Ocean Song

Ocean Song (Chapter 1)

          Caspian awoke to the overwhelming feeling of icy pain crawling up his leg. In his dreams, he was leaping from peak to peak along the Silverveil mountain range. For that brief moment, he had forgotten about the accident. Maybe his dreams were trying to help him recover from the trauma of his crushed leg? He felt they only gave him false hope, and that was something he couldn't tolerate. Caspian was a painfully average human male. His unkempt dark hair, permanent stubble, and tired eyes gave the unmistakable impression of a life peppered by poor decisions, and no small amount of regret. It had been a day since the falling crate had shattered its contents against his body. All things considered, he felt lucky to have gotten out of the incident with only a fractured tibia. With a few more months, and a lot of practice, he should be walking again.

          While he enjoyed the time away from his physically exhausting job of unloading ships at the Bay of Gulls, his new day to day was dreadfully droll. What he wouldn't do for just one copy of The Voyage of Aelmar, or The Creeper's Harvest. He spent his days lying on an uncomfortably firm cot in an infirmary built alongside the Southern Cathedral of Rione's Grace. How anyone could worship a god who symbolized creation, AND destruction, was beyond Caspian's ability to grasp. His days were filled with sitting up and moving the parts of his body that still worked so that they wouldn't grow stale and shrivel. Meanwhile, the blank white walls, and the wails his ailing neighbors, left him longing for a change of scenery. The neighbor to his left kept reciting the same prayer, perhaps with the idea that the pain would be greater if he stopped to think for even a second. Meanwhile the neighbor to his right was overly chatty, and Caspian had to endure numerous mind-numbing stories. He was convinced that the man was sent as part of an experiment designed to see if willpower could help recovery time; Caspian was ready to start walking away within the first hour. The only reprieve bestowed upon him was when the nurse would come by to check on him every once in a while. He would ask about the outside world and she would tell him it was still an awful, dangerous place. Everything around him felt like a warm blanket whose function was to smother any lingering hope, or spark of human spirit. Even the coastal breeze, which used to give him so much satisfaction, seemed moist and rancid in this dungeon. He was on the cusp of crawling out, when she first made her appearance.

          Seraphina was a fiery balm to the icy festering wound that had been Caspian's infirmary experience. She was a dwarf, and shorter than Caspian by a couple feet, but her presence felt immense. Her fiery red hair was streaked with gray, and her features resembled delicately carved jasper. Dwarves were known for their stubbornness and fierce temperament. While part of this remained true with Seraphina, she also exuded a sense of compassion and grace, which made her exceedingly likable. From the day she was assigned to his ward, Caspian couldn't get enough of her; she felt like the first draught of water to a man dying of thirst. It was on her second visit that he noticed she was carrying a book with her.

          "Please tell me that's not a medical dictionary," Caspian rasped as he sat up. "This?" Seraphina asked, taking the book out of her canvas bag. His eyes glimmered as he read the title, Osric and Melriel. It was an epic adventure story about an elf's quest to gain the right to marry her love, a human male. The catch was that the father of her lover, the King of Siren's Call, would only grant the privilege to someone who could retrieve a specific magical item from a dark wizard's crystal palace. "It's my favorite romance so far!" Seraphina exclaimed. "It really has a bit of everything in it." Caspian tried to dampen the sound of his eagerness, "I hate to be a bother, but is there any chance I can borrow that from you? The boredom here is making me want to chew my own leg off and escape like a trapped animal." Seraphina gave him a hard glare, "Are you saying that this infirmary doesn't meet your standards? By all means, hobble over to the nearest inn and see if the tavern keep will take you for your daily exercise, or change your chamber pot." Caspian blanched with embarrassment, "forget it, I appreciate your help as it is." A smile crept onto Seraphina's face, "of course I'm joking you oaf. I've got plenty to read at home, you can borrow it. Besides, I know where you sleep." A relieved chuckle escaped Caspian's throat, "I guess I sort of fell into that one. Bless you, sweet, benevolent, celestial spirit! You've saved me from another dreadful telling of how he forgot to bring meat to his family's potluck," Caspian chided, leaning his head to the man sleeping on the cot next to him. "Leave Mr. Dalton alone. He's kinder than you, and can't help the fact that he has no storytelling ability. Anyway, I'm excited to hear what you think of the book. Maybe this can be the start of our own little book club, just don't go dying on me before you're able to give me your verdict."

          Caspian had trouble looking her in the eyes. He felt the warmth of a blush flooding his pale cheeks, and felt that if she noticed, she would find him immature. He looked up at her with a timid smile and said, "thank you Seraphina, you have no idea how much this kindness means to me." She gave him a full smile that made his heart race. "It really is my pleasure Caspian, and you can call me Sera for short, if you'd like." Stumbling on a joke he said, "and you can call me... Caspian. There really is no way to shorten it." He bit his lip with the shame of his excruciating failure to find something funny to say. "Nice try," she said slowly smiling, "but I'll bet Mr. Dalton could have come up with something better than that. Goodbye Caspian." As she walked away, Caspian continued to ruminate on his misstep. Failing to come up with a better punchline, he opened the book. "Better luck next time, you damned oaf," he thought as he realized that the coastal breeze, finally, smelled crisp and refreshing again.