Fates.Gamble
Care to take a gamble?
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2012
- Location
- Somewhere out there...
Avery huffed with an exhausted sigh, frustrated by what he found; or rather, didn’t find. Once again he set himself to task, leaning over the large chart that took up most of the desk. He looked like a man ravenous for answers as he made the calculations silently in his head. The Captain had more than his fair share of experience at sea, and though it had its flaws, dead reckoning had led him to success on each of his ventures so far. If the math was accurate, then by all accounts they should have reached their heading by now. Yet, it had been well over a month now since they’d last seen a spit of land. Their world was an endless expanse of blue water, desolation in every direction. The crew was beginning to lose heart, as was their captain at this point. The longer this went on the more accepted that the whispers of this untapped paradise rich in wealth and danger alike, was nothing short of rumors. Unlike most rumors, all talk of this mysterious land pointed to the same general location, granting them a level of credibility, but Avery had scoured every square mile of these waters and still there was no sign.
And once again, the math added up, reassuring him that the problem lied not with his navigation. The wooden chair groaned as he leaned back, considering the implications of this. Had he truly just wasted over a year of his life chasing some fantasy? That’s what I get for trusting word of mouth, he scolded himself, soft blue eyes roaming over the cluttered mess of his desk. Navigator’s tools were strewn about, from his compass and quadrant, to the astrolabe and large celestial globe that helped him keep track of the heavens. But it was the hourglass his gaze lingered on. The sand had nearly emptied into the bottom half, making him bitterly aware of yet another hour spent trying to find a myth he was foolish enough to believe in. For a moment he wallowed in the fact, long fingers drumming against the arm of his chair while he watched the time literally drain away. Once the last grain had fallen, he rose from his seat, retrieved the time measure, and flipped it to start the process over again.
Not for the first time, he wondered if he should call off this search. It was a decision that weighed heavily on him over the last few days, and it did so especially now, as he meandered over to the elegant windows that adorned the captain’s quarters. He peered out into that great, sapphire expanse, looking back the way they’d come and pondering if they should turn about. The hard decision left him feeling much like the frothing waters left in the wake of their hull; churned up and conflicted, instead of calm and serene like the open waters abaft. No doubt the men longed to return to shore, to see and hold their families again. But Avery had none of that waiting for him back in the civilized world. He lived for the adventure of his journeys; for the thrill of setting out into the unknown and making new discoveries. Nothing got his heart pumping more than setting foot on unexploited soil; of exploring a world unknown and untouched by man. To turn back now would be to give up any chance of that rush for a long time to come.
What am I to do next? He ruminated, eyes latched to the sea, sparkling with a touch of gold in the afternoon sun. Before an solution could be deduced, there was a sudden knock at his door.
“Cap’n Brennan!” Boomed the voice of his quartermaster, who did not wait for a reply before throwing the cabin door wide open and showing himself inside. The quartermaster was a burly man, with sun-kissed skin that was blemished with numerous scars, fierce amber eyes, and a scraggly beard, once pitch black, but now bearing a touch of gray better suited to his years. He waited until he had the captain’s full attention before explaining why he had come. “Beggin’ your pardons Cap’n, but you’d best come ‘ave a look outside.”
Brennan gave him an odd look, stepping away from the window and back to his desk. “Why?” he asked, moving some of his instruments aside in order to roll up his sea chart and return it to the airtight bottle which kept it safe and dry. “What is it, Davy?”
“Something strange,” the seasoned crewman told him, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Might be something, or nothing at all.”
They’d been running on nothing for so long that any prospect sounded good at this point, so his interest piqued, Avery slipped the compass into the pocket of his coat, and followed the man out onto the main deck. The strong breeze tugged at his hair and clothes, and he breathed deep of the salty air as they walked. Everything seemed calm and peaceful for the moment, with the crew either attending to their duties or enjoying leisure time while they had the chance. A few acknowledged their captain as he passed, and Brennan nodded in kind while Davy led him to the starboard side of the ship. Once they had a clear view of the vast waters, the quartermaster fetched a spyglass from his belt and handed it over to the captain.
“Take a look,” he told him.
Avery accepted the scope and lifted it to his right eye, peering out in the distance. At first he didn’t realize what he was meant to see. It just looked like that same endless, blue world he’d spied every day before. The ocean stretched on and on, eventually melding into a mountain of clouds upon the horizon. Or at least, Avery thought they were clouds, but the longer he looked the less certain of that he became. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, like they were rising up out of the sea.
“What is that?” he asked, “Smoke?”
“Fog, I think,” answered Davy.
Avery frowned and lowered the spyglass. He gave the quartermaster a perplexed look. “Have you ever seen fog out in the middle of the sea like that before?”
“No,” he said, thumb and index finger coming to rub at his scratchy beard. “’least not in waters this warm. Could be a good indicator there’s land in that direction. Something’s got to be causing it anyway.”
“Mm,” Avery considered that, once more lifting the glass to investigate the mysterious haze. He couldn’t say for sure what the source was, but land would indeed make sense. It was possible mountains could push cooler air out over the sea and stir up a fog like that, but it would take a pretty large landmass; one they surely would have spotted long before now.
