𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 | ❝Monsters don't get happy endings.❞
Rennen of Skellige was a cold-blooded killer, an assassin from the mysterious Dark Brotherhood. She liked to think that a life of blood and bruises was what she was made for, a life that was...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE BERSERKER WAS A GRAND galleon made out of oak and pine with three masts; the mainmast flew the flags of Skellige and Clan Tuirseach, a mixture of brilliant silver and white against teal. The ship was the pride of the clan because it did not only hold many crewmembers and treasures but it was a marvellous warship that had won many battles. It had been passed down from father to son, commanded by captains who knew the waters just as well as they knew their own skin.
At that moment, it was commanded by a man named Vathars Craggson. He had been a part of the crew since Torgeir Tuirseach was a boy of sixteen winters. The captain's hair had gone from deep black to grey to a white that resembled the clouds, the wrinkles deep in his skin and forever imprinted by the salt of the waters, yet the man moved as if his age did not matter and his bones did not ache. Vathars Craggson was no mere captain, but a man that cared deeply for his crew and the people of the isle.
His laugh echoed through the ship, pushing towards the waves with the wind. "Rennen!" He said her name loud and clear, a name that was full of memories of a child full of scars running through the deck. "How long has it been, leanabh?"
Rennen allowed a smile to form on her lips as she grabbed the man's forearm in her hand as a sign of greeting and respect. "Too long," she said. "I thought you would have been buried at sea when I returned to An Skellig."
He laughed, loud and clear and full of joy. "Years don't matter to this old man," he said as he ambled to stand by the side of the ship. He leaned his arms against the gunwale and glanced around, his eyes focusing on the doors that lead to the captain's cabin before he turned back to her. "Why did you come back, leanabh? You said you would never return to the isle." His voice became lower, serious.
She leaned beside him, her eyes focused on the vast blue sea in front of them. "There are too many questions left unanswered," she responded. "I don't think I could die peacefully without answers, Vathars."
"What questions?"
She wrung her hands together and inhaled deeply, the salty air sinking deep into her chest. "My mother. . ."
He wiped his head in her direction, his long hair hitting his cheek. "You-your mother?"
"My father told me she died right after my birth. According to him, she didn't even have a chance to hold me before she succumbed to death." Rennen pushed a few strands of hair away from her face and knew she would need a bath as soon as they landed to get rid of the salt that adorned both her skin and hair. "Idra has always been a kind woman to me, but she is not my mother. . ."
Vathars sighed and nodded. "Idra is a kind woman," he agreed. "She was angry when Torgeir brought your mother to the castle, but the anger was not directed at your mother." Another sigh left his mouth. "Idra Tuirseach is too kind of a woman for the savage life of a Skelliger, but perhaps that kindness is what makes her a good person."
