Somewhere to the north, on seas men rarely sail ...
No sooner had the lookout given the customary shout of "Land ho!", announcing to the crew that land was in sight that a strange wind had kicked up. Dark, stormy clouds rolled in as if from nowhere, the seas becoming choppy with waves, but the incoming storm was the least of the ship's problems. They had been trying for some time to outrun and outmaneuver another ship - one that was bigger than theirs and that had her outgunned. A ship that flew a black flag bearing a skull and crossbones identifying her as a pirate ship that would take no quarter. Had it not been for the quick change in weather, they might have outrun her, but now that the wind was not cooperating, they had no choice but to stand and fight.
There was a young man on board the vessel who wasn't part of the regular crew. He'd booked passage back in Rhy'Din with a specific destination in mind, not telling anyone but the ship's captain the reason for his voyage. Reluctant at first, the captain had agreed after the young man had told him his tale and given him something that proved he wasn't lying. Chasing after a dream, fulfilling a promise, pursuing adventure - these were the reasons the young man found himself on board the doomed vessel that fateful day in August, and this is where his adventure really begins.
The first sign of real trouble came when Cian heard a loud boom. The ship was in chaos, men and boys rushing here and there, readying for battle, the wind howling and the sea thrashing, tossing the ship here and there. Shouts went up from the captain to the crew, yelling orders over the howl of the wind, the blast of the cannons, and the spray of the sea. Rain poured down in buckets making it impossible to see. Fighting a battle in these conditions was madness at best, but the ship with the black flag bore down on them relentlessly, and Cian knew why. It was him they were after - him and the treasure map he had memorized in his head.
"Get yourself below deck, lad!" the ship's captain shouted at Cian, but Cian shook his head, tossing wet hair away from his face.
"I'm not a child. I can fight as well as anyone!" he shouted back over the din. There was truth to what he said, and the captain knew it, having witnessed him best more than one of his officers with a blade.
"Bloody hell," the captain muttered, having taken a shine to the lad, though he was starting to think he might not live long enough to tell him that. "Just try to stay out of the way. If they try to board us, we'll need you."
It was the last thing Cian heard the ship's captain say, as there was another loud boom as a cannon ball ripped through the ship's bow, tearing her open, making her list to one side. Waves of choppy water washed up onto the deck, men screaming as they were knocked off balance, some falling into the drink. The pirate ship was having no better luck as a bolt of lightning struck the mainmast, splitting the ship right down the middle, as if she'd been struck a blow by the gods.
Chaos ensued, everything taking on a dream-like quality, as though Cian were trapped in the midst of a nightmare. Only it was no nightmare, but stark reality. The ship tilted to one side, men rushing here and there, but she was taking on water too quickly, and bailing was no use. The cry went up to "Abandon ship!" just as a loud crack was heard, deafeningly loud over the crackle of lightening and the rumble of thunder that sounded too much like cannonfire. Cian lost his balance as he struggled to fight his way toward the longboats that would take them to safely from the sinking vessel, but before he could get there, there was another loud crack as the mizzenmast broke off and toppled to the deck, knocking him off his feet.
The sea rolled again, a huge wave washing over the deck, swallowing up men, weapons, cargo, and debris into the rollicking sea. Swept along by the wave, Cian struggled to grab hold of anything that would keep him afloat, fingers grasping anything within reach. His fingers found purchase on loose timber of wood, but just as he was about to grab hold, a cask of ale rolled its way into the sea, striking a glancing blow at his head, knocking him senseless. The shrieks of the men and the roar of the sea gave way to nothing but silence as the sea swallowed him up in into darkness.
The chaos above the surface seemed to drift out of all sense and feeling. As men and cargo sank beneath the tumultuous waves, all sound and feeling seemed to ebb away from them. Daylight only reached far enough to illuminate their descent through the beautiful blue of the ocean. Only some few ever saw what else moved through that water. Figures darted from the deeper blue beneath, indistinct to the eyes of the men already drowning. Tails swept by, arms reached out, and each man taken was dragged down into the depths, denied any hope of breaking the surface once again. All but one, who drifted downward, dazed amid the sinking casks and cargoes, hidden from the most casual glance of those determined killers, darting back and forth between the sinking ships.
