The Isle of the Blessed

Chapter 2: Symphony

I awoke to a symphony. Percussion in the crystal waves clapping against a shore of alabaster sand. Harmony in a hundred fruit colored birds caroling melodies. Cellos and violas in the low hum of insects. The orchestral melody quivered in the balmy air, vibrating throughout my aching bones, but the hymn soothed me into delirious state. I rose to my feet and scanned the beach for my crew mates, but they were nowhere to be found. I was afraid. I was alone. I trudged through the fine sand, stumbling over my feet as the world around me spun and morphed with each step I took.

My feet cantered over fragments of sodden wood, left over from the misplaced wreck of the StellaLuna. As I continued to prowl the waterfront, nothing wooden planks studded with barnacles were to be seen. I was losing hope. The ultramarine waters lured me in, like a dazed moth to the flame of a candle. I waded into the temperate sea, and bathed my sun baked skin. Dousing myself in quenching handfuls, stinging wounds washed away from my body, leaving prickling warm patches in the place of my injuries.

Refreshed, I turned to the wall of lanky trees sprouting from the edge of the sand. In the distance lay an opalescent range of mountains shrouded by a glittering fog. I was blinded by the sun reflecting off of what seemed to be liquid gold dripping like lava from each of the summits. My breath cut short in my chest as I grasped where I was. Mists of glistening dust, medicinal crystal waters, porcelain sands, benumbing melodies of birds and insects, liquid gold pouring from mountains of pearl; I had reached the Isle of the Blessed.