Page 52 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)
M y steps are cautious while heading towards the discarded weapon.
No invisible wall springs into place, and at long last, my foot mercifully meets the other side of the ring. The strange new pathway appears to be real and solid so I take another step and leave that bizarre stone circle completely.
One more hesitant step and I make to scoop up the blade from the ground.
The ground that is now made of sand.
I just barely manage to grip the weapon’s hilt before my pulse spikes in surprise at the sudden change in terrain. My eyes study the ground in front of me, which should be stone. I don't entirely believe the white sediment I see beneath my feet.
Slowly, my gaze parts from the sand floor and rises upwards to take in the space before me.
I clutch the knife to my chest in shock at my findings.
A yawning chasm, like one of the enormous trenches found in The Deep, stretches out as far as the eye can see.
But it’s not the sight of this outlandish ocean trench I’m evidently standing at the bottom of, nor is it the fact that I’m somehow breathing and moving inside the watery expanse as if it were air that steals all thought from my mind and grips my heart like a vise.
That would be due to the waterway’s current occupants.
The otherworldly trench is teeming with countless bobbing medusae.
Each one of them glows with an ethereal light in a shade of silver-kissed-blue. I don’t need any closer inspection to know exactly what they are.
Heimartai.
The name and its meaning evoke a memory from a few years ago. In level-five we’re taught about some of the more nuanced beings that exist in the pockets of space between this realm and the others. I suppose the Veil Keeper would qualify as one of these 'pockets'.
The Heimartai are nightmarish creatures said to reside in the lands between life and death itself.
Or rather the realms of Pontus, Nawai, and Celestial.
If memory serves me correctly, then each one of them contains a single soul's prophecy. Each one holds a person’s past and destiny—their entire life glows inside that silvery-blue medusa.
I also recall my horror upon learning their trick.
The Heimartai will tell you all you wish to know about your past and future, as long as you touch the right one. However, if you were to touch one that did not belong to you in particular, even the barest trace against them or one of their many long arms would spell certain death.
I flick the knife around my hand absently while analyzing the scene.
There are hundreds of them, thousands even, lining the waterway.
Chancing a glance behind me towards the ring of monoliths I just stepped out of, I find there is nothing but a solid wall of basalt. It appears I’m backed into the trench’s corner with no way out but through. An ache begins forming near my temples before again facing the deadly trench.
Upon my second study, I spot something I must have missed in my initial assessment .
At the other end of the lengthy passage, an ocean grove sparkles into existence. Through the shadow-strewn water, I catch a glimpse of unmistakably vibrant amethyst petals.
My outward groan is long while rubbing my face with both hands in agitation.
Can’t one of these trials be like semi-easy? Do they all have to be life or death? I'm starting to think that exceptionally high odds of maiming are a prerequisite when deciding upon the task.
My hands slide down either side of my face. This is impossible.
The medusae float menacingly above and along the trench's sides in tightly knit groups, illuminating a very fine path for me to tread. I’m forced to remind myself there isn’t a choice.
Holding tight to my comfort weapon, I shove down all gnawing fears, precisely as The Order has beaten into me from day one and step out into the trench of horrors.
To my surprise, the first few meters into my suicide mission pass by without much problem. The few low-hanging Heimartai drift out of the way upon my hesitant approach. Only a few linger in my path and they’re easy enough to skirt around even with their dangerously long arms.
I can’t find the right words to explain the peculiar ocean-way. My movements and breathing are exactly like I’m above surface. Even my hair and belongings don’t float in the water around me.
I suppose it’s akin to moving within a dream, where logic and the laws of nature cannot intervene. Maybe that’s what this is—the place in between life and death, a dream realm teeming with nightmares.
That sounds about right.
I maintain a slow enough pace so as not to disturb any of the deadly creatures but quickly enough that I don't waste any unnecessary time. My mind wanders to the TideLords and their absence. The tension in everyone since the falling stars on Luminalia is obvious yet I still haven’t really grasped the consequences of such an event .
About a fourth of the way into my careful trek, things become significantly more difficult.
