The Sea Witch

Clouds of ink and iron pressed against a leaden ocean. He found her waist-deep in the salty waters, fingers trailing in swirling sea foam, gaze cast to the storm promised heavy on the horizon. Winds tasting of seaweed and salt brine danced in her hair, tangling through long obsidian strands and tossing them into thickening air.  

From the dunes, he called to her.

 “Fair one," his hail drifted, swallowed by crashing surf. “I seek the Sea Witch.”

Only winds stirred in answer. Slowly, her head turned ever slightly to gaze over her shoulder. From great distance and obscured beneath wild strands of hair, her dark eyes locked to his with piercing intensity that struck his core like lightning. 

With a hum that rippled across the waves, she spoke. A harrowing voice of thousand-voices burrowed deep in his mind with a cold whisper of soft honey. “Is this what they call me these days?” 

Her lips curled—not to a smile, but something knowing. Something old.

“I’ve heard tales of your great power,” he cried, stepping closer to the waves, “Please. I seek your help.”

She laughed darkly from the water. “Great power.” She tasted the words, rolling them over her tongue like foam dissolving on the shore. Thunder rumbled on the horizon.

In an instant, she was before him, her face inches from his. She floated above a boiling sea, robes billowing over tumultuous waves that crashed to the shore with surging hunger. Energy crackled in the air, charged with a deep pulse that rivaled the burning winds. Her hair spiraled in silken waves before her, caressing his face, and her eyes, deep and endless, burned with intensity that could sink the largest of ships. 

“And did they call it great,” she whispered, her voice of thousand-voices quaking earth and thrumming his bones, “When they led me to the pyre?” The wind howled, tearing at his clothes, the salt stinging his eyes. “Did they call it great,” she continued, with increasing intensity, “when they bound my wrists, when they fed me to the flames?” 

He cowered before her as the sea swelled with hunger. 

“I surely think not.” She rose higher, straightening her form, bare feet brushing against churning waves. “And yet, still, here they slither to me, mewling for party tricks.” She looked down upon him with her chin raised. “Tell me then, boy,” she spat, laced with mockery, “what is it that you seek? Gold? Fame? Power, perhaps?” she tilted her head, “A place among kings?” She laughed and sea spray pelted his skin.  

With a forearm, he shielded his face and cried, “Please! I know not of your past, wise one.” The winds raged around him. “I seek a cure. My love is plagued with an illness that no medicine or healer can rid. I cannot bear to live without her."

The winds slowed, the waters calmed, and slowly, the Sea Witch descended. Her feet sunk in swirling sands beneath the surface, her dark hair to her sides. She eyed him thoughtfully, weighing his words. 

“Cannot live without her,” she echoed, just one voice falling from her lips, in stark contrast to the thousands before. Quiet waves lapped around her calves. “And this woman. She is your great love?” 

He ignored hairs pricking on his neck as her gaze bore into him. “She is everything to me.” 

She studied him, robes billowing in soft winds. “Yes,” she said quietly, “This, I will do.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” he cried, falling to his knees in the water before her.

She narrowed her eyes, looking down upon him. “But there is always a price.” 

“Oh! Yes! Yes, of course,” he stammered, scrambling in his pockets, “I have money.” 

Her voice of thousand-voices cracked like thunder. “I do not deal in coins, foolish boy.” The waves stirred hungrily around her feet before calming. Then, just one voice, brimming with disdain, “Your debt lies with the universe.” 

He stood up, trembling. He lifted his head to meet her fearsome gaze. “For her, I will pay any price.” 

Her lips twisted to a smile, sharp as glass. “Such conviction,” she murmured, almost to herself, “how valiant.” The softest chuckle emanated from her, like thunder rumbling on the horizon. She stepped forward, running a cold finger down his cheek. “Very well then. The deal is struck.” Her eyes flicked to his. “A life for a life.” 

His breath caught in his throat. 

With one swift movement, her hand shot to grip the back of his neck, fingers digging into his flesh as she pulled him close. The water swelled around them, ravenous and eager. She laughed, pulling him under and out to sea.

 As he sank, deeper, deeper, he thought only of his love. 

He thought of her laughter, bright and warm, ringing across wildflower meadows around their cottage. He thought of her smile, crooked and beautiful, and the soft hole it hitched in his chest each time she bore it. 

He thought of the night he fell for her, watching her dance, weaving and spinning between other party goers beneath the hanging wisteria. She’d smiled at him, waving to come join her. He’d held up his hands, sticking to the edges; he wasn’t much for dancing.

 If he could go back, if he could only go back, he’d join her in a heartbeat. 

Later, that same night, she’d led him under moonlight, dragging him by the hand through the wood to her favorite place. “Come on,” she'd whispered, her laughter echoing in the night, “I have to show you something.” She brought him to a hidden gazebo on the lily pond, where she'd kissed him, stolen and bold. 

The sea kissed him now, stealing air from his lungs as she had. He thrashed against its unwelcome embrace as it ran icy fingers deep into his chest. 

He thought of her illness. How quickly she’d waned. The doctors’ cold looks of detachment that made his blood boil. How they'd came and went, pricking her and bleeding her with leeches, giving all manner of vile treatments, until one day, one of them pulled him aside. “She’s too far gone for further treatment,” he’d said solemnly, “It would be best to sort affairs.”

His world had shattered then. Nothing. Nothing mattered but her. In blind desperation for something, anything, to keep her alive, he’d ignored the warnings that heeded the whispers and sought the spell weaver. The Sea Witch. 

As she pulled him into the depths, he could only hope that it was worth it.