Prologue : Crossing the Sea

C

The sun was rising swiftly in the east, spreading its burnt rose welcome across the sky and racing to clash with the banks of rolling gray fog that chased us into the bay. Our ship was slipping softly between the Capes, towering above on either side like great, stony sentinels of the mythical land beyond their gate. The brash and blue Bairdwyn Sea, crossed these last many weeks, receded gradually into the morning mist behind us, and the far shore beckoned, crowned by the sprawling harbor town of Berea, all limned in gold-washed light.

I clutched my small sack of belongings close with one hand, gripped the freshly-sanded railing with the other. The bleached sails above were full and snapping, tattered about the edges, but sound and tight against the tangy wind. I gazed up into the rigging, aware of the crew-members who scrambled gleefully about their duties, eager to reach Berea Town harbor and shore-leave beyond. I was not envious of their approaching holiday, though I myself would not be granted that same freedom, but their graceful, effortless movements in defiance of gravity stirred the stubborn part of me that had always longed to fly.

Except for bustling crew, I stood alone on deck, having escaped the crowded bunk I shared with my pap, Attican Revus, still snoring blissfully below. I'd come up for fresh air, hungry for a moment of respite before Pap's daily demands restricted my liberty once more. I knew my troubles would multiply the moment we berthed in Berea and stepped foot on land. My pap's grandiose plans seemed futile and foolhardy, impossible and terrifying. Even as I considered them, I looked down and studied my freckled hands warily, in fearful awe of all that he was asking me to accomplish with them.

Attican Revus was a dreamer, and since the death of my mother and young brother, these alarming dreams had been all that kept him from wallowing in dark sorrow. I preferred mad, driven schemes to the wrathful ravings of a man embittered by the injustice of life. Having become too accustomed to the latter in the past months, I was game to risk much in order to see them cease. If what Pap required of me brought him some measure of contentment, I would participate willingly, if not exactly joyfully.

Restless waves churned below and raucous gray gulls circled high above. I savored the sea-washed, salt air. Before embarking on a mission almost certain to end in failed dungeon darkness, I was determined to bask in warm sunlight and dwell fondly on pleasant memories for whatever scant time was left to me.