The Princess and the Blood of Eternity

Chapter 5: The Island of Two Mounds

From a distance, the island of Two Mounds was seen jutting from the ocean, its dense foliage packed like a bouquet of trees tied and bursting at the seams. The eastern side, marked by wind and erosion, had a rocky cliff nearly as tall as their ship's mast, and the west showed a thin strip of beach encircling the landscape like the sharpened edge of a blade that ended at the start of the ocean.

Cleo identified the outline of a small village situated directly in front of them on the far side of the island's beach and harbor. The weak-crescent shaped coastline came equipped with a sizable wooden dock that extended a fair bit off the coast to make use of the natural drop off and deep water.

As they got closer, he counted nine buildings, a village—constructed in a single line. It was an island jungle lining the rear of the village, and a beach and ocean hugging the front. Thatch roofing collected from local foliage, plain wooden walls, and open glassless windows equipped with thick storm shutters. Quaint simple structures, though the raw look of new wood made it clear the construction must've happened rather recently.

Pretty standard for small-island living, but this close to Mont Qerath—Cleo would have assumed the small plot of land to be overrun with traders, travelers, and every kind of sailor imaginable. The island was north of the major trade route, but surely it'd be convenient for resupply. Secrecy spoke of other issues. The island had plenty of wood in that jungle, lending credence to the idea that the island harvested timber, but the theme of the infrastructure was wrong. Cleo noticed no sawmills, no transportation lines or roads into the heart of the island to harvest timber. Instead, sitting before them was a resort town—not a work colony.

Cleo didn't like the look of it, but it might be best to reserve judgment until after they docked and met the locals.

Assumptions aside, more and more, he was thinking the village might be abandoned. This time of day, the narrow grey brick chimneys would normally emanate smoke from the people and their families preparing supper. Seeing them sit idle, smokeless, and unutilized—the detail did not bode well for the mission of obtaining supplies. Unless the island was home to a race of monsters who didn't have to eat. A ridiculous idea, one that produced a round of nervous laughter from Cleo.

More than a few of those homes had their storm shutters locked tight. Facing the sun, the inside would have to be as hot as an oven. Strewn trash, out-of-control weeds, choke vine—the village was in a state of disarray and neglect.

Cleo had seen his fair share of the frontier. The types that called those islands home were always in a rush, harvesting, cleaning, preparing meals, or mending tools or clothing. It was that or succumb to the harsh elements of living along the frontier. Something was off with the island of Two Mounds.

A quiet settled amongst the crew and passengers as they came to their own conclusions regarding the abnormality of the island and its village. The excitement from earlier had gone out like a candle dropped over the side of the boat.

Cleo couldn't blame them. The mystery surrounding the island's very existence had bred hesitation, and now, presented with an unfortunate truth regarding an empty village, most of them had resigned to not discovering an easy fix for their precarious situation. They needed water. Nothing else mattered.

It was surreal. Personally, Cleo wished he could blame his problems on dehydration. Unfortunately, it was not that simple. The unusual weather, a pirate attack, and the discovery of the princess had spun his world on its head.

Quinn maintained her post in the crow's nest, calling out sandbars and any other obstacles in their path. The ocean floor appeared to be mostly white sand with patches of dark green seagrass tossed in. They still had to be weary of the stray rock or boulder, anything that could damage the hull in shallow water. Damage to the hull would be a disaster. If they had to beach or careen their boat to mend the hull, they could be stuck on the island for weeks.