Prologue: The Little Bard Nona

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Prologue

The boat rocked, more than was normal for the calm shores of Port Maradriss, it shook Nona out of a sleepy haze set on by hours of fishing. Nona's head snapped round, searching the sea that stretched out in front of her, usually filled with jumping fish, now snapped round in heavy waves. The water beneath her rumbled, until a thick, slimy limb extend from the ocean below, reaching higher into the crystal blue sky. It's purple skin slick with grime and dirt. Nona's breath caught, no Soulless came this far south, save for the stupid ones that were easy to trick. She thought it best to paddle back to shore, forgetting the fish for dinner, until the shrill voice of a child cut through the humid air. "Help!" A child, the boy of the baker down the street to Nona's cottage, always going where he shouldn't, climbing too high, swimming out too far. Now Philip had got himself tangled in the gross limb of a Soulless, like the kind knights and adventures found up north, the kind of people Nona wrote songs about.

The tip of the creature's limb wrapped around Philip's nearly crushing him as he screamed for help again. Strange warts stuck to one side, expanding and contracting like breathing limbs. Nona froze in her fishing boat. Philip's mother was on the shore, screaming for dear life as the monstrous limb whipped Philip around. "My boy!" Nona threw aside her net, and stood, struggling against the boat as the waves climbed, her fellow fishermen swimming to shore. No one would do more than look on in horror, Philip's father had dies years ago, and no abled bodied men lived in Port Maradriss, only ones close to the grave. Knowing this, Nona slammed into the clear water, carrying her spear, the wetness setting her on edge, and the humid air making her sick. The slick limb whipped around furiously, as though taunting the people at shore. Nona never sank in the water, she floated like a dream, but panicked against the rising waves. She'd never seen a creature with a limb like this, she'd heard of griffins, dragons, and unicorns, but never seen them. It's bright purple skin was unnatural, wrong, unsettling, like food that had gone off. Short of breath, eyes wide, and close to tears, Nona prodded the end of the limb fighting against the water.

There was no roar from the creature, which she realized must have been beneath her, it dropped Philip with only a frail prod. Nona lost her spear and swam for the drowning Philip. She didn't grip him in a motherly hug, or a friendly embrace, she tugged on his wrist, swimming against cold depths, filtering out the screams of elderly men and women from the shore. Ehvid, an old man, reached his hand out at the end of the dock for Philip as the slick limb crashed into the water, sending every inch of ocean that could be seen up in violent throws. Nona swam faster, the wave growing closer. She threw Philip up onto the frail wooden docks, Ehvid, catching him as he cried. Her hand reached for the edge of the wooden plank at the very end of the dock. She looked back as she pulled her self up, the wave growing larger, she moved faster. The plank snapped, old and rotten, Nona slipped back into the ocean, only a moment's notice to look back, to see Philip was safe. 

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