Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

Don’t . . . Kellen begged, understanding both the betrayal and the truth by the look in Kanaloa’s eyes; how the elder Sancul had known all along that Kellen had never been the Moros he pretended to be. Lost with the understanding that Kanaloa would no longer aid him, Kellen imagined his doom soon to come. His lip quivering, he reflected back on the last, weeping song of the Ancient beast that the Sancul had slain in Mnemosyne to heal his broken body. Please. He begged of Kanaloa, knowing it for a lost cause. Don’t do this.

We must, child, said Kanaloa, smiling. But fear not. Soon, all your pain shall be ended, the blight upon your memory banished forever as the pain of remembrance works through you in full.

Kanaloa dug his fingernails into Kellen’s shoulder, then. Each of them skewered his flesh as if they were nails meant to pin him against the stone.

The pain that came after was worse.

Kellen screamed with the wracking wave of it flooding through him. His back arched in aching agony upon the white-marbled bed, even as he held no control over the movement.

When Kanaloa’s hand struggled to keep Kellen pinned upon the stone bed, the elder Sancul used the full weight and strength of his tentacles to press and hold his captive down again.

Kellen’s mind swam once more, his vision alternating between stilted colors and darkness. Please . . . he begged to any that would listen, knowing none of the Sancul would. Help me. I-I don’t want to die.

No, child, said Kanaloa. Cease your worries and your fears . . . He motioned for Phantasos to reposition Kellen’s head once more, again forcing him to look up at the pair of opposing doors above. For death holds no power over those who have discovered its secrets, favored one, Kanaloa purred. Truly, it is a new and better life awaiting you now on the Other side.

Kellen’s eyes stung with warmth when the last of the poison overtook his face. In his last moments, Kellen’s gaze narrowed upon the doors and beyond them too.

The mated pair swam together atop the highest shadowed ledge, their expressions as opposite as the manner in which they conversed with Kellen since he came among the Sancul. Wrapped in her husband’s strong embrace, Kellen looked into the face of his earthly mother, losing himself in the concern laced in her emerald eyes. For all that he saw from Nyx, Kellen understood then that it was more curious intrigue she held for all that lay ahead, not the true worry he remembered from his mother ashore before she too had abandoned him.

You’re not her. Kellen understood the deeper truth, then. You were never her.

The Salt soaked up his tears as he submitted himself to the grief of abandonment he had long held and kept buried deep within. Through blurred eyes, he looked away from Nyx, not wanting to see his mother again in any form; neither the real one, nor the memory of her that Nyx pretended to be. Instead, Kellen Winstel found himself using his final moments to stare into the truer concern and apologetic gaze of another that he had always imagined as his enemy.

Erebus . . . Kellen wept. You were right! H-Help me. Please!

For all the wrinkling of his brow, the likewise suffering that Kellen witnessed living upon the face of Erebus, the mammoth Sancul would not budge from his position, or his wife.

It is too late for you now, Kellen read in the marbled gaze of Erebus. Far too late for you, Creature . . . and I did warn you.

The Sancul poison overtook his body and mind in full, then, casting him into true and utter darkness, and all that Kellen Winstel knew in life was stolen from him.

28

SYDNEY

Sydney trembled when Solomon and his Orcs led into her dungeon cell. This is it, isn’t it? Today is the day they’re going to execute Mom. She closed her eyes, then, imagining her mother’s face and that of another mentor too.

Be brave, Sydney . . . the quiet voice of her fallen godmother, Yvla, whispered from memory. Be brave.

Help me to be strong, Yvla. Sydney prayed, swallowing another breath of Salt water when Solomon ordered the others to remove her from the tank. Help me to be brave for Mom today.

She continued the mantra with every step taken on the same path that the Orcs had led her down all the previous days of her mother’s trial. For each and every dungeon door passed by, Sydney wondered if still more of her friends resided inside their walls, trapped in darkness, unknowing that she traipsed by their doors. Are you alive, Ellie? She wondered. Garrett? Where are you now? Her eye stung with the thought of their faces and names, the knowledge of all to come.

Sydney banished all thoughts of them with the idea of what Yvla, or her brother, Quill would say. Stop crying! She squinted her eyes closed to fend off the tears and weakness surging through her. Don’t let them see you weak and afraid. You have to be brave now. You have to be brave for Mom and Owens and Amelia too. They’ve all suffered far more than you.

Though she attempted to hold some bravery in the face of her captors and circumstances, Sydney could not hold off the flood behind her eyes. Drowning in grief for all that she knew to come, Sydney numbly walked the tunnel and ventured into the cell where the Silkie handmaidens awaited her. She scarcely felt the frigid water of her bath and the hard scrubbings from the handmaidens preparing her to again wear the role of a New Pearlaya princess. Be brave, Sydney, she repeated over and again, even as her body trembled with the cold and her fears. Be brave . . .

When all was done, Solomon and the other Orcs marched her onward through the Nautilus tunnels, Sydney again