There’s a large conch shell attached to a rope belt on his hip. He can’t be more than thirty, late twenties perhaps, and he carries himself with the confidence of royalty.
“I must thank you, stranger, for righting the wrong this man insulted me with. But answer me this. Who are you?” Ceto demands, her guards seem to finally find their courage and surround the two of them, drawing their weapons to protect their empress.
The elf doesn’t respond.
Ceto bristles at the insolence but asks her next question.
“Why weren’t you arrested at the gates?”
“Because I’m not a threat.” The man’s voice is soft; it sounds as if he’s whispering the words.
But Ceto can hear him clearly, she can hear the power behind every syllable.
“These men would say differently, as would the trail of corpses behind you. Now I’ll ask once more. Who are you?” Ceto commands.
She snaps her fingers for the other guards in the courtyard to clear the area.
The imperial court is ushered out, until only Ceto, her guards, the mysterious elf, and the pinned Hunter remain.
The elf bows and looks Ceto directly in the eyes. He’s mesmerizing, and something about him reminds her of the woman who haunts her every dream.
“My name is Perses. I’m here to talk about the future of Nereid. And I think you can help me.”
Chapter 2: Beginnings
Beck
Seagulls coo overhead as the large Oceanan ship known as the Iron Serpent slices through the gray morning waters with a strong breeze filling its sails.
Naval men mosey about the deck, staying relatively ready against Lycon attack, but they’re so far up north everyone is pretty much at ease.
The governor’s son clutches onto the rope ladder of the vessel at about half distance to the crow’s nest, staring out as the sun rises over the horizon. Fixated on the line where the sky and ocean meet.
The wind pushes his mid-length dark brown hair away from his face, leaving his deep brown eyes exposed to the wide-open sea. The breeze is harsh and it makes his eyes water as the ship pushes against the invisible force, sailing its way toward the peace summit at the palace of Arethusa, where the young man’s father will ally himself with the new queen, Joana.
It’s been a year since she came into power, after the nasty political uprising led by her own father, which almost destroyed the royal matriarchy. But if rumors were to be believed, she defeated him with the help of a pirate lover, who disappeared just before the new queen took the throne.
Since then she’s been putting her queendom back together and helping Oceanus against the growing attacks from Lycos, attempting to take back the free state and rejoin them with the empire.
The young man tries to push any thoughts of his father’s—and soon to be his—state away; all he wants is to enjoy the sun on his face and wind off the sea.
“Beck!”
A voice shouts from below, and the young man groans at hearing the irritated tone of his father’s advisor echo across the air.
“You’re wanted on the afterdeck. Get your head out of the clouds, boy! We’re just about crossing the borders of Oceanus into Arethusa.”
Beck glares down at his father’s old friend, Caius, taking in his solemn features.
From all his years of frowning, first at Beck’s father, Orion, and Orion’s impulsive behavior, and now at the wild youngling his best friend had produced, it seems the man’s blond hair has gone prematurely gray, beginning to stain his beard as well.
Beck grins obnoxiously. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
He begins his climb reluctantly down, uneager to leave his post, mumbling the whole way under his breath.
“With how far out we’ve sailed from the mainland, it’s not like we’ll arrive at Thalassa anytime soon.”
Beck’s feet hit the upper deck, and Caius walks over and smacks him on the head.
“What was that for?” Beck groans, rubbing the back of his skull. “I came down.”
“You shouldn’t have been up there in the first place. You’re twenty-four years old, three years from inheriting your father’s position as leader of Oceanus. You need to stop gallivanting about and start paying attention to the politics ahead of you.”
Beck opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by a voice from across the deck.
“Caius, cut the boy some slack; Beck get over here now,” Orion, governor of Oceanus, shouts before returning to his duties at the map desk.
Chuckling can be heard from the navy men surrounding the two nobles, and Caius, with his everlasting grimace, turns toward the helm with a blushing Beck following behind.
The young leader-to-be admires the harpoon launchers as they walk briskly toward the afterdeck. They’re stationed at varying points along the gunwale on either side, a recent invention by Oceanans. They need only aim and load the harpoon and the giant spears would do the rest of the damage.
They jog up the remaining steps to the helm, and Beck straightens his white peasant shirt, tucking any stray material into his dark brown lace-up pants that are also tucked into his black boots. He looks like a crown prince should, though Oceanans don’t use words like that, not after escaping the chains of the empire and gaining their struggling independence.
Instead he is Master Beck, the governor’s son, who will one day become the governor of Oceanus and rule beside the elected officials of the Oceanus Senate.
But that won’t be for another three years; he still has much to learn under his father’s teachings—and unfortunately Caius’s, who will serve as his advisor as well.
Beck approaches the table in front of the helm.
His father stands at the center with his advisors and the admiral of the navy overlooking the map nailed to the surface.
Beck can’t help but glance over his father’s strong frame. He wishes he could have inherited his father’s stout figure, but instead his muscles are leaner. He figures he must have inherited that from his mother’s side.
