Sealed In Darkness

8. On The Tides Of Colchis

Colchis, Zor Empire. As/A: 3084.

Milen Geyr

Amelia remembered kneeling helplessly beside the ship railing, her face aiming for the ocean, and her intestinal struggling to pour forth. She had let out several dozens of vomits in just barely eight hours, so much so that nothing was left in her to force out anymore. And in another three hours, she wasn't only struggling to keep it down, she was battling the weather to keep herself from funneling with the wind's torrents.

The wind was unkind, and so were the waters icy and crude. Their jests and merriment, chugging bear and snide, had ended upon the first strong blow of chills that invaded the ship, and within seconds, it ran off. The keen Geoff understood this genus of wind, and immediately began to shout out commands. Heeding, they had all girded their post, and had ropes binding themselves to any grounded surface they had found.

"Preparations for what is ahead, can never be enough..." As though clairvoyant, Geoff thought as his gaze was lost to the open distance of the sea. "Nobody can be ready for this!" He formed a fist and kissed it, praying deeply they at least survive it and luckily wash up ashore.

Then it came, the wind. It first offered a fistful punch that shook the ship: a slight brush-up in preparation for another pounce.

"Brace yourselves!" Geoff screamed as he watched he wind drive in rage at them. A knee jab, a shoulder dive, and head butt, were a trolley of hits the wind served as it dragged in the ocean as it accomplice.

An attack of wind and water ensued upon the bordering water of Colchis.

Nothing could ease the rocking ship dancing between the bashing waves of the open blue, reeling side to side, drowning their screams and curses in the thunderclaps that rampaged and fought the night sky, as piercing silver lightening struggled for dominance and peace amidst the clouds.

Furious jousting winds tossed about rolling barrels, flipping unanchored men into the air amidst ignoring their firm arms hugging the fixed wooden poles and railings of the ship: they clung to the ship likes kites driven by the wind.

"Just with the snap of a finger, it could get even worse." Hustenut's chin rose to the sky alongside his rampaging mind. "They're just playing around with us... The worse is not too far behind." He tightened his arms and legs wrapped around the midget size helm he had once struggled with: his arms hugging the tilting wheel, and his legs wrapped about the pole the wheel had fused to.

"Run!" Someone screamed.

Within the sights of fear, and stomachs full of despair, another misfortune struck. An angered cobalt lightning decided to grace them with a bolt, striking the crows nest, supporting it with a gluttonous amber flare that stood atop the ship in glory, eating into every part of the mounted pole. Panic birthed eager men, who ran about to end their unsurmountable predicament. It didn't take long before the flames found its way down and over the heavily soaked twine, dancing to its solemn woven twists, aiming for the main mast.

"Find something to put out the fire!" Another called out.

Geoff scoffed and watched his crew and Milen rush buckets of water that jetted at the flames. The reigning salt waters were as useless as they were in their current state. Noticing their own futility, they could only watch the greedy fire carry on it's task.

"Amelia," Milen Shouted. "can you do something about the fire?" Milen's shouts seemed caved by the raging thunderstorm, but maintaining a close proximity to his partner had him an advantage.