The sandy beach kicked up dust into the humid air. The tropical island seemed to constantly be in a raging thunderstorm, like a beast that has not been put to rest. In the sands lie a person with white and light blue hair, fast asleep. Lightning struck the ground and shocked them awake. Her arms pushed forward and grabbed the sand with little to no success. Her legs kicked up and brought her to her knees and eventually on her feet. Her clothes were brown rags that were torn and soaked from top to bottom. The rain pounded the grass and the sandy shore, making ripples across the surrounding ocean.
Digging noises were heard just above a cliff where a man stood solemnly with a shovel. A stone was set in the ground with words carved in with a knife, Rip Tucker. The woman scaled the small cliff and saw the man with black hair who was wearing the same tattered rags as her. He didn’t even look back, only alerted to her presence by the small snapping of a twig as more thunder roared. “I see you’re awake.”
She looked around and noticed a coconut that fell next to her feet. “Who are you? Where are we?”
He scoffed, “I wouldn’t expect you to know my name.. It’s Morden. What do you mean ‘Where are we?’ You are the greatest sailor in the Bronze Sea. I’d assume you knew your way around here.”
“I am?”
“You really don’t remember anything, huh?” Morden continued to stare at the grave and plummeted the sharp end of the shovel into the dirt so it stood up on its own. “You helped us escape from the clutches of whoever was trying to torture us. You and your followers did.” Morden finally looked at her and approached her. “Take this knife, it isn’t up to me to decide where you go in these seas but take this advice.” She closed her hand on the base of the knife. “There are spare rowboats. The safest and closest town from this island is a place called Redwake. You should go there if you want to get some rest. If you want to find me, I’m stopping in Sailors Lodge for a while.”
The wooden hull on the rowboat scraped the side to the docks of Redwake. A young girl hid beneath a platform that led to the main part of the town. “What are you doing here? Run!” The young girl whisper-yelled across the docks.
She walked and crouched next to the girl, “Is something wrong?”
“Leave unless you want to get beaten up and raided by pirates!” Her eyes were wide as she looked up between the cracks in the platform. Footsteps hit the stone floor to the town just a few feet away above it.
“I’ll take care of this.” She spoke, her hands covered in an icy glaze.
“You’ll be killed!” She tried to shout after her but the woman had already leaped into danger.
“Hey Mike, remember what we did to the last airhead who tried to conquer us?” The pirate stared at the woman and cracked his knuckles. Crossing the bridges that connected all of the floating island of Redwake, the rest of the pirates smile ear to ear unsheathing their cutlasses. The woman stood with her feet apart and her arms outstretched. The ice traveled down her hands to her arms and up to her neck. The pirates drew closer and reached a full sprint. Slowly her arms and her fingers clasped together. The pirates reached in to stab and just like that an icy blast was released from her body releasing frozen shards from her skin and causing all the pirates in the surrounding area to collapse.
She stretched her hand out to the girl who was hiding and walked her into the tavern at the far end of town. “I can’t thank you enough for your help.” She took a rag and started to clean cups that were left on the bar counter. “For your kindness I booked you a room free of charge. There’s some clothes up there for you too.” She thanked the tavern owner and went up to her room. On the table next to her bed was an Agora Times newspaper. She picked it up and read the first headline.
“Tragedy Strikes the Bronze Sea! Last month the elite members of the Cult of Glacia left on a classified mission with a promise of return to all their followers. However, one week ago debris of the Sunken Fist, the Cults main ship, was found near Sailor’s Lodge and Sandfall Isle. From evidence gathered by the hull, it is to be assumed that the ship was shot down by unknown forces. What many people are now asking is, how was it even possible to shoot down the Sunken Fist with the Sea’s best sailors aboard? All bodies have been recovered and those who had survived had been relocated across the Bronze Sea. The only missing person now is the Cult’s leader, Andera Treas. We ask that if you have any information to please report it to the Grand Navy.” She set the newspaper down on the side table, turned off the lamp and drifted to sleep.
“Morning! My father, the Chief of Redwake, would like to speak to you when you have the time!” The woman walked down the stairs to the first floor of the tavern. She took a drink off of the counter and tossed some galleons where the cup once was.
“I’ll be sure to visit, where is he?”
“Just take a left when you walk out of here. He will be pleased to meet you.” The woman opened the door to the tavern but was stopped halfway out of the doorframe. “Wait, I forgot to ask! What is your name, hero?”
“It’s Andera Treas, pleased to meet you.”