It was easy to let the training take over, lock her mind in a cage where the pleading and screaming couldn't get through. To push him to his knees, to press the sword to his shoulder.
Easy to drag the blade across and watch the deep crimson syrup po...
Far away in a world better known for its waters than its lands glided a ship, larger than most buildings and decorated more ornately than most palaces.
On this specific night, the Amphitrite sailed in a storm accompanied by thunder and lightning and the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the deck.
But deep down underneath the wooden deck, underneath the training facilities, and behind the weapons room stood a girl in the shadows of an office. In this office sat a desk littered with papers, walls decorated with medals, and glimmering swords and daggers. The desk faced an arched door with a metal handle and hinges in need of a good oiling.
The girl, Elizabeth Ryber, was clad in the typical leathers of the crew, with two daggers strapped to her thighs and a sword buckled to her belt. Her luscious brunette hair hung in curls over her shoulders, obstructing her view of the files strewn across the surface. She rummaged through them, murmuring to herself.
"Where are you, you little pricks," she whispered, flipping through documents on trade routes and plans for hijacking the newest band of law enforcement officers from the BAU thinking themselves brilliant enough to access the intel of the Amphitrite—which, in a way, they were. From Elizabeth.
Her eyes swept across sheet after sheet, glancing up towards the door every few seconds as if she would be able to tell when someone would enter.
Where could they be?
Other than the desk and the corresponding chair, the office was free of furniture.
Elizabeth ran her right thumb over the wooden edge of the desk, feeling around the corners. A click echoed through the office, soft enough that she barely heard it.
A drawer sprung out filled with manilla envelopes and a ring of keys. Elizabeth flipped through the folders.
Foreign Affairs.
"Aha."
She slipped it into the inner folds of her midnight, silk cape. It should have been enough information to please the officers for details on her family.
Creek.
The unmistakable sound of the hinges of the door as it slowly swung open.
The pitter-patter of the rain trickled in, echoing through the squared room. The sound of the waves slamming against the Amphitrite exterior, along with the occasional thunder shaking the room, sliced through the silence Elizabeth had adjusted to. She crouched down, hiding in the shadows of the room.
If she was caught with the missing file, she wouldn't see the light of day.
So she waited. And waited.
One minute. Two. Ten.
Elizabeth silently unsheathed a dagger. She peered around the edge, tensing her muscles. She sprang up, whipping her head around, dagger raised.
The room was empty except for a small, white feather sitting on the rug. The feather would be from Huxley, Elizabeth knew, an old friend she had made growing back at the Warehouse.
Elizabeth and Huxley started off rivals in their training, both trying to outsmart the other. Elizabeth wouldn't wake Huxley in time for their runs and Huxley would teach her the wrong thing when she returned from punishment. By twelve they realized they were better off fighting together. Not to mention, Elizabeth enjoyed spending time with Huxley and usually stole a portion or two from him during lunch. Not that she would ever tell that to him.
By fourteen, they realized they would be sent off in the world without means of communicating with each other, so they developed a code: a white feather from the small hens living in the basement of the Warehouse.
"Huxley?" Elizabeth said into the darkness.
No response.
Get yourself together, Ryber. She knew better than that.
Elizabeth quickly pressed the drawer back in, careful to spin the chair back to its position when she entered the office.
Six chimes rang, signaling bedtime. Within the next hour or so, all the crewmates would pile into their bunks. She was behind schedule.
Slipping through the door, Elizabeth checked the office once more. No changes. As if no one was ever there. Just like magic.
She could only hope the Warehouse was alright until the Amphitrite docked for the week and she could check on it. Until then, she would have to stay in the shadows, get her job done, and not raise attention.
Something Elizabeth was comfortable with, for once.
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helloooo! i hope you guys enjoy this story. it's going to be a short story (about six parts if my planning doesn't mess up, which it probably will).
i wrote this story a few years ago for an English class, but recently came across it again.
elizabeth is so girlboss and i truly do love her as a character and hope you do, too.
please comment stuff and message me your thoughts! i love hearing what you guys think about my stories!
