Tempest and Tide [Nikolai Lantsov]

~ After ~

[ thirteen weeks later ]

The salty sea air slaps against the boy's brow as he stares at the sliver of land receding into the distance. Perched in the rigging like a bird, his feet dangling yards above the deck, it's as if he's removed from his world. From his country.

It's just not far enough to do any good. No matter how far away he gets, the boy knows he will always come back. Ravka will always be his country and he can't give that up.

Not even for her.

Paper crinkles beneath his fingertips. The note worn soft, edges fraying from the hundreds of times he's read the few short lines, never gleaning anything new.

His other thumb runs over the thick gold band on his finger, spinning the ring against his palm. This is what he's been waiting all these months for, this one small item.

He thought it would be a bigger relief to finally have it in hand.

Getting a message to the Beyoves wasn't easy. It took weeks for his network to send the letter all the way across Ravka and weeks more for the Volkvolny to come to a port where he could get the response.

He knew he asked too much, but they couldn't say no.

Not to the Prince.

Absently he traces the falcon engraved into the ruby face. The partner ring to the one she wears, and his last desperate hope of communicating with her. Somehow.

He still doesn't know how the connection between the gems is used, or if the bond is anything more than a legend. He can hope though. Hope that it's true, that he'll be able to find her once more, if only to make sure she's okay. To see her face before him and reassure himself that she was more than a memory come to life.

Though it's been years, he remembers the story as if she had recited it yesterday. They were twelve, cramped side by side in a back passage deep beneath the heart of the castle. They had gone down there to trade legends and ghost stories, fables and secrets. 

He had been trying to scare the girl, to get her to cling to him as they sat in the darkness.

It hadn't worked. Every time he'd told her a tale, she had come back with one even more fearsome until even his skin was crawling in the dark.

Your turn, The boy had leaned forward, looking deep into her eyes.

The Blood of Beyovina The girl intoned, letting her soft words echo in the darkness and waving her fingers as if warding off a ghostly apparition.

Then she told him the story. A story of a kingdom so ancient the name was lost to memory, of twins torn from one another against their will, of magic and tragedy and rubies forged from blood and a desperate wish to be reunited. Rubies that would always allow the wearers to find one another, no matter the distance.

When she finished her tale, the girl raised her hands, letting the ruby ring on her finger glitter in what little light the passage contained, Some say the bloodstones are still with us to this day.

At first, he had dismissed it as nothing, merely the girls' latest attempt to scare him. But when his Grisha had shown him her ring aboard the Volkvolny he knew. She wasn't one for material things. She would only bring that jewel for one reason, to find her family again.

Only now, with the ring in hand, does he realize even if the legend is true, he has no idea how to use the connection between them. 

With a long sigh, the boy's gaze drifts back over the open sea. Everything reminds him of her now. The wind ruffling through his hair, the tang of salt in the air, the lines of gold streaking across the sky from the dying sun. Even though she's gone, she's everywhere. He can't escape the memories of her.