Chronicles of Sallindar, Part 1

PROLOGUE

The waves crashed on the ship as it pushed through the storm. Never before had the seasoned sailors of the Flying Sword sailed through such dangerous waters. The crew was primarily made up of merchants, but they were among the most skilled on the high seas. The captain had been a sailor longer than any man on the ship, but even he was weary of the situation. Now he wished that he had not allowed his seven-year-old son to come on this journey with him. He couldn't help it though. Since the boy could talk he had been asking his father to take him when he would sail to other islands. His gut told him to leave his son at home one more time, but his heart said it would be good to allow his son to have this experience of sailing with his father. Besides, not many people from their island had the opportunity to travel across the sea. He looked in the direction of the small life boats. They were still there. He didn’t know what he expected, but it was reassuring to know that they were there if they were needed.
The captain lashed the helm in place and turned around long enough to check on his young son. He could see the boy's silhouette through the window of the captain's cabin. He was glad that he could not see the boy's face. He knew that the terrified eyes of his boy would be enough to make even the most experienced soldier break down into tears.
The boy watched his father through the windows, despite the warning to stay as far away as possible. His little knuckles were white as he tightly grasped the window sill and fought for balance as the ship bucked with the waves like the wild stallions of Sallindar. Around his neck he wore a chain with a large silver ring on it. His father had feared the worst and asked him to hold to it for safe keeping. Staying inside his father’s cabin protecting the ring made the child feel like he was helping. It also helped the father know he was safe and out of the way of the other sailors.
Fearing that the ship would not survive this storm the captain made the decision to turn around. The crew was not going to make it back to Sallindar in this weather, but they may be able to make it back to the Macedon, the large island that they had just left that morning, and out of the back of the storm. It was only a few hours ago when the crew lost sight of Macedon’s peaceful harbor. How were they dealing with the storm? Would the Flying Sword be able to reach the island and safety in time?
As the captain turned the boat hard to starboard there was a loud crack. Fearing the worst he looked up at the mast as it began to violently sway back and forth between the bow and aft of the ship. The wind had been too much for such a sharp turn. Time froze as both captain and crew realized that they had no choice but to wait out the storm. Then as suddenly as time froze, it rushed back into play as the wind allowed for one more violent gust which was just enough to push the mast over. Both father and son were paralyzed with fear as the mast began to fall towards the captain’s cabin. Instinctively the father threw himself through the window where the son was standing and grabbed the boy in his arms. As they hit the floor, the father rolled to his left as the mast crashed through the roof of the cabin and all the way through the lower deck.
The boat was now taking on dark icy water. Holding his son tightly in his arms the father made his way towards the life boats. He placed his son and his dagger in one of the small boats and began to let it down. As the father prepared to jump in the water to get back to his son he was thrown overboard by a large explosion as lightning hit the deck of the ship near the front of the boat. This threw the bulkhead of the ship through the air and towards the young boy in the lifeboat. When he finally reached the surface the ship was engulfed in giant tongues of flame. What was worse was that his son was no where to be found. Frantically the father swam around the wreckage of the ship looking for his son. After what seemed like an eternity he found the lifeboat. That was all he ever found. His son was gone and the lifeboat was missing an entire side from where the bulkhead at crashed into it. The remains of the small lifeboat seemed to be a skeleton of the father’s dying hopes.
Eventually exhaustion began to take over the man's body. He hung on to what was left of the lifeboat for the remainder of the storm. As the storm died down a shadow begin to move across the water towards the desperate man.
The Flying Sword would never see another voyage as the body of the ship began to sink. The water put out the flames with a hiss and a cloud of steam as it disappeared beneath the dark water.