The Tides Of Aoen

Prologue

The blade whispered through the air, plunging deep into the hollow beneath his ribs. There it lay, the heart of his forgotten god- a curse unbound, pulsing with the decaying rage of despair.

~•~

A sharp thud echoed through the ship's belly, the sound reverberating against the worn wood like the crack of a distant cannon. The air in the dim cargo hold thickened with tension, the only light seeping in from the lanterns that swayed with the ship's slow roll.

Callista grunted as her back hit the rough, splintered planks of the deck, pain radiating up her spine. But she had no time to dwell on it. With a swift, practiced motion, she lashed out, her boot connecting hard with her opponent's knee. The man let out a strangled cry as his legs buckled, sending him crashing down beside her with a heavy thud.

Before he could regain his footing, Callista was already moving. She rolled to her feet, the curved dagger flashing in her hand, its steel gleaming faintly in the low light. She didn't hesitate—she brought the hilt down hard on the back of his skull, and he slumped unconscious at her feet.

Breathing heavily, she scanned the hold, her eyes sharp and focused. The way out was through the narrow passage beyond the captain's cabin. Without a second thought, she dashed toward it, her steps light despite the uneven creak of the ship beneath her.

She burst onto the deck, the salty night air slapping her face, mingling with the scent of wet wood and brine. Tall masts and tattered sails loomed overhead, casting jagged shadows across the deck. The ship swayed gently with the waves, the creaking timbers and the distant sound of crashing water the only constant.

The few crewmen who remained on deck barely had time to react. Callista moved like a shadow, ducking low, then sweeping one man off his feet with a quick strike to his legs. Another lunged at her, but she was faster—her fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling against the rail.

Ahead, at the far end of the deck, the captain's cabin loomed, a hulking structure of dark wood. Its door stood ajar, a golden glint visible just beyond the threshold. Callista's pulse quickened. The pendant—her prize—was there.

She darted forward, her eyes locked on the cabin's dark interior. But just as she reached the doorway, something heavy struck her from behind. The force drove her down hard, her stomach slamming against the rough boards of the deck. She choked as the taste of salt and dirt filled her mouth.

"Bollocks," she hissed through clenched teeth, the pain barely masking her fury.

"Well, well, Ms Callista," a smooth voice drawled from behind her, thick with amusement. "You should know better than to turn your back on a pirate."

Through the haze of pain, she twisted her neck, catching sight of him—the first mate, Lancaster, a tall man with a smirk dancing on his lips, one boot hovering dangerously close to her ribs. His eyes glinted with mockery as he stepped closer, clearly savoring his moment.

Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "You should know better than to stand so close," she breathed.

In a flash, she twisted her body, her leg sweeping out to knock him off balance. Lancaster let out a grunt of surprise as he tumbled to the deck, his smirk vanishing in an instant. Before he could react, Callista sprang to her feet, her muscles moving with fluid precision as she darted past him and into the cabin.

The pendant gleamed on a weathered table, bathed in the faint light of the oil lamps that flickered inside the cabin. It was smaller than she expected—delicate, almost fragile—but its value was unmistakable. With a triumphant smirk, Callista snatched it up, feeling the cool weight of the metal in her hand.

"Now, now," she taunted, glancing back toward the door where Lancaster lay groaning on the floor. "Do you not know never to leave your feet unguarded, Lancaster?"

The air on deck went still for a heartbeat, but it wasn't long before the silence broke. Shouts rang out from the crew that had gathered, their cheers booming across the deck. Some banged their swords against the ship's rail, while others raised their arms in celebration, voices filled with pride.

"That's our captain!" someone roared from the rigging, and a chorus of cheers followed.

Lancaster, still sprawled on the floor, chuckled as he pushed himself upright. "Well, Captain," he muttered with a grin, "undefeated as always."

Before she could respond, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind, lifting her off her feet. Callista let out a startled laugh as she was hoisted into the air, her hair whipping around her face as the crew shouted and clapped.

"To Captain Callista!" another voice rang out, this time from the quarterdeck, and the crew echoed it in unison, their voices filled with admiration.

Callista, still clutching the pendant in her hand, flashed a wicked grin as Lancaster stood before her, dusting himself off. "Care to try again?" she teased, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

He shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Not tonight," he said with a mock bow. "You've made your point."

As her feet touched the deck again, the crew surged forward, gathering around her in a wave of rough camaraderie. Hands clapped her on the back, voices congratulating her, and the energy on deck swelled with celebration.

Callista raised the pendant above her head, the gleam of victory in her eyes. "This, gentlemen," she said, her voice strong and steady, "is why you never bet against me."

Another round of cheers erupted, louder this time, the night air alive with the sound of her crew's loyalty and pride. Callista felt the weight of command settle around her like a well-worn coat.

—
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