Post by Katriel on Jul 26, 2023 18:15:05 GMT -5
The red glow of the sun beat against my closed eyelids and my head throbbed painfully. A dog was softly whining, and I could feel wet tongue vigorously licking my hand. Rather than recoiling, I was grateful for the small amount of warmth it brought to my numb fingers. My clothes were wet, and I was cold. So cold. Yet I couldn’t seem to move. My mind and body were arguing violently with each other. My body demanded sleep, but my mind warned that if I slept now, I might never wake again. Though my eyes failed to open, my ears worked perfectly well. Waves pounded against wood that creaked and groaned alarmingly in protest.
Yes…I’m on a ship…my ship.
The thought provoked such an unexpected sense of urgency that my eyes finally flew open in response. I was staring up at a cracked mast and sails that had been torn nearly to shreds. The ship listed heavily to one side but was not moving freely as it should have been. Slowly I sat up. My head spun and a wave of nausea washed over me. I took a few slow, deep breaths and fumbled for the water pouch at my side. Despite being wet all over, I was incredibly parched.
I recognized my dog’s soft brown eyes as they stared back at me with deep concern. Her whining changed to a happier pitch once I began to move, and she drew closer to lick my face. After a few minutes of indulging her need for reassurance, I pushed her back, away from the source of the pain in my head. Feeling around with my fingers, I found a good-sized knot on the left side of my forehead.
“You’re a good girl, Lyra,” I croaked, my voice sounding dry and strained. “What happened, anyway? I wish you could tell me…”
I managed to stand so that I could see over the ship’s sides. Somehow we had run aground. By the ship’s battered condition, I could tell it had endured a heavy storm. But I couldn’t remember sailing through one. With sudden shock, I realized that I couldn’t remember much else, either.
“My name…” I whispered to myself in a momentary panic. “My name Katriel.” My dog’s tail wagged hard as I spoke it, confirming I was right.
At least SHE knows who I am.
“And we set sail from…” My mind raced, trying to think back to the beginning of my doomed voyage, but I might as well have been trying to capture smoke in my fist. Any faint wisps of memory that began to emerge only dissipated before I could capture them. I had no idea where I’d been, or where I’d been trying to get to.
Though my memory was lost in a fog, the rest of my mind began to sharpen. It was not safe to stay on the ship. We had to get to shore before nightfall, which would not be far off judging by the position of the sun, which was red and low on the western horizon. The eastern sky was still dark with retreating storm clouds. Whatever we had sailed through was now rapidly moving away.
Though I had somehow survived the shipwreck, I realized that wouldn’t mean much if I could not get warm and dry very soon. My limbs were beginning to tremble and my teeth were chattering.
I quickly surveyed what was in my hold. Whatever my original destination had been, I’d packed enough for either a long voyage, or a long stay once I’d gotten there. Some of my cargo was wet and ruined, but the rest I grabbed and loaded into the small landing boat. Thankfully it had not broken free during the storm. Once every belonging I had left was nestled safely inside, I called for Lyra to follow, then lowered us down into the still-choppy water and rowed toward the shore.
It wasn’t long before we landed on a lush and green, but completely unfamiliar coastline. There was nothing in sight but a weather-worn house that must have been impressive in its day. My hopes fell as I surveyed the dark, vacant windows and deteriorating outer walls, wrapped in thick, tree-like vines that had been pulling at them year by year. The roof over the building’s single turret had long collapsed and fallen away. There would be no friendly faces inside to help me, but at least the place seemed sturdy enough that Lyra and I could camp there for the night.
The wooden door swung open onto a large room filled with furniture and belongings; the side of the hearth was still stacked with firewood, and a cauldron sat in front of it, just waiting to be filled with nourishing pottage. Yet the thick blanket of dust covering everything betrayed just how long it had been since anyone had used it. The hearth was cold, the pot empty. This place had indeed been abandoned for a very long time.
I absently reached for the wound on my head and immediately regretted it. Sharp, throbbing pain radiated outward from my touch. Nothing felt real, and the trembling in my body had turned to shivers. There was no time to dwell on my lost memory, what had happened, or what I might do tomorrow. There was only here and now, and if I wanted to survive the night, I would need to get a fire started. I could only hope that tomorrow I would begin to remember.
And what if I don’t… The thought stirred up a fresh wave of panic.
“Then you will deal with that tomorrow,” I said sternly to myself.
Lyra cocked her head in bewilderment at my tone as she watched me throw kindling and cut wood onto the hearth. I flashed her a warm smile and lovingly scritched behind her ears. I was trying to assume a bold and confident air, perhaps for myself as much as for Lyra. But the truth was, I felt lost and anxious. Deep down, I sensed something wasn’t right. About the storm, the wreck, my memory… I couldn’t dismiss the feeling that something sinister lurked behind all of it.
“In Por Ylem,” I said weakly, using the last of my energy reserves to send an arrow of flame from my shaky fingertips to the kindling in the hearth. It was so dry that it immediately caught fire, setting the wood above it ablaze without a second attempt needed. I pulled up a chair and let the growing heat begin to dry out my wet clothes. Lyra stretched out across my feet, letting loose a soft sigh as she finally began to relax. She was also wet, and tired, but loyal to the end, her fate forever bound to mine. I closed my eyes and lifted a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens.
