6Chapter One
The Empty Well
Coarse bronze hands ran across the smooth wood as the wheel was swept to the left, the wind sweeping the thick gray hairs from the captain's face to be tossed in the wind. This man gazed longingly at the horizon, waiting for the crew to finish loading. Crinkled fingers lingered on his brow, wiping the salt water from his eyes, the same hand coming to rest on the delicately carved wood of the handles. They were worn from use, from the vermin that had grasped it beautiful power in their own palms. It would not be long before another rat claimed it, gliding through the vast sea, the salt stinging their eyes, the wind sweeping up the sails, with nothing but the wheel and the water ahead of them, true love. The man sighed and let his hand fall to his lap, the years evident on his face. Wind crept up slowly to his back, and then rushed up to the massive sails. Yes, today was a good day for sailing. The captain of the Latrement blinked rapidly, trying to clear the splotches from his vision. He had been staring at the sun again. Shaking his old head, the captain trained his sight to the cabin door. One last sigh was heard before the captain was seen rising up from the deck and disappearing below it.
Men hurried wildly around, preparing the ship for departure, attempting to balance their precious cargo, while running like savages. They rushed up the ramp and down again, barely avoiding the figure standing at the edge it. Gathering her cloak about her, the strange woman gazed at the ship with interest, taking in the intricate beauty of the vessel and the undeserving crew. They were akin to rodents, unwanted and everywhere. Lotte pulled the hood further down over her features, hiding her face and sex from view. It was impossible to say how long she stood there, staring at the Latrement, taking in the beauty of it. She wanted it. Like all those before her, the deck of the Latrement had beckoned, begging her feet to step on its surface, to touch the railing with her fingertips, to escape from the harbor with the wheel and sea before her.
A member of the crew called to the captain, ready to set sail. Emerging from below, the aging man scratched his beard and walked forward. A surge of unbearable envy creeped into Lotte's soul. She felt possessed by it, this green-eyed demon of jealousy. Clenching the folds of the fabric hiding her identity, Lotte watched helplessly as her dream prepared to set sail. She watched her leave the dock in agony, and longed to be in the captain's place, clutching the wheel with her own hand. As the shipped disappeared in the distance, Lotte's hand began to lose its firm grip. She relaxed slightly and gave a disheartened sigh. The world was so cruel to make her a woman. She glanced down at her red, irritated palms and shook her head. Lying flat on her stomach, the woman stared into the evening water and dipped her sore hands into the soothing depths of the ocean. She closed her eyes and listened to the rolling waves, imagining she was on the deck of the Latrement, not the dock. They only thing she could see was water in every direction, miles of ocean, miles of freedom.
The warmth of the summer night caressed her back as the water ran between her fingers with the tide. July was always like this in Istoria, flowing greens hills pressed up to the sandy beaches of the ocean, humid air was tossed around the shore while the air smelled of pine trees. Lotte opened her eyes to the tempting breezes as they played with stray locks of her dark hair. Pushing back the thick material surrounding her figure, she sat up and allowed her legs to hang over the dock, her toes teasing the water under the sultry moon. The pale goddess hung from the sky and cast her soft glow to the harbor below, poured over Lotte's face in the murky night. She closed her eyes in the light.
The first time the mysterious girl met the Latrement, Lotte could see it all too clearly, was three summers ago, a week before her fourteenth year began. Lotte's father had left again, after some mysterious wealth in the Trepid Islands, her mother, working at the tavern as usual. That left her the day to be free. She had wandered to the docks, fascinated by the large ships and their troublesome crews. Lotte pined away to be a sea lass', she burned for it, but her father forbade it. He claimed life on the ocean deep was too harsh for such a child. She was not fit for such a life. Lotte thought otherwise, and in the middle of her musing, its beauty had appeared magically, caught her unawares, the Latrement. It was love at first sight.
Now, every morning, Lotte would rush to the docks, watching for her precious pirate ship. Afterwards, she would lie down and stare up at the night, wishing on a stray thought to rule the ocean herself.
Lotte's father had not returned that summer, or the summer after.
