The Queen of the Waves

9: remembering History

Bastian's intrigue was so captured by Louis' accidental inquisition of Mara that he forgot all about the little stowaway.

He had heard very little about the people of Sousmonté, only that they had been invaded and destroyed some 10 years ago. But now that Louis was interested in her heritage, so was Bastian.

"Why were you asking her about her name?"

"It-its a derivative of Amara, a traditional name for women in that district, sir. It just peaked my interest because it is said that all traces and heritage of the Sousmonté people was destroyed... but obviously not, sir."

"Hmmm," Bastian leant back on a barrel and stared at the man, "and you think it's significant?"

"No, no not at all, sir. My father used to talk about the warriors there, her name just sparked my memories."

Bastian nodded and politely thanked the man before walking back towards the cabin where the little stowaway had run as soon as the questions became difficult.

He rapped his knuckles abruptly on the wooden door, he was certain there was more to this story than just Mara's excuse about a distant relative.

"Mara!" He shouted, rattling the doorknob, "are you ok?" He checked after a second, deciding not to always be so heavy handed when dealing with this woman.

"She's fine, Bas!" Bayen's voice called back, making his first mate jump back in surprise. "You can go about your normal duties now."

Bas nodded to no one in particular and sharply turned on his heels. He had been neglecting his regular duties the past few days as Mara had rocked the ship's routine to the core.

"Mara, Mara, talk to me." Bayen begged as Mara sobbed pitifully into his arms. He had walked past the cabin and heard her weeping, unable to ignore the sadness he had entered with the desire to comfort her.

"Did someone say something to you?" He growled out, "did someone do something to you?" His tone was full of venom as he feared the worst.

"No, no," Mara chocked out frantically, not wanting to get Bas or Louis in trouble for nothing, "I'm sorry, I j-just heard overheard something that made me think of my parents."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Bayen gently prompted, stroking his hand down her windswept hair.

"They're gone." She murmured, "they've been gone for years, but it still hurts, why won't it stop hurting?"

Bayen sighed heavily before shifting back away from Mara so they could look at each other face to face.

"Pain won't be ignored Mara, you have to feel it."

"And then will it get better?" She asked hopefully, shifting closer still to the hunched figure of the kindly Captain. A man who she secretly, even to her own conscious, hoped could become some form of balm to the open wound her father left behind.

Bayen frowned heavily and abruptly stood up without answering her question. Mara watched with a puzzled expression as he walked across the cabin, towards the desk, and unlocked one of the drawers.

After a few seconds of searching, he reappeared with a small piece of parchment clutched in his hand carefully.

"What's this?" Mara questioned gently, because of the nature of their conversation moments before Mara sensed that this topic would need to be handled with care and delicacy.

"My family." Bayen replied, his voice chocked with emotion as he carefully unfolded his hand to reveal the work on the paper.

Sketched onto the faded yellow paper was a picture, drawn with love, of a woman holding a baby in her arms.

"Is this your wife?" Mara asked softly, her finger hovering over the woman with the beautiful smile.

"Yes, my Calla. And this is my daughter."

He points to the babe in her arms before sighing heavily.

"I lost her in childbirth, my daughter days later."

Mara gasped in pain and moved closer to the aching heart of Bayen. She rested her head cautiously on his shoulder, when he didn't react she decided to keep it there.

"It was 25 years ago, but the pain hasn't left. But Mara," he spoke softly, his tone now actively directed towards their previous conversation, "I think it's important that it's there. Because if it's gone, it means I've forgotten them."

"I-I never thought about it like that." Mara sniffled and rubbed under her nose to free it of tears.

"It took me a while to see it like that too, almost 20 years." He finally admitted.

Deep in his heart, he suddenly realised that telling Mara about his lost family brought them alive in his mind once again. He wanted to tell her more, more about his beautiful Calla. He wanted to tell her how she looked the exact image of his daughter in his mind.

He wanted to tell her all these things, but instead he kept his mouth firmly shut, as did Mara.

Or at least, she kept silent until something suddenly dawned on her.

"These, these clothes I'm wearing.... were they your wife's?"

Bayen cleared his throat and looked over the outfit Mara had on today.

"Yes, they were her's. I never knew why I kept them, save for my own nostalgia and memories, but it seems like they would be needed again."

Mara smiled softly at that and gently stroked the edge of the skirt she had on.

"My mother wore a skirt like this once, I remember crawling up it as a child." She chuckled a breathy laugh at the memory and it made a candle flicker in her chest as she remembered the feeling of her mother's hands running over her face.

"Really?" Bayen laughed lightly with her, "My Calla bought it when she was pregnant because she said it looked like the kind of outfit a mother would own, I guess she was right."

Mara hummed and looked up into Bayen's deep blue eyes. They were soft with age and Mara felt trust in them.

"I liked talking to you about them," Mara bravely admitted, "it makes them feel real in the world again, instead of just in my memory."

"You know, stowaway," Bayen reached his hand over to hold Mara's, "I liked talking to you about them too."

"Maybe we should make this a daily thing then?" Mara lightly joked, but they both knew deep down that it was an event they would both enjoy deeply.

"So what was Bas hollering at you for?"

"I haven't the foggiest, I don't think your first mate particularly trusts me."

Bayen chuckled and looked at Mara's sparkling eyes. She was alive in this new environment, he couldn't help but notice how she had flourished away from Ciaran's cruel influence.

All Bayen knew was that Mara could be trusted on the Golden Promise.

In her he saw the daughter he had lost and he didn't want to lose her as well.