Chapter 4

I never saw Nixie after that day…

Two hundred years passed since then and at times, I questioned whether she still wandered the Earth as I did, feeling like a piece of her was missing. I sighed, picturing her in my mind as I worked on a new piece of jewelry I was designing.

My little shop was situated in a market district of modern-day London. Outside my window, people walked by, holding bags and staring at their smartphones. So much had changed in two hundred years that sometimes it boggled my mind. I shook my head, knowing it was best not to think about it. What was so smart about them anyway?

Outside, someone stopped in front of the sign that said Slade Blackstone’s Custom Jewelry. I was advertising a new sale I had going on, hoping to attract some more customers. One day, this well-dressed individual crossed the threshold, holding a briefcase in his hand. “Excuse me, do you know where I can find Slade Blackstone?”

“You’re talking to him.” I chuckled, holding out my hand. He gave me a firm handshake, his thin lips pressing into a hard line.

“My name is Dillion McKenzie and I’m your finical advisor. I’ve tried to call you several times, but you never seem to return calls. So, I decided to make a house call. I hope you don’t mind.” He paused, giving me a sly look.

“Not at all,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. My features were calm and collected, but in reality, I wanted this man out of my store as soon as possible. I didn’t need anyone to tell me how to handle my money. I had been living in the lap of luxury for the last one hundred and fifty years!

“I’ve noticed that your stock price has taken quite the dive over the last quarter and so, I decided to do a bit of research. It seems like your pirate-themed line of jewelry isn’t selling very well, but you still funnel an extraordinary amount of money into production.” He walked up to one of my display cases, looking at the jewelry with disdain. “If you ask me, it’s nothing more than tacky costume jewelry and you waste perfectly good high-end materials on making more.” He looked up at me. “Is there somewhere we can talk about this in private?”

Getting a little frustrated by this man and his arrogance, it took a lot of willpower for me to smile at him. I walked up to the front door, closing it and flipping the sign to closed. “There,” I said through gritted teeth. Things were so much better when the government didn’t require businesses to be so regulated.

“I suppose that will do.” The man commented, seemingly unsatisfied. He sat down at my workbench, pushing some things aside to put down his briefcase. I sat down across from him, my eyes narrowing as he pulled out some papers. “Now, I think it’d be in your best interest if you considered some diversity. If your jewelry already has a reputation of being high-end costume jewelry, then you might as well ride the wave, so to speak, and expand into semi-precious stones. You can get them at quite a bargain.” The advisor pointed out some graphs he had printed out. “If you do that, then I can see profits increasing by at least two hundred percent.”

I couldn’t argue with the numbers. All the math seemed to be sound and I had no quibble to exploring other fields of the jewelry market. “Sure, that works. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Now Mr. Blackstone, I need you to take this seriously. This isn’t just some silly game. This is a business. There are people, like me, as well as the stockholders who put their faith into the success of this company and that depends on you.” He paused, shutting his briefcase with a heavy thud. “Not everyone has the benefit of being a trust fund baby like you.” His voice was nearly a hiss, accusing me. “Your parents may have been “new money,” but some of us still have to work for our living.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking his tone of voice. Still, I couldn’t help but laugh. He, like many others, believed my false identity as if it was written in stone. I nodded, being complacent. “I guess not. I’ll keep that in mind.” I tipped my head in his direction and he got up, grabbing his suitcase and leaving, letting the door slam behind him. I was glad to have him out of my store.

***

Later that night, I was even happier to be home. I had bought myself a grand house by the seaside. It was positioned precariously on the top of a cliff, but that’s how I liked it. It gave the home some character. It also provided some amazing views. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always able to take advantage of that. Most days, I was simply too tired.

Exhausted, I dove into my bed, falling asleep almost instantly. Quickly, I became submerged in the realm of nightmares.

I was back on Atlas’ ship. There was a sword in my hand, but it wasn’t mine. Already, the blade was covered in blood. I looked up, expecting to find the Pirate King in front of me, but instead, it was Nixie.

Her blue eyes were like diamonds, looking at me like I had just betrayed her. Behind her, King Atlas approached with his steps like booms of thunder. I was about to push her out of harm’s way when she collapsed to the ground. Everything seemed to stop.

To my left, a giant wave emerged, carrying a chariot pulled by elegant white steeds that seemed to gallop over the water. The wave curled, dipping down, about to crash. On its crest was Poseidon. His presence alone was enough to make the blood in my veins run cold. I stared at him in disbelief.

Suddenly, he crashed into the boat, swooping out and grabbing Nixie into his arms. “For you have harmed my sweet Queen, you’ll be eternally punished, roaming the Earth forevermore, never destined to find the love you seek.” With a surge of power, he slammed his trident into the deck and the wood cracked. The ship shattered under my feet and I found myself falling into a darkness that almost seemed to be eating me alive.

I woke up with a start, my whole body covered in sweat. I pushed my bangs out of my face and breathed hard, glaring out at the dimness of my bedroom. I half-expected to see the vengeful god grinning at me, but I was all alone. I looked down at my hand, remembering the golden ring Nixie had slipped on my finger when I was dying. Nixie was real. She had to be.