Arneia

Today, our series comes to an end. I know, it seems weird since we’re in the middle of a month. I’ll explain that on Monday, don’t worry.

I really hope that you’ve enjoyed getting to know some of my characters, as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing them with you. They all hold special places in my heart, even the ones who’ve annoyed me to no end. And today I’m sharing one who means a lot to me. She plays an important role in this world, and in the lives of more people than even she knows. And she’ll end up playing a pivotal role in the final installment of the Druid Novels.

Everyone, meet my first person narrator: the witch of the Dwr.

Arneia

(I was trying to make her hair look wet — how'd I do?)

Arneia was one of the characters who I just connected with from the very beginning. I never found her difficult to write. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I could’ve written the whole book from her point of view, and had no trouble whatsoever. That was how much she and I connected. I laughed with her, I cried with her, and I grew with her.

This scene is a very pivotal one in the story, one that you’ll all know is coming from the very beginning, and one that I looked forward to from the start.

I hope that you all enjoy it, and that you’ll stick around in the next few months as my publishers get ready to announce the release date of this beautiful addition to the Druid Novel series.

Excerpt #3 from Dwr: People in the Water, by Rani Divine

©Copyright RAD Writing, 2016

I swam beneath the human’s vessel, ushering some of the swimmers away as I did so. The nets were being pulled up, and it wouldn’t be long before the swimmers were once again dragged up onto the deck to become the victims of the humans. This was their way of surviving. They needed sustenance, in the same way that the Dewin required it. But for them, it was not necessary that their sustenance be given to them by the world around them. For my people, the coral would drop their polyps into our hands, and we would eat. We did not require much, nor were we required to consume as frequently as humans, but still we ate. This much, I understood. I knew also that they would never find the island without our assistance—not the way they were moving now. They likely had no idea that the island even existed, only they hoped that it did.

It was a hopeful thought, to know that Malcolm and his people wanted a better home, a better life. They didn’t want to be associated with the humans who lived in the plains. To them, those people they’d left behind were the scum of the earth. It fascinated me that they were even allowed to think or say such things about each other, as the future rulers of this world. There was no telling how long it would be before my people, and the people of my sisters among the Dewin, were taken from this world. Humans would have to learn to live with each other sooner or later, and it seemed most appropriate to me that they learn now, when there was still time and the Dewin still remained among them.

For now, however, there was little that could be done on the matter.

These had already left their home in the plains, and they searched for a home anew. I would not show it to them until I knew that they could be trusted, that they would not actively seek out and destroy members of my people. In truth, that was all that I could ask of them.

Now, I released a few of the swimmers from my arms and turned back toward the ship. Since Mira’s stunt yesterday, more and more of my people had been entering the nets in an effort to rescue as many swimmers as possible. I didn’t know what they hoped to gain by prolonging the time the humans remained in this place, casting their nets in search of sustenance, but I could no longer prevent them. I’d followed their example more than once this day alone, with Afon at my side.

The swimmers were my ward. I had to care for them in any way that I possibly could. That meant that I would resort even to this, to ignoring the people aboard the ship and the needs of their bodies, in order to preserve the lives of those I held most dear. The swimmers were mine to care for, given to me by the Vartes. Many of them would die at the jaws of the sharks or the other predators: it could not be prevented. But the lives lost to the humans were avoidable, in many ways.

Another of the nets was pulled up from the depths, catching over a hundred of the swimmers within its embrace. Unthinkingly, I swam toward it as quickly as I possibly could. I reached my arm inside from the top and retrieved as many of them as I could. It was already far too late for anyone to jump within the arms of this net and save the majority of the swimmers.

“Fyddech chi'n gadael iddyn nhw farw?” Mira asked as she swam closer to me. “You would let them die?” I knew by now what she was trying to do, why she had stayed here even after I’d asked her to leave and shown her that there was no reason to remain in the absence of her master. My sister had been ordered to goad me, to anger me and make me hate what she had become.

