Crashing waves of corrosive saltwater hammered into Sasha as she clung to her driftwood— drawing shallow, ragged breaths whilst sea-spray stung her eyes and burned her throat. Her legs twisted painfully in the powerful current, though her hours spent thrashing about against its unrelenting force had left her energy almost entirely spent. It really was all she could muster to keep a steady grip on the jagged, splintered length of railing she now called home. Sasha turned her eyes groggily skyward, peering through the clouds which had previously blanketed the world in darkness. The storm was now nothing but a distant memory, a veritable explosion of thoughts and sounds all culminating in a few precious seconds of action. Sasha winced slightly and averted her gaze from the blazing sun. She almost wished the torrential rain would return, if only for a reprieve from the onslaught of radiant light she felt burning her already battered body.
Poor wretched soul, aimless and drifting.
The storm. Sasha hadn't had time to fully process it, though as she hung from her splintering safe-haven she found her thoughts drifting back to the previous night's calamity. It came to her in bits and pieces, some with crystal clarity and others blurring the line between memory and imagination. She remembered her father in his smart white laboratory coat. He had said something to her, something important. A warning, Sasha thought. Yes, he was warning her about something below deck. Sasha had never been aboard her father's research vessel before, and was terribly curious to see what all the hubbub was about. It had been smooth sailing until last night. Sasha's father had been called away as they ate in his quarters, and she could remember hearing a commotion on the deck. Against his wishes, Sasha crept out and into the sheets of rain. The wind howled around her and she had to grip the railing tightly to keep her footing while enormous waves rocked the ship back and forth. Sailors were everywhere, shouting and pulling on ropes. One of the masts, the foremast she thought, was creaking ominously as the bow of the ship bucked and swayed. There, in the middle of it all, was her father. He and several sailors had been doing something to the hatch that led below deck, though Sasha couldn't see exactly what. There was a loud crack, like that of thunder, but she had seen no flash of lightning. Then, all at once, her world crumbled around her. She could just barely remember the hatch exploding outwards, accompanied by jets of ghostly light. She could see, through a haze, her father reaching for her as the ship was consumed by the light, blinding and white. The last fragment was muddied, battered, and Sasha couldn't tell if she'd imagined it, but she could swear she could smell mint. Sharper than the piercing, incandescent beam, it had flooded her senses completely.
Feeble and innocent, broken and cold.
Sasha is suddenly and unceremoniously awoken from her stupor, coughing and sputtering while she scrambles to keep her grip on the railing. To her surprise, she was shivering uncontrollably. Just how long was she out? She struggled in vain to find the stray wave which had so cruelly struck her but found to her dismay that the sea was growing restless. The winds which had laid dormant began to blow their beckoning call, and the clouds, dark and foreboding, followed obediently. Sasha thought they looked rather like a platoon of toy soldiers, marching in unison to a beat none could hear. She laughed dryly through chattering teeth, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Her mouth was like sandpaper, and her throat burned from the relentless salt air. She wished she could feel the warmth of a winter's hearth, if only one last time. Blearily taking stock of her situation, Sasha found that she could no longer feel her legs. She could just barely see them dangling beneath her through the murky water, and as she tried half-heartedly to kick them about a flash of something much deeper caught her eye. "Why, it must be a fish", she rasped dimly. She could barely hear herself. "Or perhaps a predator of the sea." Sasha thought it was high time one such creature accompanied her, no matter its intention. She had been feeling terribly alone until now. As the first droplets of the encroaching shower found purchase atop her head, Sasha began to drift back into her daydream.
It feels the ebb of life's tide lifting!
In her dreams, at least, Sasha was in control. She wished to be free of the terrible cold, penetrating and immobilizing, and so she imagined that the sea was a warm, soothing bath. The corners of her bruised, bluing lips curled into a smile as she could almost feel the lapping of the hot water. Next, she needed to be safe from the corroding salt. She squeezed her eyes so tightly she could see stars forming amidst the darkness and thought as hard as she could that she had a suit of armor. She imagined a whole row of gleaming scales sprouting from her her body, shielding her from the harsh currents and burning sea-spray. Her body felt mostly numb at this point. Finally, she thought, she was safe. All the world was so quiet, as if in a dreamscape. Quiet? Sasha's eyes shot open to horrible, searing pain. She screwed them tightly and could just barely make out the surface drifting away above her. She was sinking! She tried to claw at the water, to kick herself upwards, but to no avail. Her body simply wouldn't respond. The ocean's surface roiled and shuddered in mesmerizing patterns through the dim light overhead, dancing to the same tune as her precious toy soldiers before. She was now entirely numb, and as her vision faded she began to wonder foggily why it was that she felt no desire for air. Bleakly, blearily, she opened her mouth to sigh her last breath, but found the sea's salt had disappeared! In its place, she thought, she could only taste… Mint. Cold, piercing mint.
Come to us, child. You're safe with the fold.