The Rose and The Briar

Chapter 1- A land of monsters

-12 years later-

Alma woke up with a start.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the texture of wood began to take shape all around her; planks and planks of wood.
She strained with all her might to keep the acid in her stomach in place, and the rocking of the room surely didn't help.

She touched the floor.
At least it seemed to be covered with a layer of fabric.

She removed the light blanket that wrapped her body, all that remained of her dress were a corset and a linen chemise, the whiteness of which had been ruined.
She rubbed her eyes and pushed back the tangled hair that tickled her cheeks.
Her fingers sank into the curls without finding her earrings.
She brought a hand to her chest.
The necklace was also gone.
She sighed.
She stood there, looking at the beams above her, only the sound of waves crashing into the hull kept her company.

What have I done?
She thought, her dark lips contracted in a grimace of pain.

She let her body fall limply back on the sheet, her hand encountered something cold and wet.
She jumped.
A layer of water had covered the floor and was flowing towards her.
Alma threw herself towards the stairs, the room tilted dangerously to the side, causing her to fall.

So that movement wasn't just in her head.

She scrambled on all fours on the rough boards, until she found herself on the deck of the small ship. At the stern a young man, soaking wet and wrapped in a ragged red coat, was holding on to the helm with all his might.

"We are taking on water!"
She tried to fight the roar of the wind in her ears, the rain slapped her face, she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Oh, good, you're awake."
Without taking his eyes off the horizon, he kicked a tin pail, making it roll towards her.
"Take that and throw out as much water as you can."

Her heart was throbbing wild.
"Mordecai, what's going on?"

"What do you think is going on? We are in the middle of a storm and we are completely off course."

Alma bit her lip, anger was replacing the initial fright.
He had no idea what he was doing.
She clenched her fists, her nails marked her soft skin.
Why had she done it?
Memories of the previous night began to hit her like waves: music, voices, hundreds of lights in the night, a passionate kiss, the warmth of a body against hers.

"Listen, princess," Mordecai's hoarse voice shook her out of her trance, "you're the one who wanted to come. I needed money, not company, so you better start using that bucket, if you don't want to end up under the sea."

With a bitter taste in her mouth, Alma stopped the rolling bucket.
As much as she regretted admitting it, that rat was right.
Well, she wanted an adventure? Now she had it, she thought as she took buckets of water, wobbling all the way from the deck to below the deck and vice versa.
Every time the boat tilted a wave of nausea washed over her.

A tremor.
Her feet slipped on the wet wood, the floor no longer supporting them, her hands tried to find the parapet but only closed around air.
Icy cold inundated her body, her eyes burned with salt water, she floated without weight nor direction in a gray vortex.

She kicked to where the gray was growing lighter.

Her lungs filled with sweet air, only to be flooded again with water.
Defying the force that pushed her down she tried to bring her head back above the waves, but every breath she gained was consumed by the effort to keep herself afloat.
The strong, fast, beats of her heart thundered in her ears, overpowering even the roar of the sea.

She glimpsed a dark mass floating in the current.
She clung to it, her nails stuck in the wood, she could barely keep her head above the water.

In the distance, where the sky was beginning to lighten, a jagged black shape stretched long on the horizon.