Zairah
I had a dream, which was not all a dream... The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless..
Zairah stood there, chest heaving, the ghost of a grin still cutting across her face. Her tail flicked once—less like a threat now, more like punctuation—before settling into a slow sway behind her. She’d half expected Thalassa to strike again, to push until one of them bled or broke, but instead the captain only circled her like a wolf appraising the cub that finally bit back.
The word better landed like a medal. Small, sharp, and earned.
Zairah straightened her coat and tried not to look too proud, but the faint quirk at the corner of her mouth gave her away. “Better,” she echoed under her breath, testing the sound like she might keep it for later.
When one of the sailors called out, the tension on the deck broke like a wave. The captain was already moving—command sliding back over her like armor—and Zairah watched her go, the blue of her horns catching in the gray light, the weight of her authority cutting through the noise of men and gulls alike.
Captain Thalassa.
It felt like a name with edges, something worthwhile to remember.
At the captain’s final words, Zairah blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “You’re hiring me?” she asked, half in disbelief, half amused. But Thalassa was already gone to bark orders, and the only answer she got was the rough rhythm of the crew resuming their work.
Zairah huffed a laugh to herself, brushing windblown hair from her eyes. “Guess that’s a yes.”
She turned toward the stack of crates again, flexing sore fingers, testing her weight on her still-stinging legs. Her body had new aches and pains, but it was a good pain; the kind that said she’d endured something and come out stronger for it.
“Captain Thalassa hired me,” she murmured, letting the words roll off her tongue with a little grin. “Hear that?” she called to a nearby sailor, voice light, teasing. “So unless you wanna get your ass beat, help me with this one.”
The man blinked, then laughed, and for the first time since stepping off the riverboat, Zairah felt like she belonged to the noise and the work and the cold air that stung her lungs.
By the time Thalassa looked back, Zairah was already bent over another crate, stubbornly trying to lift it again.
And this time, she didn’t fall.
fin
The word better landed like a medal. Small, sharp, and earned.
Zairah straightened her coat and tried not to look too proud, but the faint quirk at the corner of her mouth gave her away. “Better,” she echoed under her breath, testing the sound like she might keep it for later.
When one of the sailors called out, the tension on the deck broke like a wave. The captain was already moving—command sliding back over her like armor—and Zairah watched her go, the blue of her horns catching in the gray light, the weight of her authority cutting through the noise of men and gulls alike.
Captain Thalassa.
It felt like a name with edges, something worthwhile to remember.
At the captain’s final words, Zairah blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “You’re hiring me?” she asked, half in disbelief, half amused. But Thalassa was already gone to bark orders, and the only answer she got was the rough rhythm of the crew resuming their work.
Zairah huffed a laugh to herself, brushing windblown hair from her eyes. “Guess that’s a yes.”
She turned toward the stack of crates again, flexing sore fingers, testing her weight on her still-stinging legs. Her body had new aches and pains, but it was a good pain; the kind that said she’d endured something and come out stronger for it.
“Captain Thalassa hired me,” she murmured, letting the words roll off her tongue with a little grin. “Hear that?” she called to a nearby sailor, voice light, teasing. “So unless you wanna get your ass beat, help me with this one.”
The man blinked, then laughed, and for the first time since stepping off the riverboat, Zairah felt like she belonged to the noise and the work and the cold air that stung her lungs.
By the time Thalassa looked back, Zairah was already bent over another crate, stubbornly trying to lift it again.
And this time, she didn’t fall.
fin
