Prologue
In the most northern part of Perygl lies a tiny village by the sea. This small little hamlet has been perched on those mossy, salt-water hills for centuries, as have the residents. In the most northern part of Perygl lies the tiny hamlet known as ‘Passerine.’
In Passerine there are two small farms, a small Inn-slash-Tavern, a chapel, a stable, and a lighthouse. Beside the lighthouse, attached to a rickety, wooden dock, there is one small also wooden dingy boat. Both are water-logged and worn with the dock now a blueish-green color.
To the other villages, just past the Moor, Passerine is known as two different things, one being ‘The Land of Sea Beasts,’ and the other ‘Eilean nan deomhan.’ (The Isle of Demons.) This is, in part, due to the myths surrounding Passerine.
The running myth states that, long ago, the hamlet used to be a village. This village, built from the ground up by the Prophet Saint Passerine of Ifrinn, was built, unfortunately, over sacred grounds used by the people of Perygl’s earliest tribes. In being built over such holy grounds, the village was cursed by the angered spirits of Perygl, and many beasts then arose from the sea to destroy the village. Children disappeared. Illnesses spread. Crops refused to grow. The sunlight disappeared. In the end, only the hamlet lay standing. To protect themselves, the many remaining villagers found ways to fight the beasts, securing their safety after many years of battle and loss. These battles and losses are the reason no beasts have destroyed Passerine in many, many years.
Few, however, venture to Passerine, as the myth still haunts them—they fear the beasts of Perygl, convinced that they still remain. To those who do not know the myth, and do not know the hamlet’s dark past, Passerine is but a hovel on the coast, and sea beasts do not exist.
One such stranger is Passerine’s newest lighthouse keeper, Eleanora Grace, the Granddaughter of the since passed keeper, Arthur Grace. Freshly graduated, she comes for a change—peace, quiet, and seclusion. Or so she says.
There is one last addition to the myth of the beasts of Passerine. One that, unlike the first, Eleanora Grace does believe. In a sense. It is often wondered if this myth is more alarming than that of sea beasts and angry ghosts. This myth, drawing from the old peoples of Perygl again, gives cause for alarm. ‘Once Passerine has you, it keeps you. Residents of this coastal abode can try to leave, and may find success, but they will always be back. Their souls belong to Passerine. To Perygl. To the beasts. Even in death, whispers remain. You never, ever, leave.’
It is these whispers that are the true reason behind Eleanora Grace’s arrival in Passerine. Plagued by cryptic dreams in which her Grandfather beckons her with visions of waves the size of towers, crows as black as night, and the ever-growing sense of unease—as if something is missing—she journeys now to Passerine to discover the truth behind her Grandfather’s messages. The truth about his death. And the secrets buried deep in Passerine’s roots.
