37th of Winter, 498
The Southern Suvan Sea
Nightfall
Freezing waves crashed against Tarlen's body as he clung to the side of the Redkelp's carved hull with its faded paint. His father shouted something from the deck and the telltale clanking of a ballista's crank made itself audible over the waves. Another surge of briny water crashed over Tarlen and he pulled himself a little big higher on the ship's hull, peeking over the edge of the ship so that he could see the deck. It was too dark and foggy to see more than two figures - his mom and dad - cranking their ship's heavy ballista to full tension and aiming it up towards shadowy figures atop the much bigger ship's looming profile, lit from behind by glowing torches.
"Now?" Tarlen's father asked in his booming voice, loud even over the crash of waves.
"Not yet, Orlen," His mother shouted in reply, "Hold her steady... Steady... Just a little bit to the left..."
Crack! The harpoon launched its missile and a shadow disappeared from the looming hull - now close enough that Tarlen could see the rough black and red paint all over the vessel. It was a massive ship - bigger than any that Tarlen had ever seen, reminding him of the few times the Whitecrest pod had passed by the rocky cliffs near the port of Zeltiva. His mother would point out the different sea birds and sometimes they would even go ashore later, on quieter shores - where his dad taught him how to dig up and clean clams.
And now his parents were cranking the harpoon up for another shot when the ships collided together with a mighty crash. Tarlen grasped at the seal carving he had been hanging onto, rewarded only with burning pain as his fingernail and the tip of his index finger were ripped off, caught by the splintering wood. He crashed into the inky blackness of the nighttime Suvan and opened his mouth to scream as the salty water washed over the torn flesh on his finger. Saltwater rushed into his mouth as he was tossed by the waves.
Down, up, left - where was up? Tarlen couldn't tell. Everything was darkness, salt and pain. He spat out and paddled blindly forward, hard. His lungs burned from withheld breath. Tarlen kicked forward, fighting the ocean's waves the whole way.
Cold ocean air hit his face with a welcome spray of sea froth. Gasping for air, Tarlen wiped the water from his eyes with some difficulty, managing to stay just above the waves as he looked around. He'd been pushed from the ships, and could just make out the outline of one of his parents being dragged up to the glowing deck of the bigger ship. An icy fear grew inside of him, fueled by his realization that a shark was approaching him. Hunting his blood. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it - Laviku's mark let him know.
He had to get to the Redkelp and sneak onto the big black ship. Somehow he could help his family. Tarlen swam for the Redkelp madly, pulling himself closer and closer through the waves despite his mutilated finger.
There were still four figures standing on the ship - two of them holding one between them, with a fourth shouting something at the captive one - a man. He could see them more clearly as he drew closer, but it only confirmed what he had been dreading. Tarlen's father was being held by two of the other men. He noticed a glint from the torchlight in the fourth man's hand. Tarlen was close enough to see them, now. His father's captors were facing away from him, towards the fourth man, who was wearing a thick naval coat and a big feathered three-corner hat with a huge bushy brown beard that didn't quite cover the man's devilish grin. Nothing had scared him half as much in his life as the bearded man's smile.
"Lookit you, li'l Svefra," The bearded man jeered at Tarlen's father the common tongue, "Hell o' a fighter, you are, too, if these two're worth believin'. You took the other three I sent here?"
Tarlen's father spat.
"Hehehe," The bearded man's laugh was halfway to a wheeze as he lifted his cutlass and toyed with it, the mad twinkle in his eyes matching the glint of his blade in the torchlight, "Ye could'a been a fine slave, lad. Pity we'll hafta settle for yer woman. She's fierce enough. Heh. I like it rough-like."
Tarlen's father strained free from one of the men, elbowing him in the face as the bearded man raised his blade. He began to swing down at Tarlen's father, who caught the bearded man's wrist and began to wrestle the blade away.
As one man stepped back and drew his cutlass and the other clutched his broken nose, Tarlen screamed, "Father!"
Tarlen's father whipped around in shock, "Tarlen?! You're - Go! Swim, lad! I'll -"
The bearded man broke free and plunged his sword into Tarlen's distracted Father's chest, looking Tarlen straight in the eyes as he did, "Well lookit ye. My, my, what a sweet thing you are, lad. Come o'er here and let me take a closer lookit ye, and I swear I won't hurt ye."
Tarlen reeled backwards in horror, opening and closing his mouth - "You're a monster," he wanted to say, "Laviku won't let a creature like you live on his oceans," "I'll kill you." All he could think was fear, all that left his mouth were choked sobs.
"Ooh, he's tryin' to run, cap'n," one of the men cheerfully shouted, "Should I fetch 'im?"
"Aye," The bearded man started laughing but it lapsed into a coughing fit, leaning on his cutlass. "Aye," he repeated when he regained his composure, "And bring him to my quarters with the wench - She's prob'ly his mum. It'll be a fun night."
The bearded man turned and returned to the ladder linking the two ships together with the broken-nosed man while the other man dropped his cutlass onto the deck and dove into the briny depths. Tarlen turned and swam for his life, back the way he'd come. His father's last words rang in his ears - he couldn't die now. He had to live. If not for himself then for his father's last wish - though it occurred to Tarlen that not dying was certainly enough of a motivation to live.
Waves crashed around him as he swam desperately through the waves and he spotted the log he had spent the day riding off to his left - and, to his right, the fin of some enormous shark. While Tarlen was certainly terrified enough for motivation, the arrival of the shark terrified him beyond his wildest nightmares.
Tarlen gasped from exhaustion and found his mouth full of salt water. He spat it out and pulled himself through the ocean. His limbs felt leaden from the horrifying swim and he could hear the slaver splashing noisily behind him. After what felt like an eternity of burning muscles and buffeting waves, Tarlen's head smacked into the log. He hadn't even seen it in his blind panic. With a throbbing head and stars dancing before his eyes, Tarlen somehow managed to hoist himself onto the log and turn to see the slaver.
The slaver was a swimmer, but no Svefra. The man had fallen behind Tarlen, but seemed less tired - a full grown man, as he was. Terrified though Tarlen was of the shark, the slaver was more terrified, and it hurt his swimming. Splashing fervently in the waters, the slaver failed to make headway... but succeeded in attracting the shark's attention. The shark turned to the slaver and Tarlen watched as it rocketed forwards and gripped the man. The shark, tore the slaver's stomach open with a vicious shake of its head and the screaming man's entrails floated out over the water with ribbons of blood.
Tarlen didn't even wince as he watched the slaver die. If he could have his way, he realized, he would kill them all. |
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by Tarlen Lastcrest on July 29th, 2015, 10:12 am 