The Legend of Arcaladia

Cedric

Today is the day I quit wandering round the Islands with a kelpie and start fighting for Nauticalia. 

Before I 'calmly left' my tribe, the sea eagles, totally not in exile. I asked our mage, who I was an apprentice to, to make me some armour. He risked getting killed but he was a better father figure to me then my father ever could be. He was a talented mage as he was a son of Goibniu himself but that helped with his smithing instead of his magecraft. He created an enchanted set of lapiz gold armour, dagger, shield and most importantly - a trident. I named the trident Coralaes; it had a beautiful sea green sheen to the lapiz-gold, and the sapphire in the centre glinted in the morning sun. 

I was relatively tall and the trident matched my height superbly. As I strapped the dagger to my arm, turned the shield into a plain leather strap (and yes my shield can do that) and grasped Coralaes. I heard the trumpets of my father. But just before I left Torack, the mage, said 'if you lose any of your weapons they will return to you, it is the same as your armour, go Cedric your father is coming! Go.'

I barely had time to ask him 'why is there no sword tidsear?'   

' Because Muhen sent me a vision you will collect a finer sword on your journey then I could ever make. Now GO gille GO'

It was time to go.

Symmarilian, the kelpie, and I, now have been roaming the coasts until we feel bothered to reach the Mainland. A couple of Heskaralander and Staelinhurstian ships have passed by, disguised as cargos.

Another 'cargo' ship sails by and I hear some unusual thumping - and a scream.

Gods, seems like some dam ambassadors are in a bad mood today.

My instincts tell me to climb aboard the ship and help this victim but then I remember that I'm not particularly welcome among the ambassadors, to say the least.

Instead I listen and watch. Something catches my eye, a flaming creature shooting across the sky in curious circles. Is that a phoenix?

Surely not, phoenixes are the stuff of legends. 

But then again, kelpies are as well.

At one point, the fight progresses to the very edge of the ship. A loud, booming thud echoes across the sea toward me. Looking closer, I see that an ambassador hit the victim over the head. That must hurt. A lot. The ambassador withdraws the hilt of his blade, covered in sticky, red blood. The blood is difficult to spot against the person's red hair but there is lots of it. They stumble backwards, precariously, dangling over the side.

My instincts tell me to swim across and help. I simply can't resist coming to their aid so I shoot through the water, leading Symmarilian. 

They fall. Quickly, swiftly, too soon. A good 15 metres through the air, into the blue deep, splashing, soaking the water crimson with blood.

What I think is a phoenix circles, crying out, ablaze against the azure sky, like the blood against the water.

Before common sense can persuade me to leave this mess alone, I dive underneath, and fight the current to drag the person to the surface. After heaving them onto Symmarilian's back, I study the unconscious form - a redheaded girl about my age, 17, a concerning amount of blood surging from the back of her head.

My plan is to bring her to mainland shore and make sure she lives. AKA hopefully she doesn't drown or die from blood loss.

By the time we're both secure on Symmarilian's back, he's ready to speed away to the white, smooth beaches. The wind causes the girls hair to flap around like wild birds, confined to a small cage, eager to escape. Thinking of birds, the phoenix follows us, still, its inquisitive, orange eyes peering down at us.

The beach looks like a tranquil paradise nestled along the shimmering coastline - but don't be fooled! Nothing about the Mainland is paradisiacal. The sand looks soft and powdery, stretching endlessly along the water's edge. Symmarilian swims close enough to allow me to drag the girl onto the shore.

Is it alright for me to say that the girl is heavy? Not fat, but still heavy.

 Or am I just a bit weak?

Anyways, I haul her lifeless (but still breathing) body, over the white sand and dump her on some grass by the edge of the beach. 

Her head lolls to one side and I follow what would be her gaze over to Symmarilian. That's when I notice he's injured. From what, though? On his glistening tail is a cut that runs deep and he tilts his head as if he's dizzy.

'Oh Ler and Taranis, I pray he'll survive,' I mutter. 'If Symmarilian gets an infection...'

Then he passed out.

Great