Her hand trembled as she clutched the rosary beads between her fingers. She tried to focus on the prayer that she murmured on her breath, but couldn’t help herself trailing off every few seconds. She was evil, according to all standards of society. But she could not bring herself to feel evil. She had loved her god above anything else. Sacrificed her life, all of her love, her entire being to the goodness of god. To show others the love and mercy she felt so deeply in heart. It was sadly ironic that exactly the people that she had shared her efforts and the love of god with, were the ones who had required her to die. It left a bad taste in her mouth and heart, that seeped through into her faith. Her prayer faltered. For the thousandth time she wondered whether this god was worth praying to as both this god and his followers had betrayed her so badly.
Yet here she was. Trying to pray with her rosary beads, wearing the habit of nuns that she had worn for so long. She tried to time the words with the cadence of the swaying movements of the vessel. Her thoughts drifted between the prayer and the new power she now held. She couldn’t fathom how people considered her evil and why they wanted her to die. She would never use any of her powers for the bad. Her entire life attested to her commitment to good, to love. But unfortunately the girl she’d saved was already at the bottom of the lake. She shivered, draped a blanket over her legs and closed her eyes. The earlier they’d arrive in the new world, the better. She returned to her prayer, but the serenity she tried to regain so desperately shattered.
Someone shouted and it was followed by a series of thunders that rumbled through the ship. Woken from her transcendent state, she had to hold on to the uncomfortable berth she sat on. She almost dropped the rosary beads. She heard heavy feet running above her and the deck creaked under heavy objects that were dragged over it. She must have missed something during the trance she felt during her prayer, but above her a tumult broke loose that she had not heard before. Though she knew better, she hoped there wouldn’t be too much trouble ahead of her. She wanted to go out, to check what was going on. But not only would she be useless in any situation, the captain had made it very clear she was to stay below deck at any given time. She thought about her new power. Her newfound power that had destroyed her life. Put everything upside down. She might be able to help with that, but she didn’t know how.
It was very peculiar though. She had chosen this specific vessel for her voyage to the new world, specifically cause it was owned by the Verenigd Oost-Indische Compagnie, or the VOC - a Dutch trading company that pretty much ruled the seas. Who would dare to attack a convoy of three heavily armed ships. There was no way pirates would dare. She wouldn’t know for sure until she checked, but she didn’t dare.
She focused on her prayer again. The noise above her did not stop. Another shout and yet another rush of thunder ran through the ship. She tightened her grip on the edges of her berth. This time, the vessel swung more violently and she was almost tipped out of her bed. She crammed herself with her knees and back in a tight position so she was stuck and let her thoughts flow as she let the rosary beads run through her fingers. She let her thoughts flow with the back and forth rocking of the vessel. Let her thoughts flow with the thunders, screams and loud bangs that were the battle above her.
After a while the thunder stopped and was replaced by swords clashing and less loud explosions that sounded mute in her bunk. This kept going for a while, before the sound seemed to die down and no more swords were clashing. Heavy steps on the stairs shook her from her trance-like state, someone was coming. She heard someone shout before the wooden board above her head exploded in a flurry of wood splinters. She heard a sickening thump in front of her door and a crimson liquid started running into the her small room underneath the door.
“Open the door” Someone shouted with a heavy Spanish accent, pounding the door.
Spanish. She felt as if the floor plummeted away underneath her and shivers ran down her spine. Devil Spawn. That's how the High Inquisitor Alguado called her before he ordered the guards to take her away for questioning. It was the kind of questioning that would leave you confessing, or die denying the charge. It was death either way. But how did they find her?
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“Open the door, witch! We know you are here!” The same voice shouted. “You won't escape us again!”
She squared her shoulders and laid her hand on the hatch that secured the door. Resisting in the cabin would be foolish. She didn't control her gift that well yet. She opened the door and stepped back to allow the Spanish to enter.
“That's a good girl.” The man said with a demonic smile. “You didn’t actually think you could escape god's justice, did you?”
He stepped back from the small room and gestured for one of his cronies to bind her. He ripped the hood from her habit, then spat on the floor in front of him with a face of disgust. It was clear what he thought of her still wearing the clothes she had worn for over twelve years. He jeered at her, then hoisted her over his shoulders. She suppressed a scream when he stepped over the dead sailor that was sent to protect her from the attackers.
He dumped her on the quarterdeck like a sack of potatoes, spat at her again and then stalked off. Several lifeless bodies lay sprawling on the main and quarterdeck, but most Dutchmen were sitting on the deck in groups, hands and feet bound as were hers. They surrendered as soon as they realized defeat.
“There she is.” The smooth, complacent tone was familiar to her ear. It was the high inquisitor Alguada himself. “You thought to escape? You thought to spoil the new world with your... Disease?”
She struggled to keep her mouth shut, yet she managed to clamp her jaws together. This man did not deserve a reply. Did not deserve to know how much he and her so-called friends hurt her. Her new power - no, her gift - was new to her. But it did save several people from certain death in the past by giving in to her urge to use it. Right now the power seemed to burn in her veins as if to burst from her chest. Like she did before, she surrendered to it. Lavished herself in the pure raw energy that it provided. High Inquisitor Alguada was gloating at her. He was unaware she embraced that raw river of life and death inside of her. The power that led the High Inquisitor to hate her in the first place. Who renounced her, who tried to burn her at the stake and had taken the pure love of god away from her. She hated him the way she never hated anyone in her life. The power raging through her amplified that hatred and all she thought of was how to destroy that pathetic excuse of a man.
“I can only imagine God led us here to find you this fast,.” Alguado said. Stretching the word god the way self-righteous men use when they abuse it to hurt others. “You fled for the judgment of god and will now, finally, face his mercy.”
She found herself smiling at the idea of destroying this man. Smiling at the different ways she could destroy him while her hands were bound and she was discarded on the deck like a harmless kitten. She smiled as she struggled to get up with her shackles on the swaying deck.
“I believe so too” she said with a wide grin and she released the power.
High Inquisitor Alguado’s expression changed from contempt to fear as a torrent of water erupted from the stern of the boat. She manipulated the flow of water as she manipulated the power and the column of water split into four and crashed onto the deck. The Spires of water crashed into the Spanish forces on both the Dutch and the Spanish vessels. The Spanish screamed as they were crushed under the sheer weight and power of the water that slammed them onto the deck. Those who were still alive and able to move tried desperately to hold onto the deck before they flushed into the wide ocean. She manipulated the flows of power and the water reunited into a raging column of water that arced over the deck.
“And now you killed them all” She whispered at the High Inquisitor. “Praise the lord”
The high inquisitor did not respond to her challenge, nor did he respond to her blasphemy. He gaped at the column of water, then at the broken men that weren’t flushed off the deck. His eyes almost popped out of his skill, then turned to her. She savored herself in the disbelief in his eyes. She lavished herself in the way his expression changed from disbelief to pure, unadulterated dread. She never thought she could have enjoyed someone else's fear the way she did now.
“Now for you..High Inquisitor.” She cackled as she stepped towards him.