To my disgrace and shame, it had begun to work. Her eyes stared into mine, and I was pained at the sight of them. I did not want to believe that my own sister could grow to hate me, that she could so easily be turned against the Vartes, against her own sister. This was not the Mira I’d grown up with. She was no longer my sister. Yet, every time I looked into her eyes, I saw only the gaze of my mother’s daughter.

“Rwy'n arbed cymaint ag y gallaf,” I replied, watching as the net was pulled up onto the ship and another was cast off the opposite side. “I save as many as I can.”

“Maent yn eich ward. Onid ydych yn gweld?” She swam closer to me and took hold of one of my wrists. “They are your ward. Do you not see?” She tugged on my arm and pointed up onto the deck of the ship, where even now many of the swimmers were being gutted. Blood spilled down off the ship and into the water. Sharks already patrolled the outer edges of this region, being kept at bay only by the magic of my people. When the nets finally ceased, they would feast on the parts cast off by the humans, the pieces that these people had no desire to consume.

“Yr wyf gwrach, chwaer. Rwy'n gweld i gyd,” I breathed, forcing my eyes back down onto the last of the nets. “I am witch, sister. I see all.” I’d kept count every time they’d dropped the nets to fish, and if I’d counted properly, this would be the last.

“Byddwch yn gweld dim ond yr hyn yr ydych am ei weld,” Mira replied. “You see only what you wish to see.” She released my arm and swam closer to the vessel, watching to see when they would begin to pull the net back up.“Ydych chi hyd yn oed yn gwybod faint sydd wedi marw heddiw?” she asked. “Do you even know how many have died this day?”

A shark snapped its jaws on the other side of the line, and she flinched at the sound. Instinct. Even my people had something to fear in the predators of these waters. We never knew what they were thinking, what they would do. But I doubted that my sister would ever be willing to give her life for one of them, as all of us had been asked to do.

“Rwy'n gwybod y bydd yna fwy os na fyddwn yn ofalus,” I said. “I know there will be more if we are not careful.” I attempted to take her hand, and she only swam closer to the net.

Slowly, like a shroud of mist moving over the waters, the net began to rise. My sister turned toward me, hatred in her eyes. I knew she would not attempt to rescue any of those now caught in the nets, not after everything she’d said to me now. She wanted me to prove that I was willing to give my life for my ward. Her eyes pierced into mine, and she did not look away. Even as I turned and swam into the net, catching up an armful of the swimmers to throw from the trap, I felt her eyes upon me.

I cast the swimmers up and out of the net, and I took hold of the edge to follow. But before I could move, Mira’s hand covered mine. The net was pulled tight, all the edges now breaking the surface of the water. In that moment, I finally understood the true purpose of my sister’s presence. It wasn’t simply to goad me, to make me feel pain over all that had happened. She was here to trick me, to trap me, and to throw me into what she believed was a den of the most vicious of creatures.

“Hwyl fawr, chwaer,” she said as she looked up at me, her expression consumed by malice. “Goodbye, sister.” “Efallai y bydd eich pobl yn drugarog yn eich tranc.” She smiled. “May your humans be merciful in your demise.”

The net was pulled higher from the water, and I struggled to be free. I shouted down to my sister. I watched as some of the others came to my aid, only to be held back by Afon. He would not allow them to risk their lives—not even for me. It was well. I would’ve ordered him to do that very thing.

Being dragged from the depths, from the only place I had ever known as my home, I felt the cold air rush upon my body. Swimmers surrounded me, those that I’d been unable to save. Fear crashed down upon me, and I prayed to the Vartes that there was another way, that there must have been something I could do to get out of this situation. I prayed for aid, that someone would loose the end of the rope and the net would crash back into the sea.

I felt the wooden surface of the ship beneath me as the net was finally dragged up onto the deck and my ward spilled from its hold. My own body betrayed me, thrashing against the air that surrounded me. This was not my home. I could breathe air, yes, but I could not survive for long in this place.

         I screamed.