496 AV, Summer Day 14
The day began warm and moist when Ricky left the shack, the busy docks of Zeltivan sailors lifting their stock and loading them with grunts and sweat. The sweet air of the sea smelled warm and muggy, no doubt about it: summer had hit hard this year.
When Ricky made his way to the end of the dock he slipped off his shoes, taking a seat at the wooden edge of the creaky planks. His feet weren't able to touch the water, but as the soft roll of the waves swayed in; his toes would dip in every time. The water felt cool compared to the air, a much desirable tempature that would tempt any hot civilian.
Alas he had but a major problem, one that went against his inner wishes: he could not swim. More or so didn't know how really, if only his father had not been so busy, but then Ricky couldn't really tell his dad about it. Such pride his pa had as a sailor, what worse way for his son to let him down then not knowing how to swim?