Vengeance (Pt. 2)

Vengeance (Pt. 2)

Storms ravaged the promontory, grey skies swirling in turmoil. The pebble beach was strewn with all manner of debris: timber, line, tackle, crates, bodies – living and dead – and shattered sections of ship. By some miracle of the currents the prow of the Tempest had run aground on the northern side of the promontory, the winged goddess that served as her figurehead raising her fist, perhaps in despairing rage, at the tumultuous sky. The same oddity of the currents had seen fit dump the prow of the Acdrenc Stefna, still wreathed in its gilding, on its side on the south beach of the promontory. The gold glinted sullenly in the grey light, and was stained with the blood of seamen.

Atop the promontory stood a lone figure, her skirts flapping around her in the gale. Her hair was tied back, but the ponytail flew freely in the wind. She cast about with her eyes, seeking what she knew must be upon the shore. At last she saw it, a glimmer of gold and a green jacket. Crying out in grief, she made her way hurriedly to the scree that cascaded to the shore. Her bare feet slipped and slithered on the wet stones as she made her way down, often falling and crawling, but never slowing. To her it seemed to take an age to reach the shore line, but finally she was by Doran’s side.

She closed the locket in his hand, which matched the one about her neck, and cradled his head in her lap. She bent over him, smoothing his matted hair, and brushing away the sand and grit that caked his ruined body. She wept then, her tears mingling with the rain.

Slowly though, her grief was replaced by something red and raw, a primal rage that filled her belly and heart and made her whole body ache as though something within her sought release. She screamed, her face to the sky, her hands still cradling the head of her beloved. Her scream went on, passing from rage to something more. Lightning flashed, and the pebbles around her began to shake, some rising from the ground. The sea leapt up, but no water fell upon her or Doran. It washed away all else but them and the prow of the Tempest. As suddenly as it started, her scream stopped, and she slumped over her beloved’s body.

She did not notice his wounds heal, nor his leg reset itself. She did not feel him begin to breathe, nor see his eyes open. She did feel his hand on her face, and his kiss on her brow. She looked down at him, her eyes awash with tears. She murmured his name, and he smiled slightly. Then, he looked harder at her and he paled, struggling and trying to pull away.

“My love, what is the matter?” she asked.

“Your eyes,” croaked Doran, “They are not your own.”

Renee rose from the pebble beach and made her way over to a nearby rock pull. There was little daylight at all in this storm, yet when she looked in the pool she saw clearly what had so shocked her beloved. Her eyes, normally hazel, shone with an inner fire, a cold vortex of blue light.

She raised her eyes to her face, touching her cheeks. Despite the weather, they were hot to the touch. She closed her eyes, and felt the power that had filled her still dwelling deep within. It was hidden, and seemed shut away. She probed at it as one might probe at a sore tooth, gingerly and almost unwillingly. The power responded, growing and filling her mind with noise, heat, and rage. The rage was like a ball of hot lead that surged within her breast. She could feel herself shaking as the rage seemed to take root in her heart.

She turned to Doran and said in a voice that was not her own, “I have granted you a second life. Use it well, and begone from my sight.”

Doran, confused and afraid, turned tail and ran, tripping repeatedly as he made his way up the scree of the promontory.

Deep within the recesses of her own mind, Renee battled with the being controlling her. She managed to find her voice, “Who are you?”

“Vengeance,” came the reply.

“What are you?”

“Vengeance.”

“Why are you here?”

“You called for me. Your grief and rage brought me into this world. Your body, so rent with grief, was a vessel which offered me sanctuary.”

Renee sank to her knees, sobbing, “Please, let me be.”

Vengeance filled her breast with greater heat as she replied, “No, now that I have come I see that there is much work for me.”

From the promontory, Doran watched as the woman who was once his beloved walked across the shore and into the ocean, steam rising around her as she walked deeper and deeper. He watched until she had vanished beneath the waves, then fled.