Whatever happened to me out there, at least I’m alive. And I’m not alone.
Reaching down, I affectionately patted Lyra’s head. Whatever future loomed before us—whatever new trials we were yet to endure—we would surely face them together.
Yes…I’m on a ship…my ship.
The thought provoked such an unexpected sense of urgency that my eyes finally flew open in response. I was staring up at a cracked mast and sails that had been torn nearly to shreds. The ship listed heavily to one side but was not moving freely as it should have been. Slowly I sat up. My head spun and a wave of nausea washed over me. I took a few slow, deep breaths and fumbled for the water pouch at my side. Despite being wet all over, I was incredibly parched.
I recognized my dog’s soft brown eyes as they stared back at me with deep concern. Her whining changed to a happier pitch once I began to move, and she drew closer to lick my face. After a few minutes of indulging her need for reassurance, I pushed her back, away from the source of the pain in my head. Feeling around with my fingers, I found a good-sized knot on the left side of my forehead.
“You’re a good girl, Lyra,” I croaked, my voice sounding dry and strained. “What happened, anyway? I wish you could tell me…”
I managed to stand so that I could see over the ship’s sides. Somehow we had run aground. By the ship’s battered condition, I could tell it had endured a heavy storm. But I couldn’t remember sailing through one. With sudden shock, I realized that I couldn’t remember much else, either.
“My name…” I whispered to myself in a momentary panic. “My name Katriel.” My dog’s tail wagged hard as I spoke it, confirming I was right.
At least SHE knows who I am.
“And we set sail from…” My mind raced, trying to think back to the beginning of my doomed voyage, but I might as well have been trying to capture smoke in my fist. Any faint wisps of memory that began to emerge only dissipated before I could capture them. I had no idea where I’d been, or where I’d been trying to get to.
Though my memory was lost in a fog, the rest of my mind began to sharpen. It was not safe to stay on the ship. We had to get to shore before nightfall, which would not be far off judging by the position of the sun, which was red and low on the western horizon. The eastern sky was still dark with retreating storm clouds. Whatever we had sailed through was now rapidly moving away.
Though I had somehow survived the shipwreck, I realized that wouldn’t mean much if I could not get warm and dry very soon. My limbs were beginning to tremble and my teeth were chattering.
I quickly surveyed what was in my hold. Whatever my original destination had been, I’d packed enough for either a long voyage, or a long stay once I’d gotten there. Some of my cargo was wet and ruined, but the rest I grabbed and loaded into the small landing boat. Thankfully it had not broken free during the storm. Once every belonging I had left was nestled safely inside, I called for Lyra to follow, then lowered us down into the still-choppy water and rowed toward the shore.
It wasn’t long before we landed on a lush and green, but completely unfamiliar coastline. There was nothing in sight but a weather-worn house that must have been impressive in its day. My hopes fell as I surveyed the dark, vacant windows and deteriorating outer walls, wrapped in thick, tree-like vines that had been pulling at them year by year. The roof over the building’s single turret had long collapsed and fallen away. There would be no friendly faces inside to help me, but at least the place seemed sturdy enough that Lyra and I could camp there for the night.
The wooden door swung open onto a large room filled with furniture and belongings; the side of the hearth was still stacked with firewood, and a cauldron sat in front of it, just waiting to be filled with nourishing pottage. Yet the thick blanket of dust covering everything betrayed just how long it had been since anyone had used it. The hearth was cold, the pot empty. This place had indeed been abandoned for a very long time.
I absently reached for the wound on my head and immediately regretted it. Sharp, throbbing pain radiated outward from my touch. Nothing felt real, and the trembling in my body had turned to shivers. There was no time to dwell on my lost memory, what had happened, or what I might do tomorrow. There was only here and now, and if I wanted to survive the night, I would need to get a fire started. I could only hope that tomorrow I would begin to remember.
And what if I don’t… The thought stirred up a fresh wave of panic.
“Then you will deal with that tomorrow,” I said sternly to myself.
Lyra cocked her head in bewilderment at my tone as she watched me throw kindling and cut wood onto the hearth. I flashed her a warm smile and lovingly scritched behind her ears. I was trying to assume a bold and confident air, perhaps for myself as much as for Lyra. But the truth was, I felt lost and anxious. Deep down, I sensed something wasn’t right. About the storm, the wreck, my memory… I couldn’t dismiss the feeling that something sinister lurked behind all of it.
“In Por Ylem,” I said weakly, using the last of my energy reserves to send an arrow of flame from my shaky fingertips to the kindling in the hearth. It was so dry that it immediately caught fire, setting the wood above it ablaze without a second attempt needed. I pulled up a chair and let the growing heat begin to dry out my wet clothes. Lyra stretched out across my feet, letting loose a soft sigh as she finally began to relax. She was also wet, and tired, but loyal to the end, her fate forever bound to mine. I closed my eyes and lifted a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens.
Whatever happened to me out there, at least I’m alive. And I’m not alone.
Reaching down, I affectionately patted Lyra’s head. Whatever future loomed before us—whatever new trials we were yet to endure—we would surely face them together.