Lady Elizabetta of Oceanus. She’d been an incredible woman. Fierce where Beck’s father was gentle, kind when he was strong, Orion used to tell Beck that she was his perfect match.
Beck was sixteen when she died, killed by Lycon soldiers after she was abducted in an outlying village and then murdered when she tried to escape. Since then, he’s begun to feel guilty for his appearance, his light skin compared to his father’s tan, his almost black hair compared to his father’s light brown, which has highlights of blond and gray running through it.
He even confessed to his father his guilt, but Orion merely laughed and said because of Beck it was like being able to see Elizabetta still, every day, and it made him proud.
Orion looks up from the map he’s pointing to, his eyes landing on his son, and his happy grin shakes Beck out of his reminiscing.
“There’s my son. Daydreaming, were we?”
Orion teases and gestures Beck closer to the table.
Caius’s frown deepens, obviously disapproving of Orion’s reaction to the boy’s disappearance, but Beck merely scoots around him, grinning back at his father.
They clasp hands in the traditional Oceanan greeting, but Orion also ruffles Beck’s hair like he’s a child again.
“Dad…” Beck sighs, fixing his hair and pushing the longer strands behind his ears.
“Orion, the boy needs to be more aware of his duties. He will be governor soon.” Caius sniffs, his hands clasping behind his back.
Orion shoos the other advisors away, leaving Beck, Caius, the helmsman, and the admiral alone with him.
“Not too soon. He’s fine, Caius. You need to relax, honestly you create more wrinkles every day.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m the one creating them, sir.” Caius’s eyes narrow at Orion and Beck, but the governor merely laughs a dismissal.
“Admiral, tell my son what we’ve been discussing.”
The Ocean
an admiral nods. “Certainly, sir. Well, Master Beck, you’re probably wondering why we’re sailing so far out from the mainland?”
“It had crossed my mind, yes,” Beck answers, and Orion claps him on the back.
“See, Caius, the boy is learning already. Very observant.”
Beck stifles a smile and he can practically hear Caius’s eyes roll.
“Most terrific, sir,” Caius drawls.
The admiral doesn’t hold back his amusement and chuckles at Caius’s sarcasm before continuing, “We received reports that Lycon scouts have been seen all over Nereid, some as bold as to be entering Arethusa regardless of the closed borders to the empire.”
Beck shakes his head. “But why?”
“We don’t know,” Orion responds, looking over the map that Beck now realizes displays all of Nereid.
There are purple crosses all over the chart in every corner of the continent except of course the Eastlands, symbols of sighted Lycon scouts.
Beck’s hands tighten on the table’s edge and he leans carefully, examining the map more closely.
“It started about a year ago. After the Arethusian coronation. Small teams of Lycon soldiers expanded across the map and then stopped at random points. It’s as if they’re waiting for something,” the admiral explains.
Waiting for what? Beck wonders.
“So that’s why we’re sailing so far from the edge. You’re worried about the scouts along the coast.”
“We don’t need them reporting back to Ceto any information until we understand why she has so many men stationed across Nereid,” Orion states, brushing his fingers over Acheron, Lycos’s capital.
“It’s an act of war,” Caius mutters.
“Perhaps,” Orion agrees, “but this is not a war we can fight alone.”
“Still, we shouldn’t be going to Arethusa, we know nothing of this new queen. She could demand Oceanus become a part of the queendom.”
Caius sounds as if he’s reminding Beck’s father, like they’ve already had this conversation.
Orion’s expression grows tired and his hand rubs his temple in irritation. “Even so, our sources are depleted. Oceanus can’t hold Lycos back forever. They’re making it over the mountains and we are suffering innocent casualties.”
Deep sorrow etches over the lines of his face, and Beck reaches out and grabs his father’s hand in comfort, thinking of his mother.
Orion smiles sadly. “I don’t care about my title or position. We are fading and we need help. The fact that this new queen has closed her borders to the Lycon Empire is enough for me to believe that she may help us without demanding our freedom in return.”
“For our people,” Beck states and Orion nods.
“For our people,” the older man repeats.
The wind picks up and the admiral has to grab some of the papers from flying off the helm table. The breeze takes on a stronger gust, and Beck sees the helmsman turn the wheel ever so slightly.
The ship shifts perhaps two notches farther out and suddenly the world goes still.
It’s as if Zeus, god of the sky, snapped his fingers and the wind melted away. The early morning sun that was shining before, Beck notices, is now covered in clouds. The sky is gray and turning darker. Which should mean more wind, but the sails have fallen flat and the ship slows to a coasting speed.
“Strange,” Orion mutters.
Beck turns toward Caius, surprised not to hear him complaining, but finds the old advisor at the edge of the ship looking over the rail toward the bow.
The admiral salutes to Orion and takes off down the steps to see if anything can be done to pick up their speed again.
The air is still, and the men below have gone eerily quiet as if they feel something too, a presence that shouldn’t be here.
“Caius?” Beck calls to the older man, taking a step toward him.
“Orion? I—could you come here?” Caius beckons the governor closer, and Orion does as he’s asked, stepping around the table and past his son to the helm’s rail.
