The Hybrid: Chasing Destiny

Caeden pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Tonight was the first in several that he seemed to shrug off the bone chill and dread of the events at Spectermere. He could no longer feel the tendrils of that vile shade worming its way into his body and curling around his spirit to slowly snuff it out. Ava called it Azael, the Shadow King, the shade that cut and infected her with dark obsidian. He would task Oswin with finding everything they could about that creature once they reached the Casimir Empire, but that was for another night. On this night the sky was clear. The stars were bright and gentle winds filled Lady Ella’s sails. A night to give thanks.

This calm was a blessing from the gods! Caeden hoped he would get a chance to ask for guidance through the storm they would face tomorrow, but his advisors’ bickering was testing his patience.

“And what would you have His Grace do, throw Miss Ava overboard and leave her to drown?” Oswin exclaimed aspirated.

“That girl, at the very least, is an ill-omen. Wherever she goes evil follows,” Ser Morley responded. “Perhaps a more agreeable solution would be to keep her in the brig for the prince’s safety as well as her own.”

“Imprison her? Without cause? Need I remind you that she saved us from those frog creatures at a great cost to herself.” Oswin replied.

“She has lived among criminals for years, cavorted with orcs and finds no difficulty with speaking an untouchable’s name without shame or hesitation. Who can say that she was not party to all this strife from the very beginning? She is a hybrid. Chaos is in their nature. No, I will not risk the prince’s safety to satisfy your thirst for knowledge, mage.”

“Enough,” Caeden interjected, his patience at an end. Gods, I just wanted some peace. “You will leave the girl be.”

“But Prince Caeden!” the Knight-Commander blustered.

“I doubt the girl will do anything that will leave her stranded and adrift in the middle of the ocean, Knight-Commander Morley. Once we dock, Miss Ava will be taken into custody. If she is deemed a threat to the Empire, we will deal with her accordingly. Will that satisfy you both?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Both men echoed.

“Good, now leave me be and get some rest, you will need it tomorrow.”

His advisors bowed and turned to leave. Once they disappeared from his view Caeden made his way up the stairs to the poop deck, throwing his embroidered gold pouch up and catching it with every step. The sound of the stones inside knocked against each other and calmed his frayed nerves once again.

He leaned against the far railing and poured the four stones out onto his palm. They glinted beautifully in the Moonlight. He picked at the yellow stone but started and snapped his hand shut when he heard a grumbling yawn.

Ava sat cross-legged against a mast behind him, scratching the sabre cat’s massive neck in her lap while it stretched in a drowsy doze next to her. It moaned pleasurably and started purring. Caeden did not realise she had recovered enough to move about. In the dim lamplight, she still looked so thin, almost drowning in the sailor’s shirt they gave her to wear. Yet, her eyes were light, vibrant and filled with suspicion.

Caeden sighed internally. “How much did you overhear?” He asked, jerking his head to the stairs he came from.

“I am not sure what you mean, I did not hear much of anything,” she replied, innocently.

Liar. Caeden smirked, jingling the stones in his hand. She heard everything. She knew they did not trust her but antagonizing anyone now would not help her situation. She is clever, keeping a close watch on her after Lady Ella docks would be wise.

“You should be resting to regain your strength. Is the food to your liking?” Caeden queried, changing the topic onto more neutral ground.

“Yes. It is delicious. I’ve never – I’m – I am tired of resting, tired of just laying around.” She replied, taken aback by his concern. “This is the first time that I have left Spectermere, and I have not been able to see much of anything. Are – those praying stones?” she asked.

Caeden stopped his movement, suppressing the urge to hide the stones in question behind his back, her querying gaze catching him off guard. “Well, yes. I was hoping to have a quiet moment.”

“You are one of the People!” she blurted out, his hint falling on deaf ears. She rushed to his side, looking over the stones in his hand with unbridled wonder.

“You say that almost like an accusation.” Caeden rubbed his temple nervously as he stared at the stones. He had never felt embarrassed about his faith before, but then again it had never become a topic of discussion either. The People kept their worship to themselves and prayed in private. This whole conversation felt altogether strange and untoward.

The girl spoke properly for the most part but had no social graces whatsoever. Her blunt and bold nature could have unfavourable results for them all if she offended the wrong people. Perhaps there will be time for Oswin to give her some lessons in etiquette before we dock.

“No, not at all. There were never any faithful in Spectermere. If there were they would not last long. Minervin said they are usually plain stones, but yours are obsidian?”

“Yes, I suppose they are overly luxurious, but they were a gift from the Queen. It is – a common interest we share. Would you – like to pray with me?” he asked warily.

“Oh – No. It would be pointless for me. Hybrids have no place in the Eternal Lands.”

Caeden reeled back as if struck by the sudden realisation. “That cannot be right, can it?”

Ava took his hand in hers. They felt rough and callous and were in stark contrast to how small and delicate they looked. “Yellow for Holden, blue for Fern and black for the Reaper, yes? I suppose you hold by Holden and yearn to be accepted onto the Pearly Shores?”

“I do hold by Holden, yes. But, if I must choose an Eternal Land for my spirit’s destination, it would be the boredom of Fern’s Evergreen Garden, not the battle-beaten Pearly Shores.”

Ava’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. “You seem to have trouble reconciling your faith.”

Caeden chuckled, “I have trouble reconciling certain details of my faith. It comforts and strengthens me when I need it to. But I will spend my entire life fighting in battles and waging wars for the emperor and my people. It is not something I wish to continue doing for eternity once my life is over.”

“I think I understand. From what Minervin has told me, I do not think Fern would agree. Your face is pretty, though. Maybe she will take you in if you keep it unmarred for the rest of your life.”

This time Caeden laughed, “The goddess of love, inspiration and beauty would not be that superficial. There are ways to earn her grace and favour through other means. But I am flattered that you consider me pretty.”

Ava flushed red before turning to regard the stones with a singular focus. “Which god does that stone represent?” she asked pointing to the fourth stone.

“This one?” Caeden grasped the diamond-crust stone between his thumb and forefinger and raised it, turning it in the lamplight as he inspected it. “This one represents The Other. Similarly, with the Reaper’s stone, we do not pray to him, but we recognise the mysterious god with this stone.”

“You do not have a stone for Anarchaen Mulgrath?” she asked earnestly.

“The orc would-be god? No, it would be sacrilegious to recognise, let alone pray to him. He is considered an imposter. Do you – hold by him?”

Her eyes widened in shock, then became dark with shadow. “No, I do not, but I would be lying if I said I did not consider it. Malgorn could be part of his warband by now and Mulgrath has been known to take in other spirits besides orcs. Rare, I know, but spending an eternity on a warship seems a better option than the alternative, I suppose.”

“I see,” Caeden looked at her pensively. She would become an unclaimed spirit after death. Everything he knew about the orc imposter told him that Mulgrath would not look past the stain of her birth. Even if her spirit were unburdened by ill intent, it would fall to The Deep between the cracks the gods left behind. It was a grim fate. But there was at least some solace he could offer her.

“If there is no place for you in the Eternal Lands, you could perhaps find one in the stars.”

“What do you mean?” Her golden-brown eyes glimmering with curiosity in the lamplight.

“Your – wizard did not teach you about the stars?”

“You could not see them through the clouds in Spectermere. I will admit they are so beautiful.”

“Even more so when you know their true nature. Come, I will show you.” Caeden placed the praying stones back in his pouch and reached out a hand for her to take.