I asked, glancing between them. ¡°What¡¯s on me?¡±


    Vale¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°You really don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I snapped. ¡°And I¡¯m getting tired of people acting like I should.¡±


    For a moment, there was only silence. The ship creaked around us, the steady rhythm of the waves filling the space Vale left empty. Then, without a word, he stepped forward, closing the gap between us.


    Before I could move, he grabbed my wrist and yanked up my sleeve.


    A gasp left Mira¡¯s lips.


    I looked down.


    A symbol¡ªdark, swirling, and intricate¡ªwas etched into my skin. It looked almost like a crest, shifting faintly under the lantern¡¯s glow, as if it were alive.


    My breath hitched. That wasn¡¯t there before.


    I jerked my arm away. ¡°What the fuck is this?¡±


    Vale tilted his head, studying me like I was some puzzle he was close to solving. ¡°Proof.¡±


    ¡°Proof of what?¡± I snapped.


    ¡°That the Drowned King has a claim on you.¡±


    The words sent ice through my veins.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Mira took a step back, her face pale.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t even know who the Drowned King is.¡±


    Vale¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waver. ¡°But he knows you.¡±


    My hands curled into fists. ¡°Then maybe you should start talking, because I¡¯m done with the cryptic bullshit.¡±


    Vale studied me for a long moment. Then, to my surprise, he nodded.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, stepping back. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what you need to know.¡±


    <hr>


    We moved to the captain¡¯s quarters. It was larger than the room we had been in, but the walls still felt like they were pressing in. A massive table dominated the space, maps and scattered papers covering its surface. The lanternlight flickered, casting shadows that danced against the wooden walls.


    Vale stood near the window, looking out at the sea. Mira lingered near the door, arms still crossed, her jaw tight. I didn¡¯t know if she was angry or afraid.


    I sat across from Vale. He turned to face me, his expression unreadable.


    ¡°Do you know why you were on that mission?¡± he asked.


    I exhaled sharply. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what the mission was.¡±


    Vale nodded, like he expected that answer. ¡°It was supposed to be simple. Infiltrate the Drowned Fleet. Stop the shipment before it reached the King¡¯s hands.¡±


    The Drowned Fleet. That name rang in my head like a distant bell. I knew it. Even if I couldn¡¯t remember why.


    ¡°You and Mira weren¡¯t alone,¡± Vale continued. ¡°There were others with you. Fighters, smugglers, spies. People willing to risk everything to stop what was coming.¡±


    I glanced at Mira. She didn¡¯t look at me.


    Vale leaned forward. ¡°And you were leading them.¡±


    The words hit me like a punch to the ribs.


    ¡°That¡¯s not possible,¡± I said.


    Vale smirked. ¡°It is. And here¡¯s the worst part.¡± He let the words sink in before he continued. ¡°You failed.¡±


    The room went still.


    Mira shifted, arms tightening around herself.


    ¡°Something happened,¡± Vale said. ¡°Something none of us saw coming. And because of it, the King got what he wanted.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why I don¡¯t remember anything.¡±


    Vale¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°No. It doesn¡¯t.¡±


    The sea doesn¡¯t forget.


    Then why did I?


    I clenched my fists, trying to force my mind past the fog in my thoughts. If I led the mission, then I should remember something¡ªanything. But when I reached for the past, all I found was emptiness.


    Vale watched me, his gaze unreadable. Then he sighed and turned, rummaging through the mess of maps and papers on the desk. A moment later, he pulled out a folded parchment, the edges damp from the salty air. He slid it across the table.


    I hesitated, then picked it up and unfolded it.


    The parchment was a list of names.


    Some were crossed out.


    Some had symbols next to them¡ªmarks I didn¡¯t understand.


    But one name stood out, bold and unmarked.


    My own.


    Ethan Pryce.


    I looked up at Vale. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°The names of every person on your crew,¡± he said, voice quieter now. ¡°The ones who came with you on that mission.¡±


    I scanned the list again, my eyes catching on names that should have meant something¡ªbut didn¡¯t. I should know these people. I should remember them. But I didn¡¯t.


    Mira moved closer, peering at the list over my shoulder. Her breath hitched.


    Her name was there, too.


    So was another.


    Weasel.


    My grip tightened on the parchment. ¡°Weasel was one of us.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Vale said. ¡°And he¡¯s the one who betrayed you.¡±


    The ship creaked around us, the waves crashing against the hull.


    Weasel.


    Another name that should have meant something. But all I felt was a hollow space where memory should have been.


    I swallowed hard. ¡°Where is he?¡±


    Vale leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face.


    ¡°Alive,¡± he said. ¡°For now.¡±


    The room felt colder.


    For now.


    The meaning was clear.


    He wouldn¡¯t be alive for much longer.


    And if I wanted answers, I had to get to him before it was too late.