The Eye of the Storm

So again, blindly, flip through

The parchment of mysteries available to us –

Ice that has become red-hot;

Love is more terrifying than war,

Love strikes more surely than steel.

Melnitsa, Love in the Wintertime

Everywhere she looked there was water. The sea extended around – vast, boundless. The sky was piercingly blue, not a single cloud in it, and mirrored in the water surface. Far, far away, water and sky blended together, making the horizon blurred and barely visible – partly because of this endless blueness, partly because of the white, Southern sun reflected in the sea and splashing the blinding glints around. Muggles on the deck were all wearing sunglasses, which didn't help much but it still was better than sitting in their stuffy cabins. The water smelled fresh, the wind felt warm and gentle, and it was like an oasis amidst a hot desert. The summer was about to end, but there – in Southern Europe – was no sign of the coming of autumn at all. It was one of the reasons why the figure dressed in black drew curious and compassionate eyes to herself every day. The curious ones clearly prevailed. The whole ship knew that she was the one who carried the casket which now rested in the hold. Fortunately, people didn't bother her with pointless talks. For the basic politeness suggested offering sympathy, and everyone was too lazy to express compassion these beautiful sunny days. Thank Merlin. But her deep black clothes inevitably drew attention: noisy, garrulous Muggles walked around the ship in their gaudy shorts, vests, sundresses, swimsuits, men often half-naked even. And, among this summer crowd, there she was – in her long black dress and her black hat with a veil, looking like a gloomy raven in a flock of parrots. She hadn't made any acquaintances, but all passengers somehow already knew that she was carrying her husband's body back to the homeland. The irony of the situation almost made her hysterically laugh. Yes. A widow. Who would have thought! A widow of a man who was going to live forever. It's funny how the half of her life was based on lies, but now, at this exact moment, after the critical turning point of her whole existence, there was no lie in her words when she had told the Muggle captain about her marital status. And that stupid veil, because of which her face was sweating like hell and which didn't help her anyhow with the burning sun – she started to wear that veil only to hide her too-young appearance. She still remembered the captain's countenance when she had shown him the documents for transport and could tell without any Legilimency what he had thought about. ‘A girl so young – and has already lost her husband!’ Compassion was unbearable. Especially from strangers. Especially from those who didn't actually care. Especially from those who knew nothing about her. Her departure on the ship crossing the Adriatic Sea was more of a running away. Of course, if the word 'running' is appropriate at all when most of your baggage is the casket with a dead body in it. And still… yes, it was a runaway. A fortress had fallen, troops were defeated, lands were devastated, the foe triumphed, and the vultures were feasting on the bones. She had lost everything and wasn't even sure if she had really managed to hide without being followed. Though, this question was merely a minor nuisance. When your soul is burned to the ground, there is just no place for strong worries. Because, for the last few weeks, only one thought lived in her mind, feeling more like an obsession. She would wake up with this thought in the morning and fall asleep with it as the thin strip of dawn started to blaze. She just wished to reach the land… She just wished to finish the job – to deliver her cargo to its destination. To end the trip. After that, the whole world could burn in flames, it didn't matter. The waves rose rhythmically. Calm, seeming to whisper… and, at the same time, apathetic. It was their indescribable charm and paralyzing horror. ‘I respect the sea. It'll never obey a wizard, no matter how powerful they are. Even me,’ so he had told her once. To kill some time, she closes her eyes and remembers everything. For a long time, her life has no longer been uneventful and steady, but it's hard to imagine how many things can happen in a matter of just a couple of years. And that two years ago she would never guess that her whole world would turn upside down – making her the happiest of the women, and then crushing her into dust. And how trivial, boring even, it had all started. Yes, it was the end of August, too, 1994. When the whole wizarding society was poised, waiting for the Quidditch World Cup.