A voice unexpectedly calls out to me from above. It sounds like it might have come from another world, another realm. Perhaps it did.
The tenor is both cruel and sweet, familiar yet utterly alien, emanating from one of the many glowing Heimartai. “ The blade of one you love shall end your days, ” it whispers eerily down into the open waters; the prophetic words are carried on an invisible current to reach my ears.
I stiffen as the Heimartai’s statement sends a chill racing down my spine. My mind flashes to the recurring nightmare where a blade is pushed into my heart by a hand I trust. The obvious correlation is enough to stop me in my tracks and peer upwards at the creature above my head.
The horrible being drifts down perilously close. That silvery-blue light inside of it grows brighter as if sensing it holds my attention. When it’s only a single meter away, I hear its voice once more: “ You will fail to find what you seek and another shall take your place. ”
Before I know what I’m doing, my hand is outstretched and reaching eagerly towards eternal sleep. I almost graze its bulbous head when my voice of reason—Kleio’s voice—shouts loudly at me from inside in my own mind. Keep it moving, Boreas!
I snatch away my extended fingers in a blur of motion with a gasp at my own stupidity.
The Heimartai must know it's lost its chance at ensnaring me, because I watch with trembling fists as it fades to a pale opal shade before floating off. That prophecy didn’t belong to me after all. An odd shuddering sensation runs through me, like someone is bottling my soul.
Continuing requires forcing my legs to move one by one.
It quickly becomes evident that the Heimartai opened some sort of floodgate by speaking to me. The other medusae no longer remain silent or pliant, but instead begin calling out to me as I pass .
Some even fall directly into my path. Their ethereal voices reach out, more potent than their tendrils, trying to ensnare me with possible futures that may or may not belong to me.
The louder ones, the ones that block me from my path—those are the ones I feel some sort of unexplainable connection to.
I don't know enough about Heimartai to know if that truly means anything.
Only the voices of my crew members shouting inside my head have the power to stop me from touching the tempting ocean oracles and their sweet promise of death.
A part of me wonders if the Heimartai can somehow hear my crew’s mental warnings. They’re quick to realize the moment they’ve lost their hold on me and easy to get around once I know for certain that it’s not my fate they’re whispering about.
Each time one is dismissed, another will swiftly fall into place. I find that the things they say and the sound of their wonderfully horrible voices is a test in and of itself every single time.
One croons, "The heavens shall spill to you their greatest secrets; you alone can chart the path."
My skin rises with the chills I feel at the absolution in each of their soul’s destinies.
I make it a few more paces before another promises, “ In the darkest hour, your burden will be to find the key. It’s the only path to salvation .”
The one to halt my progress next instructs, “ Follow the heart through the darkest night and into the sun’s prison. It will guide you to your purpose. ” I’m halfway down the sandy trail and having to sidestep the onslaught of prophecies meant for other people's ears.
A shiver runs through me after another almost gains my full attention. “ Guided by the flame of old, uncover the realm of knowledge. The truth that was hidden must again be known .” My hands twitch towards the Heimartai; a part of me desperately wishes to know the rest of its prophecy.
Even as my very bones shout that it is not meant for me .
“ When all seems lost and the tethers have snapped, you become the bridge .” The enticingly silky words strum out upon a phantom current, but again, those voices in my head steer me away.
I’m close now; the shimmering ocean grove beckons near, and excitement pulses in my ears.
Thank the fucking depths, because my self-restraint is wearing thinner with every passing destiny. It’s becoming harder to stop my curiosity-fueled impulsive reactions to them.
“ Always underestimated. Always the odd one out. How ironic that your decision will be the one to tilt the scales. ” The spiel of information from the wicked creature floating just above my head makes my skin crawl.
The sight of the athanasia's startling amethyst petals grabs my attention, and I force myself onward. Just a few more meters. I can do this. I can slip into the grove, steal one of the blooms, and be done in mere moments. Of course then that leaves the little question of how exactly I get back out from here but that’s for future Merena to worry about.