Breaker
07-05-11, 11:32 PM
Typhoon winds thrashed the ocean to its floor. The gale churned up sand and muck, tore sea plants out by the roots, and whipped the water to a steaming foam. A skiff with a broken mast bucked as it crested rolling wave, pitching violently to starboard. The lone passenger had lashed himself to the mast and both side rails, and threw himself forcefully to port. Salt water stung his eyes and sinuses, blinded him and swelled, seeking to drown him. The man coughed and choked and laughed out loud as his lightweight vessel righted itself, keel slap muted by the wind's roar. The skiff was of sturdy design and crafted from the wood of yew trees. Like its passenger, the tiny ship seemed malleable enough to withstand everything the storm offered.
The little ship's prow dipped briefly beneath the surface as it caught in a fast southerly current, which swept it with such force the craft spun across the surface like a flat pebble skimming a pond. The man laughed loud enough to hear himself over the wind as lightning splintered the roiling sky. It illuminated the pale scars painting his shirtless form, ridged muscles bristling beneath tanned skin. Saline soaked his dark pants and short cropped hair, pasting the light brown strands to his skull, making them as dark as the night. Moving catlike on all fours, he scrambled to the starboard railing and rolled rolled over top, a second flash of electricity showing the lone Y-shaped scar on his face. Then the ocean swallowed him and for a moment, his world was still and silent.
The ropes dug into his waist, the skiff rocking on the surface, striving to pull him upwards. The man kicked with both legs together, cutting the water like a dolphin, powering himself downwards and westerly. Away from land - the port town of Gisela - and towards the current that had swatted him like a fly. His hazel eyes slitted open despite the storm of silt, pearly teeth showing through an expression of rapture. The current led south, into the eye of the storm. And into the heart of the Sea. The man felt no fatigue from his incredible sustained effort, only an exhilaration that coursed like lightning in his veins. The very ocean quaked from a heavenly thunderclap.
Yes... he could taste her in the water.
The little ship's prow dipped briefly beneath the surface as it caught in a fast southerly current, which swept it with such force the craft spun across the surface like a flat pebble skimming a pond. The man laughed loud enough to hear himself over the wind as lightning splintered the roiling sky. It illuminated the pale scars painting his shirtless form, ridged muscles bristling beneath tanned skin. Saline soaked his dark pants and short cropped hair, pasting the light brown strands to his skull, making them as dark as the night. Moving catlike on all fours, he scrambled to the starboard railing and rolled rolled over top, a second flash of electricity showing the lone Y-shaped scar on his face. Then the ocean swallowed him and for a moment, his world was still and silent.
The ropes dug into his waist, the skiff rocking on the surface, striving to pull him upwards. The man kicked with both legs together, cutting the water like a dolphin, powering himself downwards and westerly. Away from land - the port town of Gisela - and towards the current that had swatted him like a fly. His hazel eyes slitted open despite the storm of silt, pearly teeth showing through an expression of rapture. The current led south, into the eye of the storm. And into the heart of the Sea. The man felt no fatigue from his incredible sustained effort, only an exhilaration that coursed like lightning in his veins. The very ocean quaked from a heavenly thunderclap.
Yes... he could taste her in the water.