Bloodlines

“I can’t believe I did that. How could I have been so stupid? Killing someone is not the way.”
Rose sat on the bed of the stream, her feet drawn up as she rested her chin on her knees. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she stared pensively into the water. Fairies flew around her, some settling in her red hair and mimicking her pose. The sound of the water flowing over the rocks did little to soothe Rose’s mind as she continued to look over the terrain. Unknown to her, the moss around her body began to grow slowly, rising up to cushion her feet and cover her boots. The roots of the moss ate away at the leather of her boots until the moss itself covered her feet. A gentle breeze seemed to whisper past her, teasing her hair as it flowed around her. Off to the side, a craggy-faced old woman stared at Rose, her face a mixture of curiosity and recognition.
Slowly Rose became aware of being watched, she frowned as she tightened her arms around her legs. “Go away Draven, I am not in the mood to have one of your pity parties now. I don’t care what Sarah did to you as long as you both just stay away from me.”
“I no’ be yer Draven lit’le one.”
Rose jerked to her feet, whirling around to face the voice that sounded out. The accent, so strange to her ears, was thick with old-world phrasings. Unable to see or hear anything, Rose frowned as she reached for the small dagger she had at her waist.
“Ye’ll no’ be needin’ tha young one. I mean ya no ‘arm.”
“Who are you?” Rose frowned as she thought she could smell the sea air flowing from the direction of the voice.
“It no’ be who I am that ye need ta be worrin’ abou’. But who ye are turnin’ ta be.”
Rose frowned as she then felt a peace of kinship from the woman’s voice. Tilting her head to the side, she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin defiantly. “And who am I turning into then old woman?”
A soft chuckle sounded as Rose could hear the footfalls of the person who had joined her. “Why dun you sit an’ we’ll talk a bit ‘fore I tell ya all abou’ who you are young Rose.”
Frowning, Rose wondered how the being knew her name as she felt her legs grow weary and she sank back down to the earth. Drawing her knees up once more she turned towards the woman and motioned for her to take a seat beside her. The sounds of fabric shuffling were the only clue that the woman had indeed sat down. A deep sigh came from the woman as she spoke softly.
“Twas wrong fer ya no’ ta have been tol’ yer history Rose, bu’ I guessin’ it twas fer the best in tha end. Tell me chil’, how did ya feel when ya felt that young man’s life slip away from him?”
Rose frowned as she turned her head to the woman. “I’m guessing you saw the fight?”
“Oh aye, I saw tha fight.”
Rose frowned as she rested her chin back on her knees. Sighing softly she began to speak. “It felt horrible and satisfying at the same time. I felt horrible because after everything was said and done, he was reaching out for mercy, but when I remembered what he was going to do to me, do to Draven, I knew that I had done the right thing to protect us.”
“Tha first kill always be the ‘ardest un ta get over chil’ but where’s you goin’ ya no’ goin’ ta be needin’ ta fight ta kill veera often.”
Rose looked at the old woman as she heard the voice change from elderly to middle age. The voice wasn’t the only thing that changed, since the hag-like woman was slowly turning into a lovely woman in her twenties. Rose couldn’t see the change, but the smell of sea air changed to the smell of the ocean just after a storm.
“And where am I going exactly?”
A soft chuckle sounded and Rose could feel the woman’s fingertip gently graze the skin on Rose’s upper arm. “Yer goin’ with young Sarah on my ship. An’ yer goin’ ta be a lady tha’ no othersa wanna tangle wit’.”
Rose frowned as she sat up, placing her hands on the moss on either side of her hips, she lowered her legs until they were crossed in front of her. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees as she turned her head to look at the woman. “You’re not mortal are you?”
A soft sigh sounded and more of the sea air seemed to surround Rose. The sigh, sounding like the waves crashing on the beach, was soft on Rose’s ear. “Nay chil’. I no’ be mortal.”
“Who are you?”
“Who ya think I be?”
“I think you are Calypso. Goddess of the Sea.”
“Then ya be thinkin’ right. Sarah be my gran’daughta, five time removed o’course. But my blood be runnin’ strong in her an’ her sisters.”
“Then who am I?”
“Ye be a mite more powerful, but only caus’a who yer gran’mammy be.”