Lost at Sea

Eleanor could feel her irritation rising up to cover her like a tidal wave. Whoever that man was to her in her past life, he would not give. She could tell that this was not the first time she’d had to leave him in order to calm down. However, she knew, she’d come right back.

She tried very hard to focus on anything except Jasper. She tried to see how many loops around the cove she could make without getting dizzy, to catch a fish with her bare hands, to jump high enough out of the water to grab one of the nosy seagulls. Nothing worked.

Finally, she snatched up some reeds near by and set to weaving another fish basket for him. She got about halfway done with it when she felt the currents bend around someone like her. The youngest siren, the one with a bloodlust that could tye over the entirety of the coven, had come to visit.

“Eleanor!” She greeted, although the way her eyes slid over their surroundings like oil made her seem anything except friendly. “My name is Sarah.”

“Charmed,” Eleanor said, struggling to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She looked back to her work, a clear dismissal, but still the girl didn’t move. She patiently waited for Eleanor to face her again without a clue that she was unwanted.

Finally, Eleanor sighed. “Can I help you?”

“Lizbeth sent me to find out what you were doing at this cove all the time,” Sarah informed her, smirking. Eleanor instantly felt indignation rise inside her. She had done nothing to gain Lizbeth’s distrust-- not that Lizbeth knew of, anyway.

“That’s none of your business,” Eleanor snarled lowly. Sarah, being young and cocky in her new life, only grinned wider.

“Oh, but I think it is. Treason of her coven is a very high offense, wouldn’t you say so, sister?”

“Aye, that it is,” Eleanor agreed, eyes narrowing, “-but you’ll find nothing of the likes of that around here. I’ve committed no crime, unless wishing to live alone counts as such. Lizbeth is aware of my choices.”

“If what you say is true, then you wouldn’t mind if I had a look around?” Sarah’s eyes were flashing in such a way that it made the elder siren uncomfortable. The basket tumbled from her lap and sank into the depths below, forgotten.

“I don’t recommend that,” Eleanor warned, baring her teeth. Sarah did not back away, but instead shifted her position into a threatening one, as well. Before either could blink, the small girl was lunging passed Eleanor towards the cove’s entrance, which Eleanor had neglected to cover appropriately.

With reflexes that stunned even herself, Eleanor reached out and caught her sister by the tail. She flexed her hand, digging her hard nails into the scales there. Sarah cried out in pain as the water turned slightly pink with her blood. With one hard yank, the dark-haired girl was back in front of Eleanor.

With no one around to stop them, the women lunged for each other’s throats.

Sarah’s fingers swiped against Eleanor’s cheek, gouging the skin there and leaving three deep marks. She managed to get one of the fingers between her razor sharp teeth and bit as hard as she could, throwing her head for good measure. The finger came off easily, and Sarah howled as she shoved away from Eleanor.

It took only a split second before she was lunging again, this time clumsier and more panicked. Eleanor managed to dodge her hands and teeth, but Sarah’s powerful tail came down against her left arm hard. She felt the bones bend and then snap in slow motion without feeling it. She felt as though she was watching it happen to someone else.

Blind rage consumed her as soon as the pain hit her. She grabbed a handful of Sarah’s dark hair and yanked her head back to expose her throat. Without even a second thought, Eleanor ripped her throat out with her teeth and let her lifeless body sink to the ground.

Eleanor floated there for a moment, watching the tendrils of blood reach out and dissolve into the water. Curious, hungry sharks were beginning to circle around her but kept their distance. Her entire body felt like a coiled spring, ready to release at any moment. Gradually, that spring inside her relaxed, and she fell limp.

As she, too, floated to the ground, she thought about the consequences of her rash explosion of temper. Lizbeth could outright accuse her of treason now, and she wouldn’t even have to find Jasper to have her publicly executed or, worse, banish her. But... not if she said Sarah attacked her.

It seemed as though guilt was becoming her constant companion.