“What’s the order, Cap’n?” Davy asked, watching him intently.
Avery collapsed the spyglass and handed it back to the man. “Make for starboard,” he said, “Let’s have a closer look.”
“Aye Aye, Sir.” Davy relayed the orders, voice carrying across the deck, and an instant later the ship became a flurry of activity. The helmsman spun the steering wheel and diverted the course, while the rest of the men worked the sails to better catch the wind. As if the seas themselves willed it, those winds began to change. A squall rose up out of no where, filling their sails and speeding them onwards to their destination. “Maybe our luck’s changing for the better,” the quartermaster mused, amber eyes staring up at the rigging and sails as they reaped the unexpected bounty.
“Maybe so,” Brennan agreed, a spark of excitement coursing through his veins. A bank of fog wasn’t much to go on, but it was a little flame of hope and the captain was all too eager to latch on to it.
~
Despite having the wind at their backs, it took a considerable amount of time before they actually reached their destination. The sun had sank further towards the ocean, retreating beneath the great cloud of fog even as the stem of their ship reached for its misty embrace. The crew was silent as they penetrated the gloom, every man eyeing the fog with a look of apprehension as it swallowed their vessel whole. It was like entering a strange, ghostly world, mist settling all around them. Avery stood upon the prow, peering out with worry over the poor visibility. Scowling, he turned back, making for the helm and shouting orders along the way. “Take her down to half sail!” he barked, setting the men to the task. If there was actually land to be discover he didn’t want to do so by crashing into it.
As his orders were followed and the sails trimmed, the ship began to lose its speed. But it wasn’t enough to quell his fears of running aground. “Oi, Finn!” he shouted out, catching the attention of their fastest climber. “Get up into the nest and have a lookout!” The mist looked a little thinner up high, perhaps he would have a better view of any impending danger.
“Aye, Cap’n!” replied the sailor. Quick as could be, he made his way up the ropes, going hand over hand to scale the mast, and pulled himself into the bucket of the crow’s nest. While he took out a scope and kept watch ahead from on high, Avery joined his helmsman and kept a close view on the murky waters directly in front of them.
“Keep her steady lad,” the captain said to the helmsman, sharp eyes peering through the dense shroud that permeated the atmosphere. The further along they went the deeper the fog seemed to get. Worse yet, he moisture was thick enough that beads of dew clung to ship and their clothes, leaving them drenched before long. Avery brushed the back of his hand against his brow, clearing away the wetness before it irritated his eyes and made things even harder to see. If it got much denser than this they would be sailing blind, and only a fool would continue then. Yet Avery couldn’t find it in himself to turn around. Something deep down was calling to him, urging him on and daring him to take the risk. And then, there was a shout from high above.
“LAND HO!” Cried Finn from the crow’s nest, pointing into the distance. “Dead ahead!”
A rush of excitement broke out below, the men trying to see what he’d spotted. It came first as inky black shapes in the distance, imposing shadows deep within the mist that rose even higher than the masts of their ship. As they drew nearer, the fog began to dissipate, growing thin enough for them to realize the entities were towering citadels of stone. The bones of the Earth reached high above them, slabs of dark gray rock with crawling vines of green webbed around them. Some of the spires reached so high you had to crane your neck just to see the tops of them breaking through the mist. Others were far shorter, more jagged and reaching out like teeth keen to smash their hull to bits Avery knew there were likely to be far more they could not see, those short enough to be hidden within the fog and probably even beneath the surface.
“Best give her a wide berth,” he said to his helmsman, looking upon the sheer cliffs and spires with wary fervor. “Keep her to port.” As far as he could tell there was no where safe to dock. “Circle about and we’ll see if there’s any shore we can reach.”
But the helmsman didn’t seem to hear him. The crewman was looking straight ahead, his eyes wider than the captain had ever seen a man’s. He held an intense focus on his face, as though he could see right through the fog to behold some wonder beyond it that was invisible to the rest of them. The boat continued right along its course, drawing ever nearer to the perilous geological formation.
“Do you see it?” he asked, sounding almost breathless. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Avery might have assumed he was talking about the cliff face if not for that strange, bewildered expression he wore. “See what?” The captain demanded to know. He followed his regard out into the haze, but could see nothing worth any attention. “Sailor, I gave you an order.”
“Can’t you see it?” he shouted more eagerly, and suddenly, he spun the helm to starboard, the complete the opposite of the direction he’d been given, and putting them all the closer to those deadly rocks.
Avery stepped forward to reprimand the sailor but stopped. The fog grew ever thinner, and now he did see something. It was another inky, black, shape concealed by wisps of haze. But this one was contorted and strange, nothing like those imposing towers that reached for the sky. As they came closer other shapes popped up along in the distance, as twisted as the first. Avery stared out at the silhouettes, confused by the sight at first. What could they be? But now they were close enough to spy the figures in greater detail, and all at once the horrifying reality dawned on him. Those twisted shapes were in fact ships, enough for a small fleet of them, in fact, and all of them scattered and broken, their hulls torn to pieces across jutting rocks. But the helmsman didn’t seem to notice. He was sailing straight ahead to join the wreckage, as though this graveyard of vessels was in fact a paradise to his eyes.
