Raven's Heart: The Isle of Mists

Prologue

The sky was the color of intensive indigo. Delicate strips of quicksilver crossed its surface over and over while the glistening black billows of clouds swelled and exploded disintegrating into millions of shining pearls with an ever-growing humming. She blinked slowly, with difficulty, fighting the salty, burning sensation all over her. The sky waved, and the humming began to rise alarmingly. She extended one arm before her and looked at it with astonishment. It was pale, glassy somehow, blurry and slow. She shook her head trying to look around and felt the locks of her hair raising slowly higher and higher above her face, covering her eyes, blocking her mouth.

Behind her, she only saw a black abyss moving measurely in the rhythm of a sleeping breathing of something dark and dangerous. The sky above her billowed, whirled and thumped. The world shivered and swayed, the indigo turned to a shiny obsidian, the silver stripes became waves of heavy lead, and the breath of wind became a furious, wolfish howl. She opened her mouth trying to say something, to shout, cry for help, but her voice stuck in her throat, she choked on the whirling liquid lead that without notice filled everything around.

Suddenly she felt sharp pain and a brutal yank. Something was dragging her upwards in the direction of the ever-louder roar, in the direction of the waving, raging, furious sky. She was swallowed by the chaos of ice-cold streams of water and gusts of whirling wind that seemed to moan and howl like a living creature. She shut her eyes tightly trying to calm herself, focus on something, anything... but all she felt was a hollow void inside her.

"Throw this devilment back overboard!" the voice was low and hoarse, coming somewhere from above. When she opened her eyes, she saw several figures hunching over her in the dark. The raging sea banged furiously on the ship's deck.

"It's no good omen, lads!" snarled another voice, even deeper than the one before it and with a curious accent. Its owner had a sunburnt, weather-beaten face, a large golden ring in his nose and only one ear. He spat vigorously and poked her side with the tip of his wet boot showing visible disgust. The wind growled, whined and jerked the sail furiously.

"Cursed northern wind..." the third figure, shorter and hooded seemed to have no face at all, the pale moonlight showing only the bony profile with a prominent nose. Again, the wind screamed and jerked the sail ropes now strained to their limits. Cold rain started slanting down mercilessly, bringing the smell of ozone and seaweed.

"Whaleshit!" the last voice was as sharp as a razor and rang a hint of unquestionable authority  - "This is but a child, and barely alive! If she decides to die here on us, the gods will surely be offended!" – He cursed in some weird foreign tongue and took a swallow from a rotten looking bottle of rum. His bald skull was all covered by an intricate tattoo depicting a wind rose – "Jorg! Take her to my cabin and take care of her wounds."- he shouted.

"Aye aye captain!"

A pair of leathery hands pulled her up suddenly. Her body seemed weirdly light in its inertia, and the coldness of the sea still filled her to the bone. She felt numb and indifferent to everything that was happening.

"What is your name, child?" he asked her later, almost gently while he was bandaging her bitten arm.

Nothing...

"How did you get here in the midst of a storm?"

How...?

Jorg must have noticed something in her eyes then.

"The sea has no pity, little one, but, all in all, nothing is ever lost in it," he laughed a humorless laugh showing the lack of his front teeth at that. Outside the wind still wailed nad thundered hitting the boards of the ship with mighty squalls like a raging giant slamming his fists. "It will all come back to you, once you recover. It will all come back to you, child..."

Liar...