The Raging Storm

Chapter Four: The New Lands

Ansel couldn't see his hands in front of his face. Everything in his vision was pitch black. He tried moving but his legs remained frozen, unable to move an inch. Panic rose, making his heart hammer in his chest, but he calmed himself by closing his eyes and focusing on his breath the way Kazmere taught him. It wasn't working. The only sound in the perfect silence came from his ragged breathing.

"Is this a dream?" His voice echoed.

A sudden bright light blinded him. He cupped his hand over his eyes. The glorious light emitted warmth the same as a roaring fire. His breath caught in his throat; his vision cleared enough to examine his surroundings. This was no small room but a gigantic cave that went on forever.

The light made everything blurry. Hundreds of statues were laid out before him, all frozen in action. They all faced the same direction as him. Each of the statues had a different weapon. All raised to defend themselves.

A feminine voice whispered, "Who might you be?" The words came from within his own head.

The light expanded. Consumed everything in his vision, including him. The warmth tingled his skin until it started to burn. He opened his mouth to let out a wail. No sound came out.

The burning sensation ceased. The dream shifted.

He looked up. He muttered to no one, "By the Divines..." A colossal boulder filled the entire sky, hurtling toward the surface of the world. Alive. On fire. With a long fiery tail reaching back into the unknown. The impending doom cast a shadow over the whole landscape around him. The awe sucked away his breath. He stood witnessing the end of everything. He closed his eyes.

A sudden jolt coursed through his stomach, ripping him from his dream. He vomited up saltwater on the sand. His breath was ragged, the world-ending dream still fresh in his mind. His head pounded like someone banging on a drum. His lips were cracked and dry from the seawater. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

Where am I?

The events on the ship with Prince Dayne rushed back to him. I jumped off the ship in the middle of that storm. What was I thinking? He rubbed his right palm on the back of his head, checking for blood. Not finding anything serious, he sat upright. The sand underneath him was dark purple.

Purple sand? That's strange.

He picked some up and let it fall out of his fist in a slow trickle. The tide occasionally reached his bare feet, warming him. I've never felt water so pleasant. The soft breeze drifted by and chilled his bones. The sea breeze carried the smell of salty air. His breath became more relaxed by the minute. They were just dreams. The world isn't ending, relax. He let out a big exhale. They both felt so real.

He leaned back, taking in the view. To his left, ship after ship from the fleet was anchored. The soldiers rowed back and forth between the shore and the ships with their dinghies carrying supplies.

Hundreds of objects floated in the water and surrounded him on the shore. He squinted, studying some of the debris in the sand nearby. Are those... His eyebrows raised, realizing what the objects were.

Bodies.

The loss of life surrounding him was heart-wrenching. Sadness filled his heart. The bodies weren't all guards. Some were slaves, noticeable by their tattered clothing. Some had thick beards that were outlawed by the Crimson Guard. So much death from that storm and I somehow survived.

For the first time in months, luck shone down on him. He felt thankful to be alive. I never wished to die. But I didn't expect to have a chance like this.