Bound by the Sea

The clock ticked backward, but no one else seemed to notice. The hands of time slid in reverse, each passing second pulling the room into an eerie hush. Ava leaned closer to the antique timepiece in the tavern’s corner, her knuckles brushing its worn brass frame. A relic of another world, she thought, just like him. Across the room, a man in a faded coat of blue sat nursing his ale, the crimson sash tied at his waist out of place in this ordinary town. His face, though shadowed, bore a story Ava couldn’t shake—a tale etched in salt and scars.

Ava approached cautiously, sliding into the seat across from him. The stranger glanced up, his sharp eyes pinning her with an intensity that spoke of storms weathered and battles fought. He tilted his head, studying her like one might a map.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “The Crimson Tide.”

The name hung between them, drawing a flicker of something unreadable across his face. He took a deliberate sip of his drink before answering. “Haven’t heard that name in years. Can’t imagine why you’d bring it up now.”

Ava leaned forward. “The clock—it’s ticking backward. And you—well, I think you know why.”

His laugh was low and bitter. “Superstition’s a dangerous game, girl.”

But Ava wasn’t backing down. “I’ve read the accounts. The raids, the gold, the ships that disappeared under your flag. They say you defied death itself, Captain.”

The man—Captain Elias Cain—finally met her eyes head-on. The tavern noise faded, leaving just the rhythmic ticking of the backward clock.

“Defying death,” Cain said quietly, “has its costs.”

The waves crashed violently against the deck as thunder split the night sky. Cain gripped the wheel, his crew scrambling to secure the sails. The storm had come out of nowhere, chasing them down with feral rage. At its center, a whirlpool swirled unnaturally, a black maw threatening to consume the Crimson Tide.

“Captain!” a younger man, barely more than a boy, shouted over the din. “She’s gonna take us!”

Cain didn’t flinch, his hands steady on the wheel. “Hold fast, Marcus! She won’t.”

The boy—Marcus, his first mate—trusted him implicitly, even as the sea turned against them. Cain had made a deal once, long ago, under a blood moon and the shadow of a gallows tree. Time for gold, immortality for loyalty. It had seemed a bargain worth making. But Cain’s debts had come due in the form of this storm.

Lightning illuminated the whirlpool, and for a moment, Cain swore he saw faces in the waves—souls he’d cast overboard for the promise of power. A cold certainty settled in his chest: the storm wasn’t natural. It was calling him home.

With a wrench of the wheel, he guided the ship toward the heart of the vortex. “Marcus,” he shouted, “you’ll steer her back to shore.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “Captain, no—”

“This ship’s my curse, boy. You’re her redemption.”

Cain didn’t wait for an argument. By the time Marcus reached the wheel, the captain had vanished, a shadow swallowed by the storm. The Crimson Tide survived that night, but Cain had become a legend.

Now, decades later, Marcus sat across from Ava, disguised as a nameless sailor. “You wanted answers,” Cain said, his voice heavy with the weight of years. “The clock’s a warning. Time’s unraveling.”

Ava frowned. “Why here? Why now?”

He gave her a long, measuring look. “Because of you. You’re not just some curious girl poking at old stories. You’re tied to it, to me. The Crimson Tide carried more than gold, Ava. It carried legacies. Bloodlines. The ship, the storm—it’s all tied to a cycle.”

Her breath hitched as the words sank in. “You’re saying I’m part of this?”

Cain nodded. “The curse doesn’t end until its debt is paid. And you’re holding the final piece.”

Ava reached into her pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal she’d found days ago near the beach—a coin etched with symbols she couldn’t decipher. She pulled it out and placed it on the table. The coin gleamed under the tavern’s dim light, and the backward ticking of the clock grew louder, almost frantic.

Cain’s expression hardened. “You kept it.”

“You left it behind,” she countered.

He chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. “It’s not mine to keep.”

Before either of them could speak again, the tavern door slammed open, a gust of icy wind sweeping through the room. A figure stood silhouetted against the storm outside, its features hidden beneath a dripping hood.

Cain’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Time’s up.”

The figure stepped inside, pulling back its hood to reveal a woman’s face, pale and weathered as driftwood. Her eyes fixed on Cain, then shifted to Ava. “You’ve meddled long enough, Captain,” she said. “And you’ve brought her into it.”

Cain rose slowly, shielding Ava with his frame. “She’s not part of this.”

The woman smiled coldly. “Oh, but she is. The coin binds her, just as it bound you.”

Ava gripped the coin tightly, her pulse racing. “What does it mean?”

The woman tilted her head. “It means you have a choice. Return what was stolen, or join the Crimson Tide in its endless voyage.”

Cain’s jaw tightened. “She’s just a girl.”

“No one’s just anything,” the woman replied. Her gaze bored into Ava. “Well? What’ll it be?”

Ava’s heart pounded as she looked between them. The clock’s ticking slowed, each second stretching into eternity. Finally, she placed the coin on the table.

“Take it,” she said.

The woman nodded, scooping up the coin. “Wise choice.”

As she turned to leave, the clock’s hands shuddered and began ticking forward again. The storm outside faded, replaced by an eerie calm.

Cain exhaled, sinking back into his chair. “You did the right thing.”

Ava shook her head. “Did I? Or did I just buy time?”

He smiled grimly. “That’s all any of us ever do.”