As he walked, his smile never faded but only grew wider as the smell of the sea became stronger. He knew he was close to the docks and soon, his beloved Sea Voyager came into view. Her masts rose proudly into the sky as she rocked gently back and forth with the incoming waves. The sound of them breaking upon her breast hit his ears and he had never heard such sweet music before. The wooden hull of her vast breast jutted out before her in eagerness to set sail, as though she was more desperate than Tybalt for the open sea air. Her white sails were flapping in the breeze like the arms of a ghost, alerting Tybalt to the fact that conditions were perfect for sailing.
All his childhood, he had dreamed of sailing on the open sea and all his adult life had been spent doing just that. Though he loved his wife very much, his heart truly belonged to the ocean. The sounds of it rang in his ears constantly and his dreams were consumed with his Sea Voyager and the feeling of the wind in his face as she pressed on faster and faster.
Tybalt desired nothing more than the freedom of the sea. He longed for the days when he could sail away from his tiny home and bask in the vastness of the open blue before him. He spent most of his land-locked days curled up in his favorite reading chair next to the hearth, staring out the window with dreamy eyes at the ocean beyond. The sight of the sparkling water on a bright, summer day never ceased to inspire him.
At long last, after what seemed like hours of walking, Tybalt reached the docks. His ship loomed over him at the last dock and his crewmen were already loading provisions onto her. The morning sun had just begun to make its daily appearance, rising over the horizon looming behind his vessel. The orange glow burned through her sails and tinted her wooden frames, making it look as though she were made from pure gold. He smiled at the glorious sight of her but turned his head away quickly when he noticed the men standing before his ship.
Next to his Sea Voyager, he spotted Merek Vandram, the Protector of Tyos. He was a tall, muscular man, with dark hair and dark eyes that always seemed to glow with warmth. He was wearing his usual brown leather jerkin and thick, wool pants. On his belt strap hung the sword that he was never parted with.
Next to Protector Merek, stood a tall, spindly man that seemed to struggle to stand upright in the morning breeze. His name was Thurdan Malum, Sorcerer of Tyos, and he rarely made an appearance into the outside world. His haggard visage and pale skin made him look as though he spent his days lurking deep within some forsaken cave, with no light or warmth to keep him company. The man looks as though he has never spent a day of his life out in the sun. He wore a long dark robe and kept his hands stiffly at his sides. His balding head glistened in the sunlight and his bright green eyes darted about as though he were constantly looking for danger.
Merek, upon seeing Tybalt approaching, smiled warmly and waved in greeting.
“Hello there, Merek!” Tybalt shouted with gaiety. “Going to be a wonderful day, do you not think?”
Merek chuckled and patted Tybalt welcomingly on the shoulder. “Yes, yes. I believe you are right.” He responded, looking up to the sky that was now turning a soft hue of pink as the sun was making its morning appearance over the horizon.
“It will be a glorious day.” Thurdan piped in his strangely high-pitched and nervous voice. He reached a wiry hand up and grasped Tybalt’s free hand and smiled at the captain reassuringly.
“I have had no premonitions of a storm passing over the Blood Sea. Your voyage should be both prosperous and uneventful.” Thurdan stopped shaking Tybalt’s hand and, without realizing that he was doing it, wiped his own hand vigorously on the cloth of his robes, as though Tybalt had soiled him with his touch.
Tybalt, whose gaze had followed the Sorcerer’s motions, quickly averted his eyes away as to avoid making the Sorcerer uncomfortable. Everyone knew Thurdan was quirky in his own way and no one questioned him.
“That is good news indeed!” Tybalt said with enthusiasm. “Since this is the last voyage of the season before the storms begin raging; we will need it to be very prosperous.”
Merek nodded his head in agreement. “Good luck fishing, Tybalt. We shall see you in a month’s time.” Merek smiled at the sea Captain one last time before leaving the docks with Thurdan following closely behind.
Tybalt watched the two men for a moment before turning his attention back to his Sea Voyager. With his pack over his shoulder and his head held high, he began the enthralling hike up the plank to the deck of the ship. His crewmen- who all recognized him- nodded their heads in greeting as they passed him by. He said a small “hello” to them under his breath and kept walking.
When he reached the deck, his breath bated. He always found the pristine look of the clean, unused deck of his ship beautiful. She had not been walked upon since their last voyage three months ago and had since been scrubbed and shined to perfection. Only a few scuff marks and muddy footprints decimated the wood planking.
Tybalt sighed with satisfaction as he watched his crewmen shuffle about, priming the sails, rolling barrels of food and wine to the stocks below and shouting orders to one another, trying to get the ship ready to set sail as soon as possible.
“Hello Captain!” Tybalt turned his head to find Felix descending the stairs of the top deck. He waved at his first mate, a young but bright man, with golden hair and a permanent smile painted on his face.
“Everything in shape then?” He asked, wondering if they would be able to set sail soon.
“Everything is ready captain and waiting your command.” Tybalt removed the heavy satchel, which had been digging painfully into his shoulder, and handed it over to Felix.