Tired of her musings, Lotte pushed up from the ground, looking towards the seaside town where she resided. The inn sat next to the sea, the sign waving slightly in the lofty breeze, the tavern to its left, not a hundred paces down the narrow road. Pressing her body against the shadows of the buildings, the woman wandered through the dark like a whisper, vague and hidden. The door of the tavern loomed in front of her and Lotte took a deep breath, quietly opening the door. She slipped inside and leaned against the wood, exhaling a sigh of relief. Lotte barely noticed the faint rustling of fabric next to her.
"Lotte." A voice spoke from the darkness. Lotte spun around and nearly smacked her head against the wall in fear.
"John!" Lotte scolded in a hushed tone. "Don't do that! I almost died!" Her hand clutched her chest while she tried to calm her breathing.
"Yeah, right, Lotte." He snorted in disbelief. "You're just being dramatic!"
"Am not!" She cried. John clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Be quiet!" John whispered rapidly. "Do you want everyone to wake up?" Lotte shook her head fiercely. Her younger brother carefully pried his fingers away from Lotte's mouth, lest she decide to bite them. Turning towards one of the tables in the tavern, John motioned for Lotte to follow him. "Mind explaining why you're out so late, sis?" He questioned, taking a seat. Lotte pulled up a chair a laid her chin on the wood.
"John." Lotte sounded tired. "You know why I was out late. Why do you bother asking?" She muttered as sleep pulled at the corners of her eyes. John sat opposite of his blood sister. The lack of sleep she had encountered the past few weeks was all too obvious on her features. It wouldn't be long until the crazy woman noticed, the crazy woman being his mother. Her kind of therapy was a leather belt.
"Listen," John whispered. "I'm really worried about you. This has to stop, now. How long until mom notices? You can't keep this up Lotte! You barely get enough sleep as is, and now you add this to your burden, watching some ship leave the harbor every morning. I can't keep working extra for you!" She knew what she was doing was wrong. Lotte knew, but nothing could keep her away from the dock, not even her brother.
"I'm sorry, John." His sister pleaded. "But you don't understand!" John leaned over the table and grabbed Lotte's shoulders.
"No, Lotte! You don't understand! I miss Dad too, but he's not coming back! He's dead! Can't you understand that? Even if you gained control of the Latrement, it would be a fool's quest. He's gone. You would never find him!" Lotte slapped his hands away and wiped her eyes of unshed tears.
"I have to try, John." The boy embraced his sister and held her tightly while she wept.
"I'm sorry, Lotte. Things will be better someday. I'll get a ship and then we can get out of her, away from her." The girl shivered involuntarily from the mention of her. She was the reason Lotte was so miserable, her stepmother. "But, Lotte," John warned. "You have to stop going to the docks at night. She'll catch you one of these days. Remember what happened last time." Oh, she remembered all right. No one forgets getting whipped. It was a few months after their father had left. Lotte took some bread without asking. That was the last time she ever did anything without asking. Around her stepmother, Lotte was reduced to meek and timid, the complete opposite of her personality.
"John," Lotte whispered softly. "I'll be fine. Now, go upstairs. I'll come up in a few minutes." He gave her a doubtful look. "Go!" She giggled. "I'll be fine." He still looked slightly suspicious, but trudged up the steps grumpily. Lotte waited until his feet disappeared and began to creep carefully backwards. She tiptoed until her back ran into the door. Quietly, Lotte slipped back into the night. So absorbed was the girl in her actions that she failed to notice the figure lurking in the shadows.
Her mother stepped out of the darkness, a slight smirk apparent on her features. "How interesting." She murmured.
The crisp air hit Lotte's face and blew her dark hair back. Looking around frantically, Lotte eased her way into the narrow alley between the Inn and the Tavern. She climbed the wooden gate at the end of the empty passage and landed on a grassy bank on the other side. Trees sailed overhead, fresh green buds blossoming on their limbs. Lotte eased herself onto the green hill and took a deep breath. It was one of the only places, one of the only times when she could truly be at peace. It was close to three in the morning, she couldn't feel her feet, and dark bags hung under her eyes, but Lotte didn't care. The fairy-like girl pushed herself up off the soil and padded up the damp hill, slipping on the soft mud occasionally.
