Amphibia: The Four Torches Lighting the Path to Glory

Chapter One: George of the Strait

CHAPTER ONE

GEORGE OF THE STRAIT

This very night, the night of the debacle with his parents and a brief visit to Thrift Stop, George Burnstead was with his friends when they opened the little golden music box he bought from Thrift Stop as a present for Anne. When she opened it, they were shocked by the bright light that sucked them in with it, and the box came with them too. The light that sucked them all in, but the light in this new world, dropped George facefirst into a gulf of a tiny, distant archipelago, deep and under a dark shadow beneath the inky sky, frogs croaking and crickets chirping in the distance. George climbed out of the water and began looking for his friends but they were nowhere to be found.

After a week of looking alone though, as he thought he shouldn't ask strangers for help, came with no luck. During that time, he lost his shoes and socks, yet still wore his school outfit and capris. With all the rotten luck of searching without asking the locals, he became increasingly anxious, paranoid, and terrified.

In this archipelago called Salamand, inhabited by Salamanders, these lands were seemingly reminiscent of specific Earth locations like Hawaii, except it was completely independent but was a port archipelago and got many things imported from other parts of this peculiar planet, with many little buildings made of wood in remote places, many forests, tall grasses, and dark green hills.

Although he was worried about his friends, losing them only this moment he ended up here, he knew he shouldn't get caught. Otherwise, before he knew it, he would be captured, or worse, killed. Fortunately, back on Earth, taking his afternoon walks throughout the neighborhood kept him going because nobody tried ganging up on him back home except his parents, that must mean nobody would dare try that here because he supposed no one in this world had seen humans.

He had been wandering through the woods and twisting rivers of these islands, foraging for mushrooms and berries to stay nourished, making sure they weren't poison, and praying that the Salamanders that inhabited this place wouldn't see him in the tall grass on their hunting trips. He couldn't get cell reception anywhere on his phone and had no one to call for help.

This very night, he had been eating a few berries he picked and stashed in his pockets. At this moment, it was nearly midnight, so he thought that meant he could finally catch a break from trying to find another hiding place. Without warning, however, he heard the sound of a foghorn in the distance as he nibbled his berries, and prayed that the Salamanders in their overwater bungalows were still fast asleep. George crept through the tall grass, making for a strait nearby, and further out into the water, what looked like a ship sailing downstream met his eye.

At this sight, his heart gave a leap. He remembered giving a thought about joining the United States Navy back on Earth and supposed that whoever on board could be this world's equivalent to that, so without hesitation or thought for his own safety, he took off his jacket and shirt, leaving him only in his capris, rose from the grass, silently waded into the water, and began to swim in the direction the ship was heading, pausing now and then to come up for air and make sure he was keeping up.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached the ship and came up for air, looking for something on the wooden hull to climb up with, and grabbed on, wondering how ships this well made and fit so tightly like this were able to float without sinking, stopping now and then to listen, and halfway up, heard shouts from above, and stopped, hoping they wouldn't see him climbing up, but just as he finally reached the deck, climbed over the railing, and collapsed, catching his breath, the voices from the deck came back again.

"A stowaway!" shouted one of the sailors on the ship, who stood before George with several salamanders of numerous colors, male and female, young and old, donned in clothes a Navy sea person or what a pirate might wear, running up towards him, armed with short spears, swords, and daggers, and they vigorously pointed them at him. George gasped suddenly, his chest still heaving from all that swimming, "Wait!" he cried, stretching an arm out in defense and clutching the railing behind for support with his other hand. "Please, wait! I'm not what you'd think I am!" He did not believe that they would believe his words. "You lie! You climbed up to eat us!" shouted one of the salamanders, brandishing his dagger haphazardly. "Do I look like the kind of person who would eat a frog?!" George retorted, an affronted look visible on his face. "I couldn't do that, the same way you couldn't eat a human like me!" "You lie!" snapped the orange salamander, still clutching his dagger.