3. Lyra

3

LYRA

T he ship creaks and groans as it slices through the waves, the constant motion making it difficult to keep my footing. I've been hiding below deck for days now, surviving on scraps of food I've managed to steal from the crew's stores. It's not much, but it's enough to keep me going.

I'm scavenging for my next meal when I hear a soft shuffling sound behind me. I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. I'm not alone.

Slowly, I turn around to find a young human slave boy staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. He's small and thin, his clothes little more than rags. He looks like he hasn't eaten a decent meal in weeks.

"Please," I whisper, holding out my hands in a placating gesture. "I don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to find something to eat."

The boy's eyes dart around the room, as if looking for an escape. He's clearly terrified, but there's something else in his expression, too. Suspicion.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. I can't tell him the truth, but I can't lie to him either. He's just a child, after all.

"I'm a stowaway," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I snuck on board in the hopes of finding a better life."

The boy's eyes narrow, and he takes a step back. "You're a runaway slave," he says, his voice filled with disgust.

I flinch at his words, feeling a sudden stab of guilt. I was born into slavery, taken from my parents and sold to a wealthy elven family. I've never known anything but a life of work and obedience.

"Please," I say again, my voice pleading. "I don't want to cause any trouble. I just need some food."

The boy hesitates for a moment, his expression softening slightly. But then he shakes his head.

"I can't help you," he says, his voice firm. "If the elves find out you're here, they'll kill us both."

My heart sinks as I realize he's right. The elves are not known for their mercy, especially when it comes to runaway slaves. I'm on my own.

But before I can even begin to think of a plan, the boy's expression changes. His eyes widen in fear, and he takes a step back.

"They're coming," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "You have to hide."

I don't need to be told twice. I dart behind a nearby crate, my heart pounding in my chest. I can hear the sound of footsteps approaching, the low murmur of elven voices.

And then, suddenly, the boy is standing in front of me, his small body trembling with fear.

"I found her," he says, his voice shaking. "She's hiding behind the crates."

The rough hands of the dark elf crewmen grab me, pulling me out from my hiding spot. I struggle against their grip, but it's no use. They're too strong.

They drag me up onto the deck, where the cold wind bites at my skin. I'm surrounded by leering faces, their eyes raking over my body with a hunger that makes my stomach turn.

"Look what we found," one of them sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "A little human runaway."

The others laugh, their crude suggestions for what to do with me making my skin crawl. I try to keep my head down, my eyes fixed on the wooden planks beneath my feet.

But then I feel a hand on my chin, forcing me to look up. It's the ship captain, his smug smile making my blood boil.

"Well, well," he says, his eyes roaming over my body. "What do we have here?"

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. He leans in close, his breath hot on my face.

"I've always had a thing for human women," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "Merchant life doesn't provide many opportunities for... companionship."

I feel a shudder of revulsion run through me. I know exactly what he's implying, and the thought of it makes me want to vomit.

But I can't let him see my fear. I have to keep my wits about me if I'm going to get out of this alive.

"Please," I say, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. "Let me go. I won't cause any trouble."

The captain laughs, a cruel sound that sends chills down my spine. "Oh, I don't think you understand, my dear. You're not going anywhere."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "In fact, I think you're going to be very useful to me."

I feel a surge of panic rise up in my chest, but I force it down. I can't let him see how scared I am. I have to find a way out of this.

But before he can act on his words, a sudden change in the sky draws everyone's attention. Rumbling storm clouds roll in as the wind picks up, whipping my hair up around me.

"It seems we'll have to entertain each other later, human bitch."

The captain's laughter rings in my ears as the crew throws me into the brig, the heavy door slamming shut behind me. I'm left in darkness, the only sound the howling wind and the crashing waves.

I huddle in the corner, my heart racing as I try to make sense of what's happening. The storm seems to be growing stronger by the minute, the ship creaking and groaning as it's tossed about on the waves.

I can hear the crew shouting orders above me, their voices barely audible over the roar of the storm. I know they're doing everything they can to keep the ship afloat, but I can't help feeling like I've been abandoned.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep warm. The brig is cold and damp, the air heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed. I can feel the ship pitching and rolling beneath me, my stomach lurching with every movement.

I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. I can't afford to panic, not now. I need to stay focused, to think of a way out of this.

But it's hard to think clearly when all I can hear is the storm raging around me. I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the darkness that surrounds me.

I don't know how long I sit there, lost in my thoughts. It feels like hours, but it could just as easily be minutes. Time seems to have lost all meaning in the chaos of the storm.

Suddenly, I hear a loud crash above me. The ship lurches violently, sending me sprawling across the floor. I scramble, looking for somewhere safe but only spotting a chest on its side, open with more gold than I could ever dream of spilling out. The last thing I hear is the sound of wood splintering, the screams of the crew as they're tossed about like ragdolls.

And then nothing.