Avery shouted at the man, trying to draw him back to his senses. But that was ignored , leaving him no choice but to act fast. He lunged for the helm, ramming the sailor aside with a shoulder and making a hard over to port in the same urgent motion. The crew had to fight for their footing over the sudden action, everyone stumbling about while the ship groaned and veered. Fast action saved them from the brunt of damage, but it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the prow of the nearest wreck. The starboard side of their hull scraped against it, blasting through and sending a weathered old figurehead sinking beneath thrashing waters. Avery set his jaw and continued to spin the helm about, trying to steer them clear of the next impending ship wreck. He began to shout orders to his men, only to find the helmsman popping back up and fighting him for control of the ship again.
“No! You’ll spoil everything!” the man was shouting, his voice raw and savage. He kicked and screamed, doing whatever he could to make the captain surrender the helm.
“Davy! Harper! Get up here!” Brennan roared, frantically trying to keep control of the ship while also fighting off the bewitched sailor. His quartermaster and boatswain hurried over and subdued the mad man, giving the captain the space he needed to safely maneuver them across the dangerous waters. Brennan’s heart felt like it was going to thump right out of his chest as he focused on the task at hand, continuing to bellow out his commands. “Hop to! Shorten the sails! And Davy, tie that fool to the mast!” Even now the helmsman fought against his captors, absolutely raving in his attempt to take over Avery’s position.
The men did as they were asked, the quartermaster dragging the madman over to the nearest mast and tying him in place with a bundle of rope. His captive screamed all the while, an eerie droning across the foggy mist. It made things all the more stressful while the crew worked tirelessly to navigate safe and true through the battered shells of those vessels which failed to do so. Brennan brought the ship to a crawl to ensure their safety. They were reduced to edging forward, making inch-by-inch progress through the wreckage and flotsam. Every man was on edge now, their eyes drinking in the shattered bones of all the ships lost, and keeping a watch for potential dangers. Their carpenter meanwhile surveyed the damage of their near miss, and determined it insignificant enough to carry on until making port.
Davy left his charge strung up and joined Avery at the helm. “Never seen a man go stark raving mad like that,” he said, sounding worried over this turn of events. His eyes scanned their surroundings, watching with apprehension while they crept past another ancient shipwreck. “You think that’s what happened to the rest of them?” he wondered. It was all too easy to picture themselves in that position. “Men sailing themselves straight into the cliffs? It’s like those old legends… The Sirens of the Sea.”
Avery wasn’t much for superstitions, but he’d been enough places and seen enough strange things that he was open to possibilities. And after seeing a man he knew to have a rational mind react like that… Well it was hard not to denounce it completely. “I don’t know,” Avery admitted of the shipwrecks and sirens. His hands were clutching the helm so tightly his knuckles were bone white. His attention shifted to the man tied down to the mast, then up to the towering cliffs above. “Let’s just find our way to a bit of safe land to tread. Then we can worry about whether old wives tales have a any truth to them.”
Old legends were starting to sound all the more probable as they passed yet another scene of wreckage. But unlike the others littering the water at the base of the cliffs, this one was garbled among a high outcropping, as though something had hefted it right out of the sea and thrown and effortlessly thrown it into the air, letting it fall and break upon the jagged cliff side. A crooked and weathered mast hung upside down, reaching for the surface of the water as though with longing. Its loose rigging and tattered sails blew about mournfully in the wind. Avery couldn’t help but gape at the sight, at a complete loss for what could have managed such a feat. Perhaps the water level was higher here at one point… he tried to convince himself, looking for some kind of rationale.
“Not sure I’m keen to step foot on this land,” The quartermaster muttered, equally enthralled by the sight of a battered ship hanging from above.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a great thud from below, and Avery found the helm locked in place, their ship finding itself at a full stop. The sudden halt jostled the vessel and her crew alike, knocking those with poor balance right on their asses. Davy managed to keep his footing, while Avery had a grip on the helm for support. Shouts of fear and surprise emitted the crew, and they ran side to side, gazing down at the murky depths to investigate what happened.
“What’d we hit?” the Brennan called out, releasing the helm and joining the others on the deck along with Davy. Everything was at an absolute stand still; even the wind seemed to die down, no longer filling their sails.
“No idea, Cap’n!”
“Sand bar, maybe?”
“Check below for any damage! Make sure we’re not taking on any water.”
“Wait, I think I see something in the water!”
Sure enough, there was a shout from the crow’s nest to confirm it. High as he was, he could make out the long, slender shadow that skulked about the waters around their ship. And it looked massive enough to spring up and wrap around the vessel a good two times. With hands cupped around his mouth, Finn shouted loud as he could, voice carrying down to the crew on the deck.
“Something big below!” he warned them, frantically waving his arms this way and that.
That got Avery’s attention, and he hurried over to spy the surface of the water. He caught only a glimpse of movement, another black shape, this time in those murky depths, before it disappeared beneath the hull. It might have been a whale, for that was the only thing the captain had ever seen that was big enough to fit the bill of what he glanced. Not long after it disappeared from view there came another furious thudding, the entire ship vibrating against the blow. This one seemed even more violent than the last.
