The waves crashed violently as the storm raged above. The rain was so thick and falling so fast that you could naught see a thing in front of you. In the rampant storm there was a spluttering cry coming from the waves. The pathetic cries could barely be heard above the sounds of the furious winds and rain. The wailing cries increased, not as a cry for mercy nor for the gods to interfere, but a constant mournful sound as if grieving.

The sound was in fact coming from a sorry looking bundle of cloth and flesh clinging to a piece of wreckage that looked as if it had come from a ship. Eventually the storm abated, leaving the figure clinging to life on the wreckage. The figure was in fact a boy looking about the age of 16. This boy’s name was Tiran and was in fact wailing because of his sister, claimed by the sea. This is where his story begins…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

‘Not drowning is the priority’, Tiran thought to himself, ‘well maybe the priority, drowning couldn’t be too bad right now.’

The storm had only lasted for a few hours but it was enough to have sunk the ship he was on called the Adrian. It hurt to talk; his throat was so dry, even swallowing was hard. Not that there was much to swallow. After being adrift for more than two days with the sun beating down almost constantly, Tiran was as dry as a withered plant. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to not drown. Why did a storm have to come in the middle of summer? Storms never came in middle of summer. Apparently this storm hadn’t gotten the memo. His sister didn’t drown with the rest of the ship, no he knew that. He had seen her being impaled by a large piece of splintered wood that had flown off of the ship’s rail. He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye as he was swept by a large wave into the water. One could say that he was lucky to find a large piece of the ship’s hull to cling to as the storm ran its course. He just wished that there had been no ship’s hull so he wouldn’t have to be contemplating surviving or dying now; he’d just be dead.

He missed her so much. Without his sister he didn’t even know if he could survive. His home had been a rather cruel one. Although his family was wealthy, very wealthy in fact, it had not been kind. Without his sister it would have been hell. He could remember all the times he had just wanted to fall in a deep dark hole and die his sister would be there to help him stay sane. Being the only son of a king meant that he would have to inherit so his father was always very hard on him. His sister should have been the one to inherit; she was so much more knowledgeable in running a kingdom. Why should he the incompetent younger child be a poor stand-in. He didn’t want the peasants that worked the fields suffer for his incompetence, although it would probably stand to be better than his father’s ruthless rule. It was surprising that he turned out the way he did with the way his father was. Well not so surprising, just another thing to thank his sister for.
He and his sister had been on a trip to see a ruler in the neighboring country of Hilarng. It was across the sea and a ship was the only way to get there. It was only a three-day trip so everyone thought it would be smooth sailing. As a token of good will his father had demanded his sister to stay as a ‘guest’ in the ruler’s castle. More like marriage token. Tiran knew that he was going to take his beloved sister to be some trophy wife! It was despicable making an intelligent mind like hers go to waste on such a disgusting piece of flesh the ruler was. Tiran was trying to come up with a plan to help her escape but then the storm came and now he just wished that she was alive.

‘I’ve made my decision. I can’t live without her, I can’t go back,’ Tiran thought, ‘I don’t have any water so I’m going to die anyway, mine as well do it quickly.’

Tiran rolled off of his life saving piece of hull and into the water. After not drinking for two days he had no energy at all so drowning was going to be easy. The water felt pleasant against his sunburned skin and as he slowly began to sink through the deep depths of the ocean.

‘It’s…It’s, beautiful sister would of loved this,’ he thought as he looked around the ocean with wonderment in his eyes.

The salt stung his eyes but he was going to be gone soon anyway and the sight of what was underneath the water was so wonderful that he kept his eyes wide open. There were fish of all sorts of colors and beautifully shaped and colored coral far beneath his feet. As he began to loose coherency as the little oxygen he had was frantically used by his body to keep him alive longer a shape passed before his eyes. It was as big as him and as he began to fall into the sleep of forever he had one last thought floating through his head, ‘it’s so pretty…’

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

‘My head hurts,’ thought Tiran, his head was throbbing in the worst way possible, ‘is being dead supposed to feel this horrible.’

Sand was scratching his sunburned skin and there was no spit for him to swallow. His throat was even drier than before if that was possible. It was hard to open his eyes, it was like they were glued shut from all the dried salt encrusting them. Speaking of encrusting, his whole body was covered in salt and it felt absolutely awful. It was hard to pay attention to all of that though because of the nail being hammered consistently into his head. By this time Tiran had realized that he must not be dead, because being dead couldn’t be as bad as this, which meant that he was alive and in pain.

Tiran raised his arms to wipe away the salt but his arms felt as heavy as lead. He managed to raise his arms halfway but they fell down almost immediately because his muscles were like wet noodles. Something wet and pleasant was wiped across his face freeing his eyes from their crusty prison. The first thought in his mind as he opened his eyes was, ‘what the heck was that!’

Sitting next to him was one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. She had the loveliest dark blue hair he had ever seen. In fact it was probably the only blue hair he had seen. Most of the girls in his father’s kingdom had brown, purple, yellow, red or black hair, but never blue. It was the kind of blue that the sea on a moonlight full night had. It was otherworldly. The word fey came to his mind. It was not just the girl’s hair, her whole person was fey. Her skin was as white as porcelain and as smooth as newly blown glass. The green of her eyes reminded him of the green leaves of trees in spring. She swiped the wet thing over his face again and he realized that it was a wet rag torn from his shirt. He then realized that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.