dear forgiveness / we have had our differences

     The crash of waves is a constant on his life, a sound that makes it difficult to hear footsteps on the sand even though he’s attuned to it, but this time he heard, and he did not react at the approach. Kalypso is the last person he wants to speak to.

     But then it isn’t Kalypso who speaks.

     He turns slowly toward the unfamiliar voice, his expression guarded. One of the other nymphs? Their faces blur together to him, but they speak to him sometimes. They’re hardly strangers. Some other god?

     Gods, in his experience, don’t like pointed questions about whether they’re gods.

     “Indeed, stranger.”   He’s wary, but there’s a spark of interest underneath. He hasn’t felt that in… far too long.   “You’ve come far out of your way.”   It’s not a far reach. Ogygia is far out of everyone’s way.

        this is unexpected. not that there’s ever anything mundane happening in their lives — the captain always seems to navigate them into trouble, and nix would love to blame that on the maps he’s seeking, but there’s every possibility it’s just him. slate’s not exactly known for taking the boring path. maybe she’d be bored if that happened, though; nix was raised on this ship, she’s been to so many different times she can’t remember them all, and she doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’d do living in one place, in one timeline.

        (she thinks about it, sometimes—who she’d be if her mother hadn’t died, if slate hadn’t whisked her away. but never to long. nix has enough guilt wrapped up in that as it is.)

        and now there’s a man on her deck, the rest of the crew is resupplying for their next voyage, and she’s alone. wonderful.  ❝ who are you? ❞and perhaps more importantly,  ❝ what are you doing aboard my ship? ❞