“Put that in my cabin and help yourself to one of the sweets.” He looked Felix in the eye stubbornly. “But don’t tell the other crewmen about the sweets or my cabin will be full up with the thieves.” Felix smiled humorously before turning and heading for his cabin.
Tybalt made the ascent to the upper deck and took in a big breath of fresh air. He stood at the helm; one hand placed upon the large wooden wheel, and looked around.
Below him, his crewmen scurried about like ants fighting over a crumb, before him lay the open sea that awaited his launch, with rolling waves beckoning him on. And towards the city, he spotted his wife, Elza. Her green eyes sparkled in the morning light; her yellow hair spiraling outward in the soft breeze. She had come to see him off. He smiled appreciatively at her and waved. She waved back at him and placed the palm of her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. He reached a hand in the air and pretended to catch it, placing it to his own lips. He could see her laughing in the distance.
Moments later, the sails were set, the wind was blowing generously at their back, and the Sea Voyager was leaving port. Tybalt looked behind him one last time to say farewell to the only city he had ever loved. He smiled at its glorious silhouette on the horizon. It stood above the hill and the rising sun bathed it in a brilliant, golden light, making it look as though the Gods themselves were touching it with their radiant hands. He smiled and bid the city farewell silently in his thoughts then looked out towards the sea, his only destination.
***
The three men sat in Tybalt’s cabin which was small and dark, save for the tiny windows lining the walls, and rank with the smell of salt and moist wood. They held their glasses in the air and smiled widely at their captain. He held his glass up as well and beamed down at his fellow crewmen. All were waiting for him to give the toast.
The special occasion as to which they were delving into their libations was a massive shark they had caught while fishing for tuna and hagfish. The shark measured at fifteen feet in length and had been too heavy for even the three of his crewmen who accompanied him at that moment to lift.
Tybalt had ordered the shark to be promptly placed in icy water to preserve its freshness and invited his fishermen inside his cabin for a celebratory drink.
Felix was there, along with Tem and Hardy. They were responsible for capturing the beast. Seeing its massive fin sticking out of the water, Hardy
promptly motioned for Tem to grab the harpoon. It took all three of them to pull the shark in and even more of his men to lift it onto deck.
“To a job well done!” Tybalt shouted and the men cheered, tipped their glasses to each other and drank in celebration. Tybalt drank his wine in one large gulp, not caring for the taste of it then smiled back down at his men who were beaming up at him proudly.
“That fish will be sold for a pretty penny!” His men cheered once more. “You can each expect a handful of gold when we return.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Hardy said, delighted.
“No, thank you. This ship would be nothing without you fine men. And the city of Tyos would starve without your courage to voyage the open sea and wrestle its beasts to death!”
The men drank the rest of their wine with a gleeful shout and Tybalt promptly excused them. His aching feet were screaming at him, begging him to take the weight off.
When his crewmen were gone, he poured himself a proper drink; a dark, tangy spirit that burned the tongue and throat on its journey downward. With glass in hand, he stepped over to his desk and let himself fall into the chair heavily. He propped his feet upon the desk, not bothering to remove his boots. The day had been long and his old bones had begun to ache with each movement he made. Even bringing the glass to his lips to take a sip caused pains to crawl up the length of his arm. He grunted in anger at his aging self and tried to ignore the discomfort as he took a sip. Just as always, the liquid was warm on his tongue and burned as it trickled down his throat, leaving a small trail of fire. He pulled the glass away and sighed with satisfaction.
Tybalt suddenly felt a strong desire to close his eyes and rest. He placed the glass upon the desk and reached both arms behind his head for support before closing his eyes. The weariness of the day had finally caught up with him and he was about to fall into a blissful afternoon slumber when his cabin door was thrown open, slamming against the wall, making him jump straight up with a start.
“You had better come see this Captain.” Felix said with panic in his voice. He turned and ran back in the other direction.
Tybalt, slightly annoyed at the disruption, sighed and forced himself to his feet, listening to the bones in his legs and hips crack in objection. Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it quickly so that I can rest. He stalked, with shoulders slumped, out of his cabin and headed towards the stairs when he stopped promptly and looked at his crewmen in confusion.
All were huddled around the edges of the ship, peering over into the water below. No one spoke and no one looked up to him in acknowledgement. He looked up at the sky and realized that the breeze, which always blew, had ceased and their sails sat stagnant without a single ripple flowing through them.
Tybalt hastily made his way up the stairs and to the helm where he found Felix standing in awe, staring over the side of the ship.
“What is it man?” He asked, bewildered at his crewmen’s odd behavior.
“Look!” Felix said, pointing over the edge to the water below.
Tybalt moved closer and peered over. His mouth gaped open at the sight that unfolded before him. He blinked, hoping it was merely a dream he was having and he was still sitting in his cabin, huddled in his chair, but when he opened his eyes, the sight was still before him.
Though there was not a cloud in the sky or a breeze of wind in the air, the waters below raged and howled against the side of the ship. The water, which had been so calm and serene before was now choppy and broke against the ship violently. The surface bubbled and spat as though it were a pot of boiling water.