“What is that?” Cried a stumbling sailor, the fear thick on his voice.
His answer sprang out of the sea not a moment later, exploding from the surface and showering them all with a rain of brine. It was a stupendous creature, a serpent covered in scales bigger than a man’s fist and appearing as hard as diamonds. Ferocious eyes settled on the ship as it rose above them. Even the mist seemed to quiver in fear, scattering away from the movement as a long tongue came snaking past huge fangs, and tasted the damp air with inquisitive menace. It attention snapped to the forms moving about on deck, and, opening its maw, it leased a piercing screech. Avery was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by his disbelief while he stared up at the monstrosity But somehow he managed to retain enough sense to notice the creature was rearing back. That broke the spell keeping him in place, and the captain managed to leap out of the way just as the monster struck.
The sailor nearest him was not so lucky as to escape. Snapping jaws closed around the man’s torso, and immediately the serpent began to lash about, swinging its prey around with the man’s bloodcurdling screams ringing out for all to hear. Another crewman attempted to flee the scene, only to be struck by the erratic movements of the serpent’s head. The sheer force was enough to throw him aside, hurling him right overboard and into the churning waters. Everyone else managed to steer clear while the monster retreated, long, serpentine body sinking back beneath the waters and muting his victim’s screams beneath the frothing deep. The moment was surreal beyond imagining, and Avery would have refused to believe what he just witnessed if not for the raging seas left behind in the monster’s wake. There was even less time for denial when he realized the dark shape of that leviathan was rising once more. The beast was coming back for seconds.
Realizing the danger, Brennan turned to his terrorized men. “Batten down the hatches!” He roared, his commanding voice of their captain snapping them all back to reality. “To your stations! Edwards, the cannons!”
“Aye!” shouted the master gunner, a barrel chested man who hurriedly put his underlings to work. Those who could swallow their fears were quick about it, manning the cannons and swivels with all due haste. The raging voice of the master gunner was enough to unfreeze a couple of trembling powder monkeys, and the boys set to work, helping the gunners to load the cannons and prepare for the fight. There was precious little time before their foe returned, the hulking monstrosity writhing angrily about their ship. The first one to action was Finn, who acted as their guardian from on high. The wily sailor had boldly drawn his flintlock and fired upon the brute. The crack of his gunshot echoed off the stone cliffs surrounding them, and Avery looked up to see the puff of smoke from the weapon, as well as the serpent hissing out and looking for the source of the sting it just received.
The attack distracted the creature long enough that the crew could get the cannons loaded, but it cost them more than they could have guessed. Enraged, the monstrosity lunged for the crow’s nest, massive jaws enclosing around the wooden mast of the mast perching the crow’s nest. The bucket holding Finn came apart easily between those gnashing fangs, breaking to pieces and leaving their lookout no choice but to leap. Luckily, old Finn had fingers like fishhooks, and he managed to catch on to a bit of netting before he fell to his death. But there was no escape after that. The serpent was lashing again, and in a matter of moments, had laid ruin to the center royal and topmasts. Avery watched in despair, horror-struck by the sound of cracking, splintering wood. The sails were equally thrashed, the topmost teetering to the side and threatening a foul-up with the rest.
“Hurry up with those cannons!” he Captain Brennan shouted. “Give it a broadside before it tears the whole bloody ship apart!”
Debris from the monster’s efforts came raining down, once more causing Avery to dash to the side. The swivels were already going off, yet the beast shrugged off the rounds, blind in its furious attempt to bring the mast low. That all changed once the port side cannons were loaded. Edwards gave the order, and the gunners set them off simultaneously, delivering a volley right towards their colossal enemy. The vicious rocking of their ship threw off the accuracy, causing most to miss, but one cannonball managed to graze the creature with another striking home. The close impact was damaging, and the serpent tore away, screeching with lament as it dove back into the safety of the depths. The top of the center mast was hanging by a thread at that point, held up only by an entanglement of rigging. But the hold was paltry at best, and with a groan it gave out. Finn had no choice but to make another mad jump for it. This time he made for the waters, recklessly dropping a height that would have killed most men. Avery saw his form crash into the sea, only for the remnants of their mast came down, sending them scurrying like bilge rats.
Not everyone escaped the fall. The helmsman had no way to run, bound as he was, but didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were wide with joy as he watched the beam come tumbling, not a care in the world as he was crushed beneath it. Three other men met his fate, caught beneath the heavy obstruction which also destroyed the cannon they manned. The broken half of mast left the deck in ruins, ripped sails hanging out over the surface of the water. Avery stared at the wreckage, scarcely able to accept what losing a master out in these uncharted waters meant for them. But there was no time to mourn; not time to think even. The danger was still very much alive and present. The serpent broke free of the surface yet again, angrier than ever after the blow it had been dealt. Avery stumbled back upon seeing its fury, his breath heavy and heart racing.
“Brennan!” he heard Davy shouting, and he looked over to see the quartermaster holding a pair of rifles. “Don’t just stand there gawking! Fight the bastard!” He tossed one of the guns over to him, and the captain caught it out of the air, bewildered by everything going on.
