Kings of the Skies Chapter 2 - Cal
Welcome back to Scribbles! Before we hop into this week's serial continuation, we just have an announcement:
Smoke clung in the air as ash swirled in the strong wind. The first of the raindrops were descending, splattering over the half capsized Blade, flames sizzling and popping as they struggled to burn the last bits of sparring and rigging of the demolished, once fast and swift, ship.
On a small hunk of wood, smoldering and blackened on one end that bobbed in and out of the choppy water, a sailor hung on. His arms were burnt, the flesh having being seared away by dragon fire. His clothes stuck to him, soaked from the top of his ruddy mess of hair, to his bare feet, submerged in the sea. He watched the skies, quivering from the cold, as well as from the fear of a dragon devouring him.
But as the storm rolled in, silence fell except for the pitter of the rain on bits of wreckage scattered like someone had taken a box of matchsticks and cast them aimlessly into a pool. The blood and oil was washed away by the ever increasing waves. The sailor simply hung on, drifting towards the distant, but distinct shoreline rising into the overcast day. As darkness descended he pulled what little measure of grit and determination left, and hauled himself fully on to the wreckage that was his raft.
~ ~ ~
A bright flash of light woke the sailor, Cal as he went by, to his feet. In a startled mess he staggered to his knees, expecting a dragon roar or a shout, only to slump back down as the realization of morning hit him. He would’ve groaned in pain, had his mouth not been so dry that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his throat felt as if it had been stuffed with sand. All he managed was a low gurgle and a wheezy cough. The pain shot through his throat like an arrow, and he nearly hurled himself into the sea for want of water.
A small voice echoed in his mind. Hold on Cal! There will be rescue parties. Hang on. You can survive. He dragged his weary body to the edge of the raft and, clutching it with both hands, plunged his head into it. The shock woke him once more, and a relief flooded over his tired face. He held his head under for a long while before pulling it out with a deep breath. The rest of his boy yearned to fling itself into the waves, now simple ripples lapping at the edges of the raft, but if a breeze came upon Cal it would be quite the frigid experience. Best to not take chances. I’ll wait it out.
~ ~ ~
The rescue ship arrived within an hour. Cal was willing to be dragged out of the water and led to a room below deck of the Arien. The room was too short for Cal, considered tall among most, so he crashed to a cot in the corner. The only light in the room was a small candle dangling from the center beam of the ceiling. As a crew member arrived with a flask of water, Cal snatched it and hauled himself to the top deck. The het below was difficult to bear at any time, especially when he had just bee baking out in the sun for hours. He popped off the cork of the flask and took a large swig of water, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it over the deck. He tried to wiggle his tongue and took another large swig, spitting it out.
Just as Cal finally took a small sip of water and let it run down his throat, the captain of the ship lumbered up from behind. To say he was large was accurate, but not adequate. He had the grace of a walrus, the step of a dragon, and the voice of a herald. Cal winced as he bellowed orders to two sailors at the cows nest. Spotting Cal, he sauntered over, giving Cal a hearty slap on the back, just as Cal took a large gulp of water. The result had Cal coughing his lungs out over the boat as the captain stood by watching, a helpless grin on his face. Cal turned, sucking in a breath.
“Awfully sorry about that m’boy!” he hollered. “What’s your name? Are you alright?”
Cal stuck out his hand, and in return got it crushed by the largest handshake of his life. He slipped his wounded hand behind his back, flexing the fingers. “It’s quite alright.” He gave a faint smile. “I go by Cal. And no, I’m not alright. As you can see,” he gestured to his arms, “my arms were pretty roughed up last night, and I some clothes that haven’t been mauled.”
The general grinned. “At once.” He turned towards the stern. “Auxy! This boy needs medical attention and some clothes.”
Auxy, a wiry young fellow with a shock of brown hair, the makings of an attempted moustache, and the smallest hands, especially in comparison to the captain’s, that Cal had ever seen. But it was the eyes that snagged His attention. They’re blue. He’s not from here. Auxy smiled, showing a row of pearly white teeth. Cal let out a light laugh. Ten years from now he’ll be lucky if he’s got half that many. And they won’t be white either.
“My name’s Auxy,” he said thrusting his out. Cal took it, trying to not envelope Auxy’s entire hand.
“Cal.”
“Follow me. I’ll get you patched up.”
As Cal turned to leave the captain tapped his shoulder. “Once he gets you fixed up, we need to talk. I need to know what happened to the Blade.”
Cal nodded, his face turning to a frown. “You won’t like it.”
~
And this concludes this week's segment! Remember to come back next Monday for more Kings of the Skies!
Before you go, be sure to vote for the fandom poll and check out all of Alex's Grand Adventures before we take them down for good!
