Behind our foes, the rear in full view, feel our pale wrath as we unleash the battering ram spitting Pale Flame, crash into them, breach their skin and the pale fire tongues ripping the floating boat's rear and torn to pieces so be the purity of the Pale Flame. Their boat, chariot whatever they call it does not matter because once the ram breaks into its glistening amber skin it will become like a bone shattering from a pin, their stern splinters, the grandeur of their golden and amber, decorated with sunstone chariot will look like when a hunter skins a dog...they die in the Pale Burn, or they fall into The Golden flickering sea. Unlike with Gods, Blessed and Godly Beasts, no one knows what truly happens when the low fall in, yet it differs from when you crash into the sky of gold above which just spits you back up and out of the golden sea. They say you fall anywhere others you die and torn to ribbons, I had thought for long spells in this endless place of the daystar coloured sea with booming echoes of our war what would happen to me, if I fell in, would I be free?
The Boat is shaking! How? I see, we have been caught in a snare of those Soaring Gods, their snares float, and we could not see due to how close they rushed us. I can see so many boats from afar now battling in the Golden Sea, other Pale Boats shredded by the Silver Whips, other Golden Chariots broken with Pale Thunder Stone and Pale Flame. The song of life sinking in screams, gold and pale interlocked with brutal battle on the decks that looks like meat fought over by a fierce pack of animals, and the Blessed One is warring afar, so many boats have sunk for all, now we are stuck in this whirlpool of carnage. This must be more than a raid, this is a battle and on my last tour of duty, how cruel can life be. Now I must focus on my men and roar the orders for the unwanted warring.
"PREPARE TO BE BOARDED"
I hope with that order it was heard, I did my best to roar it over the busy noise of the war and golden waves, swear in battle the calm golden sea becomes tendrils dragging and speak, I hope that my people can hear and not be caught unaware for I see many enemy ships, only a matter of time before one comes rushing to me like a wild mare, my, how long has it been since I heard the neighing of horses and the clattering of their hooves in the lower and landed worlds.
I hope we are lost as a target in this storm of war, I hoped to avoid the savage deck fighting, spare very little that close butchering, I am prepared, are my sailors? Doubt must go from my orders, or it will be over for us all, we must be clawed.
"WHEN THEY COME, DO NOT FALTER!"
"SHARE YOUR PRAYER FOR THE PALE PALACE BY BRINGING THE SOARING CLOUDS DESPAIR"
My, My Sailors be ready for what may come, in this unease of pause as the brutal war echoes around, I am old but not weak, I have not lived this long to die in this golden air near the end of my tour, naked and bare, these soaring clouds and heaven's hounds do not know the true fear of deadly brawl of seasoned war, they will crawl for they now be on my homely shore. Stable is my footing from tossing winds, their chariots of gold will crash unto us, I see the Golden Axes and Pale Lances battle all around, I am ready, we are ready though I still hope we be ignored, what is that sound?
I hear a godly beast roar, the roar of a slain godly beast, the blessed one must have slain it, many times have I heard that death roar, you can not ever forget it - sounds like a mountain torn and split. My sailors look emboldened now, we are ready for the rushing, fast, with their golden axes the servants of the soaring gods. We are ready for these clashes, come and come, still no boats around us? We have fought countless times, in different tour's and routes and unleashed the gore of war too many times, this was supposed to be a peaceful route to retire in from our tiring duty, has our luck ran out?
Stay focused. Ready, ready, waiting, waiting-waiting to cut them down. We have fought, breaking bones, blood and spit, bled and sweat and so many slanted fights we have we stood upright, strange I still see none of our allies near?
What is that sound? I have never heard that before? It sounds as if two giants of metal have crashed, a mountain falling down? What is that soaring at us like a bird? It will crash into us when it drops like a meteor.
"BRACE YOURSELVES, STEADY YOUR FEET ALL OF YOU!"
What a sound and force, it breached our upper deck, so much dust and sound roaring all around. What? What is this? Is that the Blessed? What? The Blessed One is in pieces and at death's door?! What superior thing comes to do such things to a Blessed One?
What is this surge of heat in the dust? Some shadow has descended from above, yet it lands soft as a leaf, what is before me with eyes of orange flame bright and blinding as two stars?
Is that skin? What is with the skin? Is it made of iron marbles or scale? Not a single whisper, breath, roar or word or battle cry? What is this? What is this newborn executor standing before me?
YOU ARE READING
On the Golden Sea
Short StoryA dimension, a realm, a place or territory exists beyond time and space, it is the only means to travel across the stars and creation, guarded with forts and fleets and never ending day, this is the place of battle low and the high above.