Once again the snake was poised to strike, and Avery abandoned all logical thought, losing himself in the adrenaline. With a furious shout, he lifted the weapon up to aim and opened fire. His quartermaster had done the same, their rounds joining in with the barrage from the swivels. Chances of survival were pretty much none, especially with a busted mast, but Davy was right. To give up now would be to accept death. They had to keep fighting against the odds, lest they ended up another shattered edition to that graveyard of ships around them. And so fight he did, the surroundings wracked by the sound of gunpowder and war as the sailors struggled in vain, their assault having little effect on the creature that savaged them.
And once again, the math added up, reassuring him that the problem lied not with his navigation. The wooden chair groaned as he leaned back, considering the implications of this. Had he truly just wasted over a year of his life chasing some fantasy? That’s what I get for trusting word of mouth, he scolded himself, soft blue eyes roaming over the cluttered mess of his desk. Navigator’s tools were strewn about, from his compass and quadrant, to the astrolabe and large celestial globe that helped him keep track of the heavens. But it was the hourglass his gaze lingered on. The sand had nearly emptied into the bottom half, making him bitterly aware of yet another hour spent trying to find a myth he was foolish enough to believe in. For a moment he wallowed in the fact, long fingers drumming against the arm of his chair while he watched the time literally drain away. Once the last grain had fallen, he rose from his seat, retrieved the time measure, and flipped it to start the process over again.
Not for the first time, he wondered if he should call off this search. It was a decision that weighed heavily on him over the last few days, and it did so especially now, as he meandered over to the elegant windows that adorned the captain’s quarters. He peered out into that great, sapphire expanse, looking back the way they’d come and pondering if they should turn about. The hard decision left him feeling much like the frothing waters left in the wake of their hull; churned up and conflicted, instead of calm and serene like the open waters abaft. No doubt the men longed to return to shore, to see and hold their families again. But Avery had none of that waiting for him back in the civilized world. He lived for the adventure of his journeys; for the thrill of setting out into the unknown and making new discoveries. Nothing got his heart pumping more than setting foot on unexploited soil; of exploring a world unknown and untouched by man. To turn back now would be to give up any chance of that rush for a long time to come.
What am I to do next? He ruminated, eyes latched to the sea, sparkling with a touch of gold in the afternoon sun. Before an solution could be deduced, there was a sudden knock at his door.
“Cap’n Brennan!” Boomed the voice of his quartermaster, who did not wait for a reply before throwing the cabin door wide open and showing himself inside. The quartermaster was a burly man, with sun-kissed skin that was blemished with numerous scars, fierce amber eyes, and a scraggly beard, once pitch black, but now bearing a touch of gray better suited to his years. He waited until he had the captain’s full attention before explaining why he had come. “Beggin’ your pardons Cap’n, but you’d best come ‘ave a look outside.”
Brennan gave him an odd look, stepping away from the window and back to his desk. “Why?” he asked, moving some of his instruments aside in order to roll up his sea chart and return it to the airtight bottle which kept it safe and dry. “What is it, Davy?”
“Something strange,” the seasoned crewman told him, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Might be something, or nothing at all.”
They’d been running on nothing for so long that any prospect sounded good at this point, so his interest piqued, Avery slipped the compass into the pocket of his coat, and followed the man out onto the main deck. The strong breeze tugged at his hair and clothes, and he breathed deep of the salty air as they walked. Everything seemed calm and peaceful for the moment, with the crew either attending to their duties or enjoying leisure time while they had the chance. A few acknowledged their captain as he passed, and Brennan nodded in kind while Davy led him to the starboard side of the ship. Once they had a clear view of the vast waters, the quartermaster fetched a spyglass from his belt and handed it over to the captain.
“Take a look,” he told him.
Avery accepted the scope and lifted it to his right eye, peering out in the distance. At first he didn’t realize what he was meant to see. It just looked like that same endless, blue world he’d spied every day before. The ocean stretched on and on, eventually melding into a mountain of clouds upon the horizon. Or at least, Avery thought they were clouds, but the longer he looked the less certain of that he became. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, like they were rising up out of the sea.
“What is that?” he asked, “Smoke?”
“Fog, I think,” answered Davy.
Avery frowned and lowered the spyglass. He gave the quartermaster a perplexed look. “Have you ever seen fog out in the middle of the sea like that before?”
“No,” he said, thumb and index finger coming to rub at his scratchy beard. “’least not in waters this warm. Could be a good indicator there’s land in that direction. Something’s got to be causing it anyway.”
“Mm,” Avery considered that, once more lifting the glass to investigate the mysterious haze. He couldn’t say for sure what the source was, but land would indeed make sense. It was possible mountains could push cooler air out over the sea and stir up a fog like that, but it would take a pretty large landmass; one they surely would have spotted long before now.
“What’s the order, Cap’n?” Davy asked, watching him intently.
Avery collapsed the spyglass and handed it back to the man. “Make for starboard,” he said, “Let’s have a closer look.”
“Aye Aye, Sir.” Davy relayed the orders, voice carrying across the deck, and an instant later the ship became a flurry of activity. The helmsman spun the steering wheel and diverted the course, while the rest of the men worked the sails to better catch the wind. As if the seas themselves willed it, those winds began to change. A squall rose up out of no where, filling their sails and speeding them onwards to their destination. “Maybe our luck’s changing for the better,” the quartermaster mused, amber eyes staring up at the rigging and sails as they reaped the unexpected bounty.
