Leviathan

Her fallen tears glistened with starlight as she stumbled across the midnight desert landscape. With heart hammering and stomach churning, she dared not to look back. Escape was her only choice. Escape from this world and all its horror and pain. Shouts and screams from her burning home would forever haunt her restless dreams. Her mother’s last, pleading words echoed through her mind. “They’re here, child. I will fight them for as long as I can. Leave now while you still draw breath! Run! Run for your life!”

The horizon abruptly fell away, swallowed by the luminous ocean. Bounding down towards the yearning waves, the girl almost lost her footing amongst the broken, wind blasted rocks. Tears still falling, she waded into cool, gently lapping water until it consumed her legs, chest, neck, and head. Instead of a watery underworld, fleeting, alien images swam across her vision. The first depicted a monstrous sea serpent, a legendary leviathan pushing her drowned body to shore. Another showed her aboard a swift, sleek ship, sailing the high seas. The last one revealed a huge, golden domed building in an unknown city with a majestic statue of the goddess Denara stood close by. Finally, as her last breath gave out and water filled her lungs, the vivid visions were swamped by a great black wave of unconsciousness.

The goddess intended another fate. The girl awoke to familiar sounds of the whispering wind and rhythmic waves lapping the shoreline. As consciousness seeped back, she felt soft, velvet sand beneath her. Weak sunlight dazzled across salt encrusted eyes. It must be early morning. Her clothes were still half damp from entering the water only hours before. Then, the full force of last night’s tragedy struck. She sobbed and wretched until her body refused either anymore. Despite the raw, relentless weight of grief, one thought kept gnawing away; her mother’s body must laid to rest. Failure to honour this would result in the corpse’s restless spirit torturing living family members for the rest of their lives. Sudden anger surged through her, temporarily dispelling sorrow. “You’ve taken everything from me,” she shrieked, “everything I ever loved!” The girl howled at the waves, skies, and cliffs. For a long while there was no reply.

“Yes we have”, replied a sudden, menacing voice. Two shadows emerged from their rocky hiding places at the base of a cliff and soon loomed over her.

“It’s just business,” replied another coldly. “Nothing personal.” Cruel laughter erupted from them.

“If you’re going to do it, do it quickly.” She gazed out towards the ocean, pretending not to see or hear them. More laughter ensued.

“My dear, you’re gravely mistaken. We need you alive and unspoiled. A pretty flower like you will fetch a handsome reward.”

So, I am to be sold as a slave. Foolish desperation took hold. In vain, the girl attempted to rise and flee, yet her exhausted, sore muscles struggled to respond. The men were on her in seconds like a pair of hungry wolves. One grabbed her wrists in a vice like grip, pinning them behind her back. The other produced some thin, taut rope and quickly bound her wrists. Grudgingly accepting defeat, her captors led their new captured prize along the beach. Blood trickled down the back of her hands as the rope slowly bit into her wrists. Bizarrely, the pain helped the girl to focus on the path ahead. Faint, new strength seeped back into weary bones. If she stumbled or showed any kind of weakness, more harm might come to her. From their rolling gait and vibrant, weather-beaten attire, she guessed her captors were corsairs; hardened sailors used to raiding and plundering. Profiting from slavery was also one of their main business ventures. She belonged to them now, and keeping her mouth shut and head down was essential for survival.

The path led them away from the golden sands, wound its way through broken ground peppered with sparse vegetation, and up through wind blasted cliffs. Finally, it opened out into the once picturesque bay of the village of Erish and its surrounding coastline. For a brief moment, it seemed as if nothing had changed. ThIte many buildings stood as they always had, overlooked by the gleaming temple to Denara on the opposite hillside overlooking the village. Boats in the small harbour swayed upon gentle rolling waves and their fluttering sails bearing family crests fluttered on the morning breeze.

The stench of burning and death swept over them. The girl recoiled slightly in disgust, resulting in the man behind chuckling with delight. The lead corsair tugged harshly at the rope. The girl cried out as fresh needles of pain sliced into her wrists, bringing her sharply back to reality. Gritting her teeth, she continued down a gentle slope, past picturesque, whitewashed dwellings on the edge of the village. No doubt many terrified villagers hid for their lives under creaking floorboards. Apart from the coastal wind whistling through deserted streets and buildings, the once proud village seemed devoid of life.

Then the wailing began. Unmistakable female cries of shattered hearts and unbearable grief. She knew they came from the village square only two streets away. Looking ahead, the girl nearly tripped over the first victim; he lay on his side with a deep sword cut to his stomach with half his guts spilling out on to the floor. She battled with her heaving stomach and somehow won. The boy was the first of many dead lining the streets where they fell, defending their beloved home against ruthless invaders. Many of them in she knew in life after being treated of various ailments by her mother. Now, only lifeless eyes stared skyward as their blood slowly soaked into the thirsty earth and between broken paving stones.

The street opened out in the main market square. It was filled with local women and girls made to sit or crouch as corsairs watched over them. Some paced back and forth in frustration, their patience fraying in the rising morning heat. The female captives either bore glazed faces of complete shock or mourned and cried for their lost sons and husbands. Harsh orders issued from rough throats, and the women were forced to their feet and herded along the small quayside in small groups. They were directed towards the biggest ship in the harbour. It dwarfed the other fishing boats and was the size of a small galleon. Huge, lustrous sails flowed in the breeze, bearing a mixture of black skulls and serpents on a crimson background. Amid a welter of shouts, and cracking whips, the captives were herded onto the huge vessel like frightened livestock via a wide gangplank led onto the prow of the ship. Many more corsairs stood, observing and jeering as their new prisoners came aboard. Most had not seen a woman in many months, and predatory excitement rippled through them. Sensing this, fresh murmurs of fear emanated the assembled women as they expected the worst.

The ship suddenly juddered. Faint at first, but felt by many on the vessel, both prisoners and captives alike. Some dismissed it and carried on with whatever they were doing. The vessel shuddered once more, followed by an unmistakable scraping from beneath. Fear and confusion spread across all faces, whether they be villagers or invading corsairs. Incredulously, an immense serpentine shape rose from the deep next to the corsair ship. A huge reptilian head scanned around the deck with intense, hungry eyes. Those unfortunates nearby were snatched in huge jaws filled with dagger sized teeth. They barely had time to scream. Blood spattered everywhere, Pandemonium broke out. Crew and captives desperately tried to run away as far as they could from the monstrosity. Despite her terror, the healer’s daughter locked eyes with the spellbinding gaze of the mythical creature. Something ancient and unseen passed between them. Ensnared like a moth to a flame, she rose and shuffled forwards despite her bound arms. All eyes aboard the ship watched the unfolding scene. All held their breath as the great serpent lowered its head towards the approaching girl.