Hands reached for Cian, tucking beneath his arms, a lithe body pressed to his back as he was pulled along ....not downward as so many of his comrades and enemies were, but toward the land, into a thicker nest of sinking cargo. The motion stopped, and that body flitted about, struggling to keep him level with the crates and casks that concealed him from view. A cloud of golden hair swept in front of his face, green eyes peering through the stormy water to study him. Fingers pinched his nostrils shut, and suddenly a mouth sealed over his, sucking to draw the water from his lungs. A moment later, and clean air was breathed into him, the delicate mouth closing his lips before retreating. The arms wrapped about him once again, and that sense of motion returned, a rhythmic swish that propelled him through the water toward the looming darkness of land.
The darkness of the storm and the battle and the wrecked ship gave way to another kind of darkness, one that was as peaceful as it was terrifying. At first, Cian thought he was dead, but if he was dead, why was his head pounding like someone was hammering at his brain? Barely conscious, he was aware of movement, like he was being tugged along by a force he could not quite comprehend just yet. He thought he felt soft, cool lips against his and he struggled to open his eyes, but they only fluttered briefly allowing him a glimpse of gold hair like a halo, and eyes that were as green as emeralds.
As above them the storm began to subside, so too did the darkness of the water begin to lighten as he was pulled against the current, his silent rescuer stopping every now and then to take the air from his lungs with that soft mouth and replace it with fresh breath to keep him alive. The crowded sea faded into the deeps, men and ships and the creatures dragging them down disappearing from view. And suddenly, his head broke the surface, the gentle arms around him holding him up as the owner of those green eyes struggled through ever shallower water, finally forced to drag him by his collar as his body snagged on soft sand still swept by waves.
Perhaps he heard the sounds of effort that broke from the lips he'd tasted in his unconsciousness, feminine and rushed and straining as the arms that had been so strong below the water now found it hard to pull him to safety. When, finally, it seemed he was safe from the grasp of the waves, out of sight of whatever it was that would otherwise have wanted him dead, his rescuer released him, and collapsed, breathless, to the sand at his side.
No sooner had the lookout given the customary shout of "Land ho!", announcing to the crew that land was in sight that a strange wind had kicked up. Dark, stormy clouds rolled in as if from nowhere, the seas becoming choppy with waves, but the incoming storm was the least of the ship's problems. They had been trying for some time to outrun and outmaneuver another ship - one that was bigger than theirs and that had her outgunned. A ship that flew a black flag bearing a skull and crossbones identifying her as a pirate ship that would take no quarter. Had it not been for the quick change in weather, they might have outrun her, but now that the wind was not cooperating, they had no choice but to stand and fight.
There was a young man on board the vessel who wasn't part of the regular crew. He'd booked passage back in Rhy'Din with a specific destination in mind, not telling anyone but the ship's captain the reason for his voyage. Reluctant at first, the captain had agreed after the young man had told him his tale and given him something that proved he wasn't lying. Chasing after a dream, fulfilling a promise, pursuing adventure - these were the reasons the young man found himself on board the doomed vessel that fateful day in August, and this is where his adventure really begins.
The first sign of real trouble came when Cian heard a loud boom. The ship was in chaos, men and boys rushing here and there, readying for battle, the wind howling and the sea thrashing, tossing the ship here and there. Shouts went up from the captain to the crew, yelling orders over the howl of the wind, the blast of the cannons, and the spray of the sea. Rain poured down in buckets making it impossible to see. Fighting a battle in these conditions was madness at best, but the ship with the black flag bore down on them relentlessly, and Cian knew why. It was him they were after - him and the treasure map he had memorized in his head.
"Get yourself below deck, lad!" the ship's captain shouted at Cian, but Cian shook his head, tossing wet hair away from his face.
"I'm not a child. I can fight as well as anyone!" he shouted back over the din. There was truth to what he said, and the captain knew it, having witnessed him best more than one of his officers with a blade.
"Bloody hell," the captain muttered, having taken a shine to the lad, though he was starting to think he might not live long enough to tell him that. "Just try to stay out of the way. If they try to board us, we'll need you."