“Maybe so,” Brennan agreed, a spark of excitement coursing through his veins. A bank of fog wasn’t much to go on, but it was a little flame of hope and the captain was all too eager to latch on to it.
~
Despite having the wind at their backs, it took a considerable amount of time before they actually reached their destination. The sun had sank further towards the ocean, retreating beneath the great cloud of fog even as the stem of their ship reached for its misty embrace. The crew was silent as they penetrated the gloom, every man eyeing the fog with a look of apprehension as it swallowed their vessel whole. It was like entering a strange, ghostly world, mist settling all around them. Avery stood upon the prow, peering out with worry over the poor visibility. Scowling, he turned back, making for the helm and shouting orders along the way. “Take her down to half sail!” he barked, setting the men to the task. If there was actually land to be discover he didn’t want to do so by crashing into it.
As his orders were followed and the sails trimmed, the ship began to lose its speed. But it wasn’t enough to quell his fears of running aground. “Oi, Finn!” he shouted out, catching the attention of their fastest climber. “Get up into the nest and have a lookout!” The mist looked a little thinner up high, perhaps he would have a better view of any impending danger.
“Aye, Cap’n!” replied the sailor. Quick as could be, he made his way up the ropes, going hand over hand to scale the mast, and pulled himself into the bucket of the crow’s nest. While he took out a scope and kept watch ahead from on high, Avery joined his helmsman and kept a close view on the murky waters directly in front of them.
“Keep her steady lad,” the captain said to the helmsman, sharp eyes peering through the dense shroud that permeated the atmosphere. The further along they went the deeper the fog seemed to get. Worse yet, he moisture was thick enough that beads of dew clung to ship and their clothes, leaving them drenched before long. Avery brushed the back of his hand against his brow, clearing away the wetness before it irritated his eyes and made things even harder to see. If it got much denser than this they would be sailing blind, and only a fool would continue then. Yet Avery couldn’t find it in himself to turn around. Something deep down was calling to him, urging him on and daring him to take the risk. And then, there was a shout from high above.
“LAND HO!” Cried Finn from the crow’s nest, pointing into the distance. “Dead ahead!”
A rush of excitement broke out below, the men trying to see what he’d spotted. It came first as inky black shapes in the distance, imposing shadows deep within the mist that rose even higher than the masts of their ship. As they drew nearer, the fog began to dissipate, growing thin enough for them to realize the entities were towering citadels of stone. The bones of the Earth reached high above them, slabs of dark gray rock with crawling vines of green webbed around them. Some of the spires reached so high you had to crane your neck just to see the tops of them breaking through the mist. Others were far shorter, more jagged and reaching out like teeth keen to smash their hull to bits Avery knew there were likely to be far more they could not see, those short enough to be hidden within the fog and probably even beneath the surface.
“Best give her a wide berth,” he said to his helmsman, looking upon the sheer cliffs and spires with wary fervor. “Keep her to port.” As far as he could tell there was no where safe to dock. “Circle about and we’ll see if there’s any shore we can reach.”
But the helmsman didn’t seem to hear him. The crewman was looking straight ahead, his eyes wider than the captain had ever seen a man’s. He held an intense focus on his face, as though he could see right through the fog to behold some wonder beyond it that was invisible to the rest of them. The boat continued right along its course, drawing ever nearer to the perilous geological formation.
“Do you see it?” he asked, sounding almost breathless. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Avery might have assumed he was talking about the cliff face if not for that strange, bewildered expression he wore. “See what?” The captain demanded to know. He followed his regard out into the haze, but could see nothing worth any attention. “Sailor, I gave you an order.”
“Can’t you see it?” he shouted more eagerly, and suddenly, he spun the helm to starboard, the complete the opposite of the direction he’d been given, and putting them all the closer to those deadly rocks.
Avery stepped forward to reprimand the sailor but stopped. The fog grew ever thinner, and now he did see something. It was another inky, black, shape concealed by wisps of haze. But this one was contorted and strange, nothing like those imposing towers that reached for the sky. As they came closer other shapes popped up along in the distance, as twisted as the first. Avery stared out at the silhouettes, confused by the sight at first. What could they be? But now they were close enough to spy the figures in greater detail, and all at once the horrifying reality dawned on him. Those twisted shapes were in fact ships, enough for a small fleet of them, in fact, and all of them scattered and broken, their hulls torn to pieces across jutting rocks. But the helmsman didn’t seem to notice. He was sailing straight ahead to join the wreckage, as though this graveyard of vessels was in fact a paradise to his eyes.
Avery shouted at the man, trying to draw him back to his senses. But that was ignored , leaving him no choice but to act fast. He lunged for the helm, ramming the sailor aside with a shoulder and making a hard over to port in the same urgent motion. The crew had to fight for their footing over the sudden action, everyone stumbling about while the ship groaned and veered. Fast action saved them from the brunt of damage, but it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the prow of the nearest wreck. The starboard side of their hull scraped against it, blasting through and sending a weathered old figurehead sinking beneath thrashing waters. Avery set his jaw and continued to spin the helm about, trying to steer them clear of the next impending ship wreck. He began to shout orders to his men, only to find the helmsman popping back up and fighting him for control of the ship again.
