The Legend of Arcaladia

Mallory

I remember waking up, to find that all the blood from the back of my head had disappeared and someone had tied a make-shift seaweed bandage, probably to stop the bleeding. I quietly rip it off and fling it aside, gathering up the bow and quiver still somehow attached to my back and taking in my surroundings.

Clearly a Mainland beach, a kelpie, and a boy. What am I doing here?

The boy is busy tending to the kelpie, which lies on its side, unconscious. He's using a make-shift seaweed bandage and a flask, which he keeps pouring over a deep wound near the kelpie's tail.

The boy looks about my age, dressed in shining Lapiz-gold armour. Beneath his armour he looked like he had some muscle. His short waves of sandy blond hair go just below his ears. his eyes seem to be a shimmering shade of sea green, almost like the waves. He doesn't look threatening. Apart from the massive trident at his side, of course.

However after living in the forest I know that appearances aren't everything. I didn't trust this mysterious boy.

Blessings from Cernunnos, keep me safe and alive here. Please.

I think it's best to leave unnoticed. The boy is so focused on the kelpie he won't hear a thing. I spot a high tree not too far away by the forests and run to it, picking up some trustworthy berries on the way. The weeping willow will shroud me from most things looking, so I climb swiftly. Once at the top, a whistle erupts from my lips before I can stop it.

Thankfully, it calls Ash. However, the boy turns his head sharply. His sea-green eyes are startling and swirl like whirlpools. I really  hope he isn't dangerous.

The boy realises I'm no longer by the edge of the of the forest and beach and puts it together - I'm in a tree.

'What in the name of Arawn are you doing up there?' He asks. 'Aren't you concussed?'

Brave of him to start speaking to me. I have a bow and a quiver. He could be dead by now if he brandishes his trident.

'Bh-uas? S dòcha gu bheil Gàidhlig agad?' he calls from the beach.

Ah, so he thinks I can't understand English.

'Never mistake my silence for weakness. Nobody plans a murder out loud.' I draw my beautiful yew bow and nock an arrow. 'You should know I have deadly aim.'

'As do I,' the boy says, and points his trident at me. 'You may want to prepare, bh-uas.' Then I notice a black leather strap on his wrist, which he presses.

In seconds, I am on the ground.

Above me, in the branches of the weeping willow, is a circular metal shield.

'You didn't have to throw a fucking shield at me!'

The boy clicks a button on the strap and the shield flies back to him and disappears inside the strap. He shrugs. 'Bh-uas, you were threatening me.'

'I may have threatened you, but do you actually think I was going to waste an arrow on you?' I retort.

'The mages taught me never to show weakness but the mages also taught me to kill on site,' I hear him mutter, his head down, his sandy curls obscuring his eyes.

Mages? Tribes? Oh gods, I should have known.

He's a  Nauticalian. 

A fish boy.