The Legend of Arcaladia

Mallory

The phoenix's blazing feathers streak the sunrise with more reds and oranges. After a quick, distinct whistle, the phoenix dives like a falcon, reaching an incredible speed, and catches his breakfast: a small grouse. I finish the red berries in my hand and stand up, nervous yet excited.

Today is the day the Islanders launch their revolution. While I'm not technically an overworked, underpayed villager, I want to see the King on his knees, begging for the mercy he never gave others.  As does everyone.

So when the ships leave the harbour and sail to the mainland, I will leave with them.

I suppose the cloak I permanently borrowed will conceal my face enough so that authorities don't come running to my arrest. Just not exactly sure people won't get suspicious that I'll have a phoenix companion. 

After slinging my osage orange bow and a quiver of feather-tipped arrows over my shoulder, I slip between the Soldiers and Mainland ambassadors guarding the gangplank to a ship. Whilst the Mainland may think that the Islanders are weak and feeble I know that Staelinhurst is doing better then expected, our lush forests are teeming with game. Nauticalia are using their superb fishing skills to thrive and Heskaraland's caves are home to mountains of Purperite - one of the best metals for weaponmaking.

The ship is disguised as a cargo ship so the Mainland ambassadors won't suspect anything. Only thing is, the Mainland ambassadors hate me. They'd recognise my face, and definitely the fact that I've stolen from them more times than I can count.

I guess they deserved it.

So as soon as I'm able to board the ship, I hide behind some 'cargo', whispering to Ash, the phoenix, about staying out of sight. When the ship moves, I immediately feel vomit rising to my mouth.

Seems I'm still very much prone to sea sickness.

At some point, after my bursting pride of evading guards, Mainland ambassadors, and angry Staelinhurstian villagers fades, the sea sickness becomes the one thing I can't defeat. I come out of my hiding place, with my cloak covering my body, with my hood concealing my face and hair and lean over the side of the ship and retch.

There goes breakfast.

I hear some heavy footsteps, clearly the expensive boots of a Mainland ambassador.

Oh, shit.

'May I ask your business on this cargo ship?' Of course, a Capital accent. 

'I'm here for the same cause as the rest of the many people on this ship,' I say, nerves betraying my once-calm demeanour. 'I'm just a little sea sick.'

'Seasickness?' the ambassador asks. 'Then why are you even transporting the cargo?'' Of course, the ambassadors must question everything. 'Are you allowed on this ship, peasant?'

'Yes, of course, I'm sorry,' I blabber, trying to walk away.

'Let me see your face.'

Oh, shit.

Despite my efforts to escape the scene, the ambassador removes my hood in one quick, smooth move.

At once, my recognisable red curls bounce out of my poor attempt at a bun, surrounding the face that those Mainland ambassadors know all too well.

'It's you. You! How dare you-' The ambassador stops himself, then draws a frighteningly sharp blade. The sound of the metal against its scabbard really sends chills down my spine. My instincts turn to fight or flight - by the size of that blade, I'm 100% ready to flee.

I run toward a crowd of Staelinhurstians by the centre of the ship, but I'm soon surrounded by Mainland ambassadors. A fight breaks out as ambassadors lash out, threatening with their swords. Next thing I know, I'm using what I remember of physical combat skills to fend off the ambassadors. The fight nears toward the edge of the ship, and soon I'm cornered and precariously near to falling. I consider using my bow and shooting at the ambassadors. However, before I can reach my bow, I feel a hard blow against the back of my head.

Ouch.

My vision blurs and the dizziness is overwhelming. In the distance, I can see the hilt of a sword, smothered in what seems to be my blood. Putting a careful hand to the back of my head, I press down and the pain stings. After pulling my hand away, I find I'm looking at my palm, coated in my own sticky, warm blood. My consciousness slips away as I step drunkenly backwards and fall over the side of the ship.

Down into the water.

All I can see is a blurry flame, probably Ash, circling above, and a sense of disappointment in the air as I fall.