The gray structure still stood there; as it did every night, clear droplets of water littering the stone. It was the statue and the well, Lotte's well. Not many people knew about its location save herself and John. The hill kept the well hidden from the sight of her seaside town, and it was a nice place to think. An old legend surrounded the statue by the well, involving a young woman and a pirate, but Lotte couldn't remember the whole thing. Basically, the young woman worked at the tavern. She would always listen the tales of weary travelers and help where she could. One day the town was attacked by a band of pirates, her ancestors apparently. One of the younger, more attractive men came across the tavern and found the woman protecting villagers behind the bar. The man was so taken aback by her beauty and courage that he found himself in love, and even convinced the crew to abandon the town. He visited her frequently until one-day word of a magnificent treasure reached the small seaside town of Istoria. When the man heard of the treasure, his pirate instinct of greed took over and he decided to seek it. The woman begged him not to go, pleaded with him to stay with her. He would not stay but promised to marry her when he returned. Everyday after he left the young woman would sit by the well that overlooked the ocean, waiting for her love. She waited so long that she turned to stone. The man never returned.
Lotte shook her head. It was a stupid legend anyway. Lotte leaned over the dry well and peered into its depths. The blood began to rush to her head. She had never tried a well without any water before, but what was the harm? Her small hand fisted around a cool metal object in her pocket. Lotte raised her hand above the well and whispered quietly to the wind. She dropped the coin and listened until she heard the dull thud of the metal hitting dirt. There was always a small chance.
The girl took in a quick breath of air before turning to walk back to the tavern, her steps lighter. The hill always gave her that calm, pleasant feeling. Lotte slid down the hill, and hopped the gate, stepping briskly towards the tavern door. The kitchen was empty and silent. John was probably sleeping soundly. She smiled at the thought of her annoying brother. Lotte yawned briefly before making her way towards the stairs. Maybe she could have an hour or two of sleep until the sun rose. Lotte's foot never even touched the first step.
Cold, clammy fingers wrapped around her right arm like a vice and Lotte cried out in fright.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice, little Lotte, that you were gone every night?" The voice grated against her ears. "Where have you been? The docks, again?" It was her stepmother. Lotte shuddered, fearing the worst. The hand around her arm tightened painfully and the girl whimpered. "Do you think I'm stupid, girl? I overheard that conversation with your brother." The voice hissed. Lotte shut her eyes. There was no way out. "I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson, little Lotte," Her stepmother threatened. "So that this kind of incident never occurs again." Lotte was thrown against the wall and collapsed like a rag doll. "This kind of behavior can't be tolerated. You understand of course, little Lotte." The black leather slapped against the floor tile. Lotte cringed as her mother drew back the belt strike.
That instant, a thick scream pierced the air. Lotte's stepmother paused and John rushed down the steps, knocking her over the head with a book. He grabbed Lotte's wrist and dragged her out the door as their stepmother sunk to the ground.
"Come on, Lotte!" He yelled. "We have to get out of here, now!" Lotte stared dazedly at her brother and let him lead her out of the tavern. They stepped into a street of chaos. Men with cruel faces ran rampant on the streets, seeming to destroy anything in their path. Swords were strapped to their sides and they over ran the small village. They beat and killed. They stole. Pirates. Pirates were destroying her home. John pulled Lotte against the wall and ducked into the alley, urging her to run faster.
Her breathing grew labored as they reached the gate. John jumped it, and then helped her over it. They ran up the hill for their lives. They ran towards the well, away from the mayhem. Maybe if they could reach the forest past the statue, they would be safe. Maybe they had a chance.
Lotte was so close to being free. If it weren't for the man sitting by the well, she would have been. He was almost like a witch in the early hours of the morning. The wind teased his hair, carrying loose white strands in the wind. His eyes were open and vivid, somewhere between gold and amber under the pale moonlight. The man stared pensively at the statue of the woman by the well. Lotte stopped running before the man, drawing John behind her.
The man spun around at the intrusion. Lotte noted his clothing and the sword at his belt. He was one of them. She could expect no mercy. His intense eyes narrowed at the girl and the boy behind her. The man growled in the back of his throat.
"Elizabeth." He spat. Lotte stepped back in surprise. Elizabeth?
"I'll kill you." He whispered venomously. Lotte just barely registered her brother calling her name. Before she could grasp what was happening, the strange man had grabbed her and slid down the hill in blinding speed. The ship loomed closer, its black sails fluttering in the wind.