“No! You’ll spoil everything!” the man was shouting, his voice raw and savage. He kicked and screamed, doing whatever he could to make the captain surrender the helm.
“Davy! Harper! Get up here!” Brennan roared, frantically trying to keep control of the ship while also fighting off the bewitched sailor. His quartermaster and boatswain hurried over and subdued the mad man, giving the captain the space he needed to safely maneuver them across the dangerous waters. Brennan’s heart felt like it was going to thump right out of his chest as he focused on the task at hand, continuing to bellow out his commands. “Hop to! Shorten the sails! And Davy, tie that fool to the mast!” Even now the helmsman fought against his captors, absolutely raving in his attempt to take over Avery’s position.
The men did as they were asked, the quartermaster dragging the madman over to the nearest mast and tying him in place with a bundle of rope. His captive screamed all the while, an eerie droning across the foggy mist. It made things all the more stressful while the crew worked tirelessly to navigate safe and true through the battered shells of those vessels which failed to do so. Brennan brought the ship to a crawl to ensure their safety. They were reduced to edging forward, making inch-by-inch progress through the wreckage and flotsam. Every man was on edge now, their eyes drinking in the shattered bones of all the ships lost, and keeping a watch for potential dangers. Their carpenter meanwhile surveyed the damage of their near miss, and determined it insignificant enough to carry on until making port.
Davy left his charge strung up and joined Avery at the helm. “Never seen a man go stark raving mad like that,” he said, sounding worried over this turn of events. His eyes scanned their surroundings, watching with apprehension while they crept past another ancient shipwreck. “You think that’s what happened to the rest of them?” he wondered. It was all too easy to picture themselves in that position. “Men sailing themselves straight into the cliffs? It’s like those old legends… The Sirens of the Sea.”
Avery wasn’t much for superstitions, but he’d been enough places and seen enough strange things that he was open to possibilities. And after seeing a man he knew to have a rational mind react like that… Well it was hard not to denounce it completely. “I don’t know,” Avery admitted of the shipwrecks and sirens. His hands were clutching the helm so tightly his knuckles were bone white. His attention shifted to the man tied down to the mast, then up to the towering cliffs above. “Let’s just find our way to a bit of safe land to tread. Then we can worry about whether old wives tales have a any truth to them.”
Old legends were starting to sound all the more probable as they passed yet another scene of wreckage. But unlike the others littering the water at the base of the cliffs, this one was garbled among a high outcropping, as though something had hefted it right out of the sea and thrown and effortlessly thrown it into the air, letting it fall and break upon the jagged cliff side. A crooked and weathered mast hung upside down, reaching for the surface of the water as though with longing. Its loose rigging and tattered sails blew about mournfully in the wind. Avery couldn’t help but gape at the sight, at a complete loss for what could have managed such a feat. Perhaps the water level was higher here at one point… he tried to convince himself, looking for some kind of rationale.
“Not sure I’m keen to step foot on this land,” The quartermaster muttered, equally enthralled by the sight of a battered ship hanging from above.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a great thud from below, and Avery found the helm locked in place, their ship finding itself at a full stop. The sudden halt jostled the vessel and her crew alike, knocking those with poor balance right on their asses. Davy managed to keep his footing, while Avery had a grip on the helm for support. Shouts of fear and surprise emitted the crew, and they ran side to side, gazing down at the murky depths to investigate what happened.
“What’d we hit?” the Brennan called out, releasing the helm and joining the others on the deck along with Davy. Everything was at an absolute stand still; even the wind seemed to die down, no longer filling their sails.
“No idea, Cap’n!”
“Sand bar, maybe?”
“Check below for any damage! Make sure we’re not taking on any water.”
“Wait, I think I see something in the water!”
Sure enough, there was a shout from the crow’s nest to confirm it. High as he was, he could make out the long, slender shadow that skulked about the waters around their ship. And it looked massive enough to spring up and wrap around the vessel a good two times. With hands cupped around his mouth, Finn shouted loud as he could, voice carrying down to the crew on the deck.
“Something big below!” he warned them, frantically waving his arms this way and that.
That got Avery’s attention, and he hurried over to spy the surface of the water. He caught only a glimpse of movement, another black shape, this time in those murky depths, before it disappeared beneath the hull. It might have been a whale, for that was the only thing the captain had ever seen that was big enough to fit the bill of what he glanced. Not long after it disappeared from view there came another furious thudding, the entire ship vibrating against the blow. This one seemed even more violent than the last.
“What is that?” Cried a stumbling sailor, the fear thick on his voice.
His answer sprang out of the sea not a moment later, exploding from the surface and showering them all with a rain of brine. It was a stupendous creature, a serpent covered in scales bigger than a man’s fist and appearing as hard as diamonds. Ferocious eyes settled on the ship as it rose above them. Even the mist seemed to quiver in fear, scattering away from the movement as a long tongue came snaking past huge fangs, and tasted the damp air with inquisitive menace. It attention snapped to the forms moving about on deck, and, opening its maw, it leased a piercing screech. Avery was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by his disbelief while he stared up at the monstrosity But somehow he managed to retain enough sense to notice the creature was rearing back. That broke the spell keeping him in place, and the captain managed to leap out of the way just as the monster struck.