“What is it?” Beck questions.
Caius points out to the horizon, and Beck walks away from them both to the head of the afterdeck, looking out over the bow.
“Do you see what I’m seeing?”
Beck searches for anything out of the ordinary, but he sees nothing. There’s nothing out there.
Except, suddenly, something catches Beck’s eye. A rippling in the water ahead of the ship—and not a small ripple, because if it were there’d be no way Beck could see it from the helm.
No, a large rippling of the water disturbs the morning waves. And it’s heading straight for the ship.
“What in Atlantis—” Orion begins as he sees the ripple too, but he’s cut off from finishing his thought.
The beast breaks through the water with a thundering cry. Water explodes over the vessel’s deck from the massive splash, carrying some of the men overboard.
Beck holds on to the rail looking over the upper deck, now completely soaked as he stares down a massive, towering serpent.
“Dear gods,” Beck whispers, gasping at the size of the creature.
He glances up to the state flag, flying from the crow’s nest, and can’t help but be reminded of their symbol and patron god Ladon, a hundred-headed sea serpent from the childish tales of heroes of old, who guarded the eastern reaches of the sea and the island and golden apples of Eris.
But this snake only has one head and it’s easily the size of half the ship itself.
Its body is strange, silver with fins that flare out from behind the sea serpent’s eyes. There are thin sparkling fins all the way down the creature’s long form. It screeches a high-pitched roar and slams its body into the side of ship.
The ship lurches to the right. There’s a crack down below, and men and women scramble, shouting to check the damage.
“To your positions!” Orion bellows, grabbing his son by the arm. “Get down below before you get yourself killed,” Orion commands, but Beck shakes himself free.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Water bursts over the upper deck as the sea serpent rises from behind the ship; it screams again and then strikes its head, quick, to crash into the helm.
“Run!” Orion hollers and throws his son over the ship’s railing.
Caius jumps from the top of the steps.
Beck can hear the helmsman screaming as he hits the main deck. He gasps for air and watches his dad jump from the upper deck just as the snake’s head collides into it and rips the ship’s steering off.
Orion lands next to his son with a groan, and water splashes over them both as the helm crashes into the water and the snake submerges once more.
The ship groans at the loss of the back, and Beck knows the Iron Serpent won’t stay above water long with this much damage.
“Dad?” Beck worries, turning his father over.
Orion’s eyes are open, and he looks to Beck with a nod.
“Sir, we need to abandon ship.” Caius reaches them both and pulls them to their feet.
Orion is clutching his ribs, but they all look okay for now.
Beck sees the navy men and women lowering the longboats into the water, but they’ll never make it with the serpent out there.
Orion knows it too.
“We can’t outrun that thing. We need to take it down.”
“Sir, it just took out half our ship—”
“And it’s coming back,” Beck states, pointing at the rippling water past the wrecked back of the ship.
“The harpoons, how many are left?” Orion grunts, as they all turn back, scanning the remaining parts of the ship.
“Six,” Caius sighs.
“Admiral!” Orion shouts.
“The admiral is dead, sir,” a young woman calls back as she runs toward the three men.
The ship is teetering, and they all try to adjust their balance as the ship sways.
They’re sinking.
“Well, you’ve ju
st become a navy captain, ma’am,” Orion states, slapping the newly named captain on the back, and she grunts from the strength.
“Aye, sir.” The woman nods. “What do you need?”
“Officers at the harpoons, we have to take this thing down if we’re going to give the rest of the people a shot at escaping.”
The female captain nods. “Right, sir, I’ll gather the soldiers.”
She takes off, shouting orders.
A screech echoes through the air. It’s like it’s toying with them. The senators and advisors are being loaded onto the lifeboats and lowered to the sea. The sailors shout for Caius, Beck, and the governor to board.
“Go on then, I’ve got a snake to slay.” Orion grins as he reaches out to hug Beck, but Beck steps back.
“I’m not going anywhere without you; if you’re manning the harpoons, I am too.”
“Beck, you’re my heir. I need you on the lifeboats.”
“No!”
“Beck, listen to your father—” Caius tries, but Beck cuts him off.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Orion sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. There isn’t any time.
“Fine, fine but you do as I say,” Orion commands.
“Sir—” Caius objects.
The ship is shaking and Beck can feel the slow descent toward the depths.
“I’ll take the center harpoon,” Beck says and starts to take off for the launcher when his father stops him.
“Beck?”
“Yeah?” He turns back to his father only to be met with a right hook. The punch lands with enough force that it knocks the young man off his feet.
His back is on the deck and he can’t keep his focus, his mind swimming.
“I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry, and I love you.”
Beck hears his father’s muttering and then he’s being hoisted off the deck and into someone’s arms.
“No,” Beck tries to stand, but he can’t quite get his legs to stay under him.
“Caius, take him, now,” Orion commands, and Beck feels a long kiss on his forehead. Hands hold his face and words are whispered against his cheek: “May you rule with peace and unity.”
The Veiled Descendants Page 2