It was the last thing Cian heard the ship's captain say, as there was another loud boom as a cannon ball ripped through the ship's bow, tearing her open, making her list to one side. Waves of choppy water washed up onto the deck, men screaming as they were knocked off balance, some falling into the drink. The pirate ship was having no better luck as a bolt of lightning struck the mainmast, splitting the ship right down the middle, as if she'd been struck a blow by the gods.
Chaos ensued, everything taking on a dream-like quality, as though Cian were trapped in the midst of a nightmare. Only it was no nightmare, but stark reality. The ship tilted to one side, men rushing here and there, but she was taking on water too quickly, and bailing was no use. The cry went up to "Abandon ship!" just as a loud crack was heard, deafeningly loud over the crackle of lightening and the rumble of thunder that sounded too much like cannonfire. Cian lost his balance as he struggled to fight his way toward the longboats that would take them to safely from the sinking vessel, but before he could get there, there was another loud crack as the mizzenmast broke off and toppled to the deck, knocking him off his feet.
The sea rolled again, a huge wave washing over the deck, swallowing up men, weapons, cargo, and debris into the rollicking sea. Swept along by the wave, Cian struggled to grab hold of anything that would keep him afloat, fingers grasping anything within reach. His fingers found purchase on loose timber of wood, but just as he was about to grab hold, a cask of ale rolled its way into the sea, striking a glancing blow at his head, knocking him senseless. The shrieks of the men and the roar of the sea gave way to nothing but silence as the sea swallowed him up in into darkness.
The chaos above the surface seemed to drift out of all sense and feeling. As men and cargo sank beneath the tumultuous waves, all sound and feeling seemed to ebb away from them. Daylight only reached far enough to illuminate their descent through the beautiful blue of the ocean. Only some few ever saw what else moved through that water. Figures darted from the deeper blue beneath, indistinct to the eyes of the men already drowning. Tails swept by, arms reached out, and each man taken was dragged down into the depths, denied any hope of breaking the surface once again. All but one, who drifted downward, dazed amid the sinking casks and cargoes, hidden from the most casual glance of those determined killers, darting back and forth between the sinking ships.
Hands reached for Cian, tucking beneath his arms, a lithe body pressed to his back as he was pulled along ....not downward as so many of his comrades and enemies were, but toward the land, into a thicker nest of sinking cargo. The motion stopped, and that body flitted about, struggling to keep him level with the crates and casks that concealed him from view. A cloud of golden hair swept in front of his face, green eyes peering through the stormy water to study him. Fingers pinched his nostrils shut, and suddenly a mouth sealed over his, sucking to draw the water from his lungs. A moment later, and clean air was breathed into him, the delicate mouth closing his lips before retreating. The arms wrapped about him once again, and that sense of motion returned, a rhythmic swish that propelled him through the water toward the looming darkness of land.
The darkness of the storm and the battle and the wrecked ship gave way to another kind of darkness, one that was as peaceful as it was terrifying. At first, Cian thought he was dead, but if he was dead, why was his head pounding like someone was hammering at his brain? Barely conscious, he was aware of movement, like he was being tugged along by a force he could not quite comprehend just yet. He thought he felt soft, cool lips against his and he struggled to open his eyes, but they only fluttered briefly allowing him a glimpse of gold hair like a halo, and eyes that were as green as emeralds.
As above them the storm began to subside, so too did the darkness of the water begin to lighten as he was pulled against the current, his silent rescuer stopping every now and then to take the air from his lungs with that soft mouth and replace it with fresh breath to keep him alive. The crowded sea faded into the deeps, men and ships and the creatures dragging them down disappearing from view. And suddenly, his head broke the surface, the gentle arms around him holding him up as the owner of those green eyes struggled through ever shallower water, finally forced to drag him by his collar as his body snagged on soft sand still swept by waves.
Perhaps he heard the sounds of effort that broke from the lips he'd tasted in his unconsciousness, feminine and rushed and straining as the arms that had been so strong below the water now found it hard to pull him to safety. When, finally, it seemed he was safe from the grasp of the waves, out of sight of whatever it was that would otherwise have wanted him dead, his rescuer released him, and collapsed, breathless, to the sand at his side.