The sailor nearest him was not so lucky as to escape. Snapping jaws closed around the man’s torso, and immediately the serpent began to lash about, swinging its prey around with the man’s bloodcurdling screams ringing out for all to hear. Another crewman attempted to flee the scene, only to be struck by the erratic movements of the serpent’s head. The sheer force was enough to throw him aside, hurling him right overboard and into the churning waters. Everyone else managed to steer clear while the monster retreated, long, serpentine body sinking back beneath the waters and muting his victim’s screams beneath the frothing deep. The moment was surreal beyond imagining, and Avery would have refused to believe what he just witnessed if not for the raging seas left behind in the monster’s wake. There was even less time for denial when he realized the dark shape of that leviathan was rising once more. The beast was coming back for seconds.
Realizing the danger, Brennan turned to his terrorized men. “Batten down the hatches!” He roared, his commanding voice of their captain snapping them all back to reality. “To your stations! Edwards, the cannons!”
“Aye!” shouted the master gunner, a barrel chested man who hurriedly put his underlings to work. Those who could swallow their fears were quick about it, manning the cannons and swivels with all due haste. The raging voice of the master gunner was enough to unfreeze a couple of trembling powder monkeys, and the boys set to work, helping the gunners to load the cannons and prepare for the fight. There was precious little time before their foe returned, the hulking monstrosity writhing angrily about their ship. The first one to action was Finn, who acted as their guardian from on high. The wily sailor had boldly drawn his flintlock and fired upon the brute. The crack of his gunshot echoed off the stone cliffs surrounding them, and Avery looked up to see the puff of smoke from the weapon, as well as the serpent hissing out and looking for the source of the sting it just received.
The attack distracted the creature long enough that the crew could get the cannons loaded, but it cost them more than they could have guessed. Enraged, the monstrosity lunged for the crow’s nest, massive jaws enclosing around the wooden mast of the mast perching the crow’s nest. The bucket holding Finn came apart easily between those gnashing fangs, breaking to pieces and leaving their lookout no choice but to leap. Luckily, old Finn had fingers like fishhooks, and he managed to catch on to a bit of netting before he fell to his death. But there was no escape after that. The serpent was lashing again, and in a matter of moments, had laid ruin to the center royal and topmasts. Avery watched in despair, horror-struck by the sound of cracking, splintering wood. The sails were equally thrashed, the topmost teetering to the side and threatening a foul-up with the rest.
“Hurry up with those cannons!” he Captain Brennan shouted. “Give it a broadside before it tears the whole bloody ship apart!”
Debris from the monster’s efforts came raining down, once more causing Avery to dash to the side. The swivels were already going off, yet the beast shrugged off the rounds, blind in its furious attempt to bring the mast low. That all changed once the port side cannons were loaded. Edwards gave the order, and the gunners set them off simultaneously, delivering a volley right towards their colossal enemy. The vicious rocking of their ship threw off the accuracy, causing most to miss, but one cannonball managed to graze the creature with another striking home. The close impact was damaging, and the serpent tore away, screeching with lament as it dove back into the safety of the depths. The top of the center mast was hanging by a thread at that point, held up only by an entanglement of rigging. But the hold was paltry at best, and with a groan it gave out. Finn had no choice but to make another mad jump for it. This time he made for the waters, recklessly dropping a height that would have killed most men. Avery saw his form crash into the sea, only for the remnants of their mast came down, sending them scurrying like bilge rats.
Not everyone escaped the fall. The helmsman had no way to run, bound as he was, but didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were wide with joy as he watched the beam come tumbling, not a care in the world as he was crushed beneath it. Three other men met his fate, caught beneath the heavy obstruction which also destroyed the cannon they manned. The broken half of mast left the deck in ruins, ripped sails hanging out over the surface of the water. Avery stared at the wreckage, scarcely able to accept what losing a master out in these uncharted waters meant for them. But there was no time to mourn; not time to think even. The danger was still very much alive and present. The serpent broke free of the surface yet again, angrier than ever after the blow it had been dealt. Avery stumbled back upon seeing its fury, his breath heavy and heart racing.
“Brennan!” he heard Davy shouting, and he looked over to see the quartermaster holding a pair of rifles. “Don’t just stand there gawking! Fight the bastard!” He tossed one of the guns over to him, and the captain caught it out of the air, bewildered by everything going on.
Once again the snake was poised to strike, and Avery abandoned all logical thought, losing himself in the adrenaline. With a furious shout, he lifted the weapon up to aim and opened fire. His quartermaster had done the same, their rounds joining in with the barrage from the swivels. Chances of survival were pretty much none, especially with a busted mast, but Davy was right. To give up now would be to accept death. They had to keep fighting against the odds, lest they ended up another shattered edition to that graveyard of ships around them. And so fight he did, the surroundings wracked by the sound of gunpowder and war as the sailors struggled in vain, their assault having little effect on the creature that savaged them.