Garret stood at the bow of his ship, looking out over the vast ocean. The warm, salty breeze ruffled through his sandy blonde hair, pushing his meticulously groomed Quiff out of place. The cold dark blue waters of the Larovethian sea were slowly lightening, and not too far ahead, Garret could make out the turquoise waters that marked them entering the Cealtan sea. After almost two weeks of sailing, they were almost at the continent of Clinmore. Just a few more hours and they would be there.
Garret tightened his grip on the railing in anticipation, his body already humming with excitement for the upcoming battles. Three more kingdoms, that's all that was left until Laroveth had conquered all the continents in the realm. Just three kingdoms.
"Sorry to interrupt yer whale wa-chin General Hawthorne, but its decision makin time." A heavily accented voice called out from behind Garret.
Garret peeled his eyes away from the ocean and looked toward the weathered Captain of the ship. "And what may that be, Captain Kennedy?"
"Gimme a min so I can get ove-ah ya." He grumbled as he shoved past some soldiers before finally coming to a stop beside Garret, needing to crane his neck upwards to meet Garret's eyes.
"Eitha ye keep sailin till ye reach Emerald bay and do ye armada destroyin shite, or ye stop for the day at Monkola islan."
Garret scrunched his face in concentration as he tried to figure out exactly what the Golden Isles sailor had said and also to make the critical decision for the whole armada sailing behind him. "Will we make it to Emerald Bay before the sun sets?"
"As of ight now, ye will, bu sea changes er mind every tree seconds. Best if ye stop for t'day an restock supplies."
Garret sighed, looking out to the horizon, where the faint shape of Clinmore could be made out. He was tired of being on this god's forsaken ship, and it was so much worse now that they were out of the cooler Larovethian climate and into the hot and humid climate of Clinmore. He just wanted to get this done and over with, so he could go home.
Garret glanced back to the other ships in the Armada and then at the soldiers and sailors that mingled on deck, all looking tired and unprepared for battle.
"All right, we will stop for the day, but we leave at first light tomorrow."
"Aye, I'll message the other ships." The Captain grunted, hobbling away, leaving Garret to his own thoughts again.
Garret turned his head back out to the calm ocean, gazing longingly at Clinmore. As his mind wandered again, a faint scent of Volcanic Ash hit him, only to disappear seconds later. Knowing exactly what that meant, Garret groaned in exasperation.
"What the fuck do you want?" He growled quietly, turning to face the cloaked figure beside him.
Is that your way of greeting an old friend? The cloaked figure asked, turning his head to look at Garret, who just scowled at the skeletal figure, taking a small step away, so its ash-grey wings didn't touch him.
It looked like Death had decided to pay him another unwelcome visit. Garret had been avoiding Death his whole life, and ever since the "angel" accidentally appeared in front of Garret ten years ago, it seemed like he was always around. Always taking away the people Garret loved... and hated.
"We are not friends." Garret ground out, glaring at the hooded Skeleton, who was twirling its scythe like it was a dancing partner.
"You are just an inconvenience that won't leave me the fuck alone because I'm the only living thing that can actually see you and speak to you. And you get bored with killing people, so you come and torment me."
YOU ARE READING
The Shadow of Death
FantasyThe ruthless General of the most powerful army in the Realm has landed on the shores of Clinmore, promising that he and his army would conquer the last remaining continent, putting its Kingdoms into a state of panic. In the commotion, Princess Alay...