Beneath the waves, a brilliant red light could be seen glowing as though the sun had submerged itself and they were sailing over it.
Then suddenly, the ship lurched forward and all around him Tybalt heard the screams of his men. They shouted and called out to one another as they were thrown and tossed about the deck. Tybalt himself was thrown backwards and grabbed hold of the helm to help steady himself.
“What’s bloody happening?” He wondered aloud and Felix, who stood next to the Captain, merely stared at him with frightened eyes.
The ship shook again and this time, all of them were thrust forward. The waves below pushed and shifted the ship, making all the men cry out with fright as they were helplessly thrown about on the deck.
Suddenly, a roaring sound from beneath rumbled and grew louder every moment and could be felt by all who stood upon the deck, vibrating the ship beneath their feet. Tybalt, who was rarely afraid of anything, stumbled to the edge of the ship to peer over- his curiosity drove him on. He grasped the edge and held on tightly as he leaned over the side. He realized quickly that he had made a terrible mistake and tried to pull himself back but was too late. A wall of water shot upward like a geyser, knocking him off his feet and hurtling him over the edge.
He vaguely heard someone shouting behind him; “Captain!” but the sound was drowned out by the water that rushed up to meet him.
Instead of the usual icy chill that was expected of the ocean waters, he was met with a radiant heat that made him feel as though his skin was boiling.
Tybalt tried to scream but when he opened his mouth, it filled with water and all sound was washed away in that desperate moment.
If he was not looking at it with his own eyes, he would not believe what he saw below the surface- flames, burning hot like a cauldron beneath him. He could see them spit and burst forward with an angry roar. He struggled and tried to swim to the surface but could not escape his fate. The image of his wife, smiling and blowing him a playful kiss, passed over his vision as the flames engulfed him. They shot up and rose over the edges of the ship- fiery tendrils that clutched the Sea Voyager with its scalding grip.
The remaining crew screamed and shouted in their panic but had no way of escaping. Soon, all of them were burning with their ship, which had become a massive ball of flame and ash and smoke.
A great wall of water and fire rose up into the air and hurtled forward at an incredible speed, traveling the distance of hundreds of miles in mere minutes. No one in the city of Tyos could have known. They turned their heads when they heard the roaring of the massive wall of ocean and flame approaching.
Some of them shrieked, some of them ran for cover but no one could escape what was about to consume their beloved city.
Halfway across the land of Kaena, in the grand city of Axendra, Myranda Starweaver sat bolt upright in her bed- woken from her slumber with a start, sweat beading on her forehead and her heart pounding in her chest. She threw the blankets off and jumped to her feet. Her arms found her robe hanging from the bedpost and she hastily wrapped it around her shoulders as she ran from her room and down the corridor to where the King and Queen were resting peacefully.
They must know at once! She thought panicked as she ran as quickly as her feet would carry her. They must send aid!
Chapter 4
“Majesties?” Terryn Lysander’s soft and timid voice sounded throughout the dark room as he stood idly in the doorway. Darkness stretched out before him but he knew they were there, sleeping peacefully in their bed. The curtains had been drawn over the windows and balcony, blocking any glimmer of morning sunlight that tried to break through. But at this hour, he knew there was no light to shine upon the dimness of the room.
“Majesties?” Terryn tried again. This time his voice was louder and he spoke with more confidence. He took one brave step into the darkness and heard the King snoring on the other side of the room, completely unaware of anyone’s presence.
Taking a deep breath, Terryn fully moved into the room and shuffled his way through the darkness. He had been in this room many times before and even though the darkness blinded him, he could find the bed easily enough. He knew it was positioned on the center of the back wall, underneath a large portrait of the King’s father, Darrion Elyas. He could almost feel the painted eyes of the deceased King staring down at him as he shuffled his way uneasily through the royal bedchamber, giving him the sense tha
t he was not where he belonged. He knew sneaking up on the King and Queen while they slept would be grounds for punishment. But the Sorceress had insisted it was an emergency. He tried to command the guards stationed outside their chamber to wake them, but they shook their heads and repeatedly refused, even after being bribed with what little gold Terryn had. And so, here he was, stepping lightly through the darkness, about to wake a man who could have Terryn’s head removed with one, angry command.
Once his eyes adjusted, he realized he was already standing at the edge of the bed, King Firion Elyas beneath him. One more step forward would have sent Terryn crashing into the unsuspecting sleeping beast. The ghostly silhouette of his pale face could be seen in the dim light that now reached Terryn’s eyes. He might kill me if I wake him! Terryn could feel his hands shaking as he reached up to grasp the King by the shoulder. He hesitated and closed his eyes, focusing on building his strength. Tis your duty. He silently scolded himself. Just do it, you coward!
“Your Grace.” Terryn said in his regular tone of voice. He grabbed Firion by the shoulder and gently shook him.
The King snorted and sat upright with a start. He looked around confused for a moment and when his eyes fell upon Terryn, he glowered.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” The King shouted at him as he gestured to the still dark room. Next to him, the Queen stirred and sat upright as well, forgetting she had no clothing to cover her bare chest.
Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) Page 4
