The Vessels

1

In a city surrounded by nothing but water you'd think she'd be able to swim.

If it weren't for the magnitude of bridges leading from one small island to the next, Brenna would be utterly and entirely screwed. It was a godsend that she lived amongst one of the only woodland patches on the island. There had been mutterings in the past, people saying she was agoraphobic, and that's why she was barely seen in public. But once again, no. She just didn't like the water. Aquaphobic? Now that was more like it, but still not quite right.

Her fear wasn't the only reason she didn't go outside often. Yes, the water terrified her, and socialisation was difficult when the people of Tearsend reflect the water itself. But there was something else about her. Asides from her very obvious difference in looks compared to the others in Tearsend, she had a mark. An impression that portrayed itself on her skin. Scarring her with her future before she could even live her life. Announcing that this is her destiny and telling her- no.

No, you can't do this.

No, you can't do that.

No, you can't be a child because you might hurt yourself.

No, you can't run around and jump from the highest cliff to see who has the biggest splash.

Just no, you can't live your own life the way you want to.

She was never allowed out, considered far too precious. Perhaps it was because she was so coddled growing up that she had this fear of water. Why she had little to no friends. No one around her except that of her guardian and her confidante. Two seperate people, mind you.

The cabin she grew up in was made entirely of spruce logs and was rather shabbily put together. It looked as if it were to be a quick fix home that ended up staying occupied for years. Edlin, the owner of said pile of logs, was a fisherwoman. No one seemingly important. Everyone had something to do with fish or water around Tearsend. It was their trade and the thing they were known best for. There was something magical about the seafood there.

Edlin had an average build with no discernable details, at least to others from Tearsend. To someone from Globale or Winden however, she was rather odd looking. Her skin stood at a steel blue, her eyes being more of a navy with a glazed over look to them. But this was nothing new in Tearsend. In fact the more 'normal' you looked here, the more you stood out.

When Brenna was little she used to reach her own chubby, baby blue hand out to Edlin and pull on her ocean like locks of hair. Instead of pulling for fun like most children she'd pull and measure it beside her own snow white strands. Absolutely mesmerised by the difference, a sign that Brenna did not actually belong to Edlin. Furthermore, a sign that Brenna did not entirely belong to Tearsend. Despite everything, they were happy. Yes Brenna had a rather closeted start to life. But all she needed was Edlin, and all the older woman needed was Brenna.

Our story starts on Brenna's twentieth birthday. The morning rays of yellow sun had begun slipping into a cloud pocket and were starting to be replaced with the grey colours of a storm. The same storm that Brenna had been having nightmares and panic attacks about for years. Her imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. It was hard for her to believe that somewhere up there was Thor, the thunder God. He was certainly making as much noise as possible amongst his goat drawn carriage.

According to Brennas teachings there hadn't been a storm in generations amongst the Islands and by the looks on everyone's faces, the teachings weren't wrong. Practically every person that'd arrived for the gathering had their heads turned up to the sky, watching in awe and fascination. All Brenna could feel however was a growing sense of dread and unease. She didn't want to be here and would give anything to run back to that old cabin she called home. But from her position at the forefront of the crowd, running away was near impossible. When you took the protection wards into account, there was absolutely no escape.