~SarChi
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Last week: (to read full story click here)
This week:
Smoke clung in the air as ash swirled in the strong wind. The first of the raindrops were descending, splattering over the half capsized Blade, flames sizzling and popping as they struggled to burn the last bits of sparring and rigging of the demolished, once fast and swift, ship.
On a small hunk of wood, smoldering and blackened on one end that bobbed in and out of the choppy water, a sailor hung on. His arms were burnt, the flesh having being seared away by dragon fire. His clothes stuck to him, soaked from the top of his ruddy mess of hair, to his bare feet, submerged in the sea. He watched the skies, quivering from the cold, as well as from the fear of a dragon devouring him.
But as the storm rolled in, silence fell except for the pitter of the rain on bits of wreckage scattered like someone had taken a box of matchsticks and cast them aimlessly into a pool. The blood and oil was washed away by the ever increasing waves. The sailor simply hung on, drifting towards the distant, but distinct shoreline rising into the overcast day. As darkness descended he pulled what little measure of grit and determination left, and hauled himself fully on to the wreckage that was his raft.
~ ~ ~
A bright flash of light woke the sailor, Cal as he went by, to his feet. In a startled mess he staggered to his knees, expecting a dragon roar or a shout, only to slump back down as the realization of morning hit him. He would’ve groaned in pain, had his mouth not been so dry that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his throat felt as if it had been stuffed with sand. All he managed was a low gurgle and a wheezy cough. The pain shot through his throat like an arrow, and he nearly hurled himself into the sea for want of water.
A small voice echoed in his mind. Hold on Cal! There will be rescue parties. Hang on. You can survive. He dragged his weary body to the edge of the raft and, clutching it with both hands, plunged his head into it. The shock woke him once more, and a relief flooded over his tired face. He held his head under for a long while before pulling it out with a deep breath. The rest of his boy yearned to fling itself into the waves, now simple ripples lapping at the edges of the raft, but if a breeze came upon Cal it would be quite the frigid experience. Best to not take chances. I’ll wait it out.
~ ~ ~
The rescue ship arrived within an hour. Cal was willing to be dragged out of the water and led to a room below deck of the Arien. The room was too short for Cal, considered tall among most, so he crashed to a cot in the corner. The only light in the room was a small candle dangling from the center beam of the ceiling. As a crew member arrived with a flask of water, Cal snatched it and hauled himself to the top deck. The het below was difficult to bear at any time, especially when he had just bee baking out in the sun for hours. He popped off the cork of the flask and took a large swig of water, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it over the deck. He tried to wiggle his tongue and took another large swig, spitting it out.
Just as Cal finally took a small sip of water and let it run down his throat, the captain of the ship lumbered up from behind. To say he was large was accurate, but not adequate. He had the grace of a walrus, the step of a dragon, and the voice of a herald. Cal winced as he bellowed orders to two sailors at the cows nest. Spotting Cal, he sauntered over, giving Cal a hearty slap on the back, just as Cal took a large gulp of water. The result had Cal coughing his lungs out over the boat as the captain stood by watching, a helpless grin on his face. Cal turned, sucking in a breath.
“Awfully sorry about that m’boy!” he hollered. “What’s your name? Are you alright?”
Cal stuck out his hand, and in return got it crushed by the largest handshake of his life. He slipped his wounded hand behind his back, flexing the fingers. “It’s quite alright.” He gave a faint smile. “I go by Cal. And no, I’m not alright. As you can see,” he gestured to his arms, “my arms were pretty roughed up last night, and I some clothes that haven’t been mauled.”
The general grinned. “At once.” He turned towards the stern. “Auxy! This boy needs medical attention and some clothes.”
Auxy, a wiry young fellow with a shock of brown hair, the makings of an attempted moustache, and the smallest hands, especially in comparison to the captain’s, that Cal had ever seen. But it was the eyes that snagged His attention. They’re blue. He’s not from here. Auxy smiled, showing a row of pearly white teeth. Cal let out a light laugh. Ten years from now he’ll be lucky if he’s got half that many. And they won’t be white either.
“My name’s Auxy,” he said thrusting his out. Cal took it, trying to not envelope Auxy’s entire hand.
“Cal.”
“Follow me. I’ll get you patched up.”
As Cal turned to leave the captain tapped his shoulder. “Once he gets you fixed up, we need to talk. I need to know what happened to the Blade.”
Cal nodded, his face turning to a frown. “You won’t like it.”
~
And this concludes this week's segment! Remember to come back next Monday for more Kings of the Skies!
Before you go, be sure to vote for the fandom poll and check out all of Alex's Grand Adventures before we take them down for good!
~SarChi
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