Excerpt: Tides

Tyridal stood at the cliff, gazing down at the tumultuous seas before him. As far as he could see there was ocean, where there had once been land. A month prior the bottom before him was a lush green mountain valley, the small towns Himadel and Ruun nestled in the corners. Farmers would be planting their first crops right now, and Tyridal gazed at the surface, trying to recall where exactly the fields were from this particular vantage point. He remembered these mountains from his childhood. His town was swallowed up earlier, having been farther down the slopes. It doesn’t matter, he thought, I haven’t lived there in years. He looked to his left, to the grayed Cleric, and pointed up. Kneeling, he unfurled his wings and leapt into flight. Wider and higher he circled, until he was well above the top of the mountain. He stopped and waited for the elder Cleric to catch up.

As he waited, he thought back over the past year, how it all started, trying in vain to figure it all out. The seas became unsettled, as they did before a major storm. Normally plentiful waters off the coasts of their lands went barren. Then the ocean acted as though that storm was actually there, though the weather was calm. The water began to rise higher and higher with each tide, and not return to its rightful place. Those along the coasts were soon alarmed, and they fled to the dry inland plains. As the waters threatened the great port city of Amatha, the Royal Clerics attempted to Divine the cause of this unexpected phenomena. Indeed, no prophecy had foretold of this strange occurrence, and most disturbingly, none could determine the reason, or find a possible arcane fix. Tyridal turned again to Nusam and asked the same tired question.