Valadel

Chapter XXVIII

Waves of ocean water lapped up on the sides of the jagged rock of Valadel. Dark, puffy clouds moved in, blotting out the golden sun. Ominous sounds of thunder ached in the sky, giving hint to rain. Gusts of winds blew violently, slamming against the old castle walls. Off in the distance, Jorden had grown fainter, as if the island was slowly moving away, further and further. A loud clap was heard from the sky, bringing rain with it. Gusts of wet wind surrounded Miles as he held his hand above his eyes. It was difficult to see in the violent storm. His eyes were squinted, trying to keep rain from entering them. He had kept moving, pacing back and forth across the stone landing so he may stay warm. Waves had grown bigger with each gust of wind. It worried him that a possible rogue wave would pass by and sweep them up, swallowing them back into the sea. He couldn't let his thoughts distract him, however. He had to stay vigilant. Rain dripped from his forehead and down his back, giving him slight shivers. From inside the castle, sounds and shuffles echoed off the walls. The cursed ones worried him. He feared they may attack him from behind as a ship may pass by. He set up a trap, a string of cans behind the castle doors so he may know when they come, but it wouldn't be enough. A boom of thunder made itself heard, sending a streak of lightning crashing against the water. Water jumped from the wave, heated by the bolt of electricity.

"Steady men!" He heard someone yell from quite a ways away. In an excited panic, he jumped to his feet. If his ears deceived him, he would cut them off. From the right side of the castle, a large fishing boat braved the storm that surrounded them.

"Hey!" Miles yelled, "Hey!" He was frantically waving his arms. The seamen showed no sign of noticing his efforts. Miles felt dread the boat wouldn't see him. Quickly, he ran inside the castle, sprinting to the shelter.

"Tytus!!" He yelled as he ran down the halls. He quickly turned the corner to the hall that led to the refuge.

"Tytus!" He yelled again.

The bookcase was lifted from the ground.

"Miles, what is it?!" Said a worried Tytus.

"Get out here, there's a boat!"

"A boat?! Quick, Cristomir, come!" He yelled. The two rangers quickly crawled through the space between the bookcase and floor.

"Come on!" Yelled Miles, motioning them down the hall. The trio sprinted with full might, running through the dark, gloomy corridors. No cursed ones caught wind of their antics, much to the warriors pleasure. They quickly came upon the grand double doors and slipped through. The boat was still there, but just a little further out.

"Over here!"

"This way!"

All three men were jumping and shouting, desperately trying to gain the attention of the sailors who inched further and further away. Tytus, after realizing they wouldn't hear him, tore off his mantle, waving it around as if it were a flag in the breeze. Cristomir did so as well. Their large, red capes flowed in the violent winds. It was to no avail, however, as the ship disappeared behind the waves and heavy rain. The trio had stopped any sort of movement, giving up in a mournful defeat.

"Shit..." Said Tytus.

Miles said nothing and simply returned into the castle.

"Do you think another one will come?" Cristomir asked.

Tytus took moments to answer. "Perhaps. If we're lucky....or if the Scrag doesn't get to us first." Tytus had started pacing, trying to think of another way to escape. A boat had come, and they missed it. How were they supposed to believe another would come. They winds blew hard at him and the rain pelted against him. Thunder clapped in the sky, heralding lightning. He scratched his goatee, combing the water out as he did so.