Strings of Fate

Storms a' Brewing

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STRINGS OF FATE
Part V: Storms a' Brewing

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The boat rocked with the waves. Walls of seawater crashed into his small vessel, taller than a house. Steven clung to the steering wheel as best he could. Lighting flashed overhead, lighting up the dark cloudy sky with bolts of blinding electricity, the earth-shaking thunder not sparing a second to sound. The storm trapped him in his little sailboat. His steering was fruitless, his sails ruined. He was a castaway, at the mercy of the storm.

The storm raged overhead, flashing white every other second as explosions of thunder followed. It hurt his ears. He couldn't even think. There was that much noise. The giant waves tossed him side to side on his little boat, knocking him off balance and nearly tossing him overboard. Water washed over the sides and into his vessel, more and more, as the vicious sea slowly swallowed him.

Everyone knew the ocean took no survivors.

Steven could only pray as he clung hopelessly to the useless steering wheel with dear life. He was hopeless. It was only a matter of time before the sea claimed both his boat and his life. He could only fight for as long as possible, but even that flicker of a flame, that dream of survival, was growing dim. Snuffed by the ocean spray across his back.

He wouldn't be able to hang on forever.

He looked for guidance, any other signs of life. The teal string pointed forwards into the storm. Pulling him, yanking him, begging to know if he was there. And he was.

Desperately, he relaxed his death grip on the wheel and lurched forward with one hand, grabbing at the teal string. Keeping his body close to the wheel to keep him steady.

He jerked the teal string. Calling out with a voiceless cry. Drowned out by the roar of the world. He began tugging out a message. Begging for help.

Tug. Tug. Tug.

Snap!

Steve watched as the teal string frayed and unwound. Fading away from his fingertips.

Gone.

He couldn't feel it anymore.

Replaced, on all fingers, with red.

Pointing straight down.

He snapped his hand back onto the steering wheel as the ship jolted to the side. Ignoring the strings for now, he had to hold on. He couldn't tell if he was crying, or it was just the rain. Any exposed skin froze and then burned as the needle sharp rain pelted his body.

More waves slammed into his boat, rocking it almost to the tipping point. Steven cried out in fear. Rushes of water swallowed his voice. The rain, the droplets of seawater, felt like ice-cold needles slamming into him repeatedly. The salt stung his eyes. Hopeless! Hopeless he was.

A rumble came from below. Different from the waves. A dark mass appeared beneath the surface but did not break it. With it drew a colossal wave. Steve watched in terror as its solid wall of rushing water charged at his sailboat and its foaming spray of a lip towered overhead.

The wave slammed down into the sailboat, capsizing it, and flinging Steven overboard. It was hopeless. Utterly fucking hopeless. Steven clawed his way to the surface, wave after wave.

He felt himself slowly succumbing to the icy water. Each break in the rip sucked him deeper and deeper.

Lightning flashed overhead, growing stronger and stronger, a charge building. The massive entity opened its eyes with a streak of lighting. Two massive orbs of white. Illumination of such a magical wonder pierced through the haze. Two eyes of the entity snapped to the struggling miner. The entity's sole focus was on him. Those eyes hypnotized him, slowing his struggles. The entity towering over him.