Bloodtide

Prologue

"Ella dear, stay careful near the shore!" my father shouted as I laughed, running along the beach with my maid. The golden sand squished between my toes, and the salty breeze tangled my hair. I glanced back at him, his figure growing smaller as I sprinted further. My maid, Annabel, kept a watchful eye on me, her skirts swishing as she jogged to keep up.

The waves crashed playfully against the shore, and I could hear the distant call of seagulls. It was a perfect summer day, with the sun high in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. The ocean sparkled like a sea of diamonds, inviting and mesmerizing. As we neared the water's edge, I paused not daring to touch it. Father always warned me to never come in contact with the sea water no matter what, I never understood why but blindly followed his instructions.

"Ella, wait up!" Annabel called, slightly out of breath. She finally reached me, her cheeks flushed from the exertion. "Your father will worry if you go too far."

I smiled mischievously, "Just a little further, Annabel. Let's see if we can find some seashells."

Reluctantly, she agreed, and together we combed the shoreline, searching for treasures the sea had left behind. Each wave brought with it new possibilities, and we giggled as we compared our finds. The world felt boundless, full of adventure and joy, as we explored the beach that seemed to stretch on forever.

We wandered along the beach, our collection of seashells growing with each step. I found a particularly beautiful one, a delicate spiral of pink and white. "Look at this, Annabel! Isn't it lovely?"

She nodded, smiling. "It's perfect, Ella. You have a good eye for these things."

As we continued our exploration, we stumbled upon a tide pool nestled between some rocks. "Oh, look! There's a starfish!" I exclaimed, pointing excitedly. We crouched down to get a better view, watching as small crabs scuttled around and tiny fish darted to and fro.

The day wore on, and the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. "We should head back," Annabel said gently. "Your father will be wondering where we've gone."

Reluctantly, I agreed, and we started our walk back. My eyes caught sight of something in the distance, almost like a body in the water that was washed up.

"Annabel, I think there is a man over there!" I shouted, rushing over as she quickly ran after me.

The closer I got to the shore, the more I realized it was a body—a young boy. "Go get help," I instructed as she nodded, running to inform my father.

I used all my strength to pull the boy away from the water and onto dry land. He had seaweed and all types of debris hooked around him and seemed unconscious.

Panic struck me as I felt for a pulse and heard nothing. Desperation fueled my actions as I recalled the basic first aid lessons I had learned. Pressing my hands against his chest, I began to administer chest compressions, counting under my breath, trying to stay calm.

"Please, please wake up," I whispered, glancing towards the house, hoping to see my father and Annabel returning with help.

After what felt like an eternity, I paused to check for a pulse again. Still nothing. Determined not to give up, I continued with the compressions, tears streaming down my face. Suddenly, the boy's body jerked, and he coughed, water sputtering from his mouth.

Relief washed over me as his eyes fluttered open. He looked disoriented and scared. "It's okay," I said soothingly, "You're safe now."

Just then, my father and Annabel arrived with a couple of other men from the village. They quickly assessed the situation, lifting the boy carefully and carrying him toward the house. My father placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You did well, Ella. You saved his life."

I watched as they carried the boy away, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows on the sand, I couldn't shake the image of the boy's lifeless body from my mind. The day's adventures had taken a sudden, serious turn, reminding me of the fragility of life.

That night, as I lay in bed, I thought about the boy and what had happened. I hoped he would recover fully and that we might learn more about how he ended up in the water. The beach, with all its beauty and wonder, had revealed a more dangerous side, and I knew I would never see it quite the same way again.

My door opened as my father walked in and sat beside me. "Is the boy alright?" I questioned, and he nodded.

"He's safe, thanks to you," he smiled, running his hand over my shoulder.

"But I don't think we should visit the beach anymore," he began.

"What? Father, why?" I shouted, confused and angry.

"It's too complicated for your young mind, but when you're older, you'll understand. Our world isn't safe... the sea isn't safe," he instructed.

"But, Father, I love the beach! It's where I feel the happiest and the most free," I pleaded, tears welling up in my eyes.

"I know, Ella," he said softly, his expression pained. "But sometimes we have to make difficult decisions to protect the ones we love. There are dangers out there that you can't yet comprehend."

"But—" I began.

"Get some rest, Ella," he cut me off, standing up and leaving the room.