It had been one of those days when everything had seemed to go wrong. Dracan had never had so many problems to cope with, while sailing, he had set his course for his home in Latavascar. The winds and seas had changed hour by hour becoming more and more violent. As the minutes slipped by with banks of heavy black clouds and winds so strong, he feared for his boat. The roaring winds had already torn his single fragile sail into shreds, the seas were already starting to swamp his boat. Bailing out as fast as he could but it felt that he was fighting a losing battle. The state of the winds and seas, forcing him away from his homeland. He felt that all he could do was to try to find safety. Maybe on a small island that he knew was somewhere nearby, he hoped that he was right and then prayed to all the gods that he knew that he was right. Dracan had last seen the island about an hour ago as his boat had risen and fallen off the crest of the highest waves. At the moment, all he could see was the driving rain, so heavy that he could only just see the bow of his boat.
So hard was Dracan concentrating on bailing out his boat, that he missed the sudden appearance of the rocks. There was a violent crash as his small boat, pounded by the sea hit against the rocks. Forced on to the beach, the sea roared, thrown violently out of his boat into the boiling sea. Battling against the waves, pounded by them, Dracan, finally reached safety. As he hit the gritty, sandy, beach, the breath being knocked out of him. Struggling and crawling breathless further up the beach Helped by the waves, which finally pushed him to relative safety. Slowly relaxing, Dracan allowed his body to start recovering, from the beating it had taken over the last few hours. After crawling further up the beach, he settled behind some smaller rocks at the base of what appeared to be cliffs. Trying to hide from the winds and spray from the raging seas.
Realising that he must have slept for several hours, Dracan climbed to his feet. Stretching his arms and legs to help take some of the aches and pains from his battered body. Noticing that even the wind and rain had eased leaving the skies clearer, the seas calmer, in fact, it had become a gentle and still evening. He slowly walked towards the shell of his little boat and had the feeling that he may be here on this little island for some time. Taking his time, he slowly pulled and pushed the remains of his boat. Upon the beach, as he could, never again, would his boat taste the salty water of the seas again. What he had was really just the frame of the boat, with just a few planks in place. A sort of hole surrounded by wood, the mast and spar broken and bent. Maybe he would in his search of the island, find other broken boats. From which he could save some parts and rebuild his boat. Now it was time for him to search, for life's essentials, food, water and shelter. Even if the food was only fruit and berries, he knew it was the warm season so clothing would not be so important.
His shirt, trousers, though torn and dirty were in general, in fairly good condition. The leather boots he was wearing were new, so walking and climbing would be no problem for him and at 24 summers he was a strong and healthy young man. Although it was a good feeling, still to be alive, sitting there on the sandy beach. Watching and waiting for he knew not what, it was his grumbling, rumbling empty stomach that forced Dracan to find a way off the beach and on to the island proper. The cliffs were a bit of an obstacle for him but not an insurmountable one. They were Dracan guessed, the height of maybe four or five men stood on each other's shoulders
The wind and the rain had eroded parts of the cliff face, offering what seemed to be fairly firm hand and footholds. After he assessed his route, Dracan began a long and weary climb and not without a few cursed oaths, he reached the top, Dracan popped his head above the top. What he saw, he almost disbelieved, nothing but rippling ridges of sandstone, as far as the eye could see. Levering himself over the top, he turned, sat on the edge, looked back down at the small bay and saw the remains of his boat. Dracan came to the sad conclusion, that it was time to turn round and face the unknown, he knew there was no food and water left on the wreck of his boat, if he was to survive his current ordeal he had to take his courage in his own hands and start walking across the barren stony surface to whatever his future now held.
Suddenly noticing that the evening was drawing in, the light beginning to fade. Dracan walked into the unknown, one little thought flitted through his mind, it seemed years ago when his grandfather had told him that the island known as Montraghar was a place to be avoided, it had a very bad past and many, many years ago was known for bad things happening to the people who had lived there, but his grandpa did not know what these bad things were, he had only been told by his father what he was telling Dracan. The only thing that Dracan could tell, was that it was very still and very quiet. No chirping or twittering from birds, mind you, he had not seen any birds so far, no sounds from insects like the cicadas, it was, Dracan thought, too quiet, maybe his grandpa's words were true but putting that small memory to the back of his mind he walked boldly into the unknown, that was until he missed his footing took a tumble, staggered and stumbled then falling flat on his rear end, started to slide down a hill that slowly became steeper and steeper, falling faster and faster and completely losing his sense of balance and bearings he came to a sudden abrupt halt, his nose in the dirt, his rear end pointing to the skies. It took Dracan a few seconds to realise that he had, in fact, stopped hi stumbling and rolling, gingerly standing up and feeling all around his body he realised that he was only somewhat bruised and battered but still in one piece, he tried to take stock of his position, it seemed as though he was now standing in a steep-sided valley but because of the lack of light could not really work things out, he did realise that he would soon have to stop and take a rest for the night but he had to find somewhere where he felt relatively safe. Gingerly and slowly walking forward Dracan sought somewhere where he could rest, very, very faintly he thought he could hear what he thought might have been a stream and where there was water there may be somewhere safe to rest and recover from his aches and pains, then suddenly, there he could see in front of him was a small stream bubbling and gurgling as it danced its way down the hill. Kneeling by the stream, he tentatively sampled the water on the tip of his tongue. Thankfully realising that the water was drinkable he satisfied his thirst and then started to take stock of his situation. At least he had a source of drinkable water but from what he had seen, so far there was little else to cheer him.
Still following the stream, Dracan noticed in the dusk that the cliff side had shallowed and he found himself walking on almost flat land, the rocky sandstone surface had turned to a soft earth with an occasional plant and small bush, as he continued his walk to goodness knows where he could still hear the stream as it gently bubbled and gurgled its way along the flatter land. The noise of the stream quietened to almost gentle swishing and swirling, every so often Dracan thought he could hear the soft gentle tinkling laughter but again he could see nothing and thought he was too weary and tired and was imagining that his mind was playing tricks on him.
Dusk had almost become darkness, the night sky was alight with stars. The starlight dancing on the stream was his guiding light. now there was more vegetation around, he could see very dimly, away from the steam, more bushes and trees, some of which appeared to be fruit trees of some description, maybe, just maybe, he would find something to eat, walking as close to the stream as he could, he thought his eyes were now playing tricks on him but no, it was true, he could see that it was the ruins of what seemed to be small houses, it seemed as though the whole village if that is what it was, had fallen into ruin even though he could see no reason for it. Still, where there were houses and other buildings, there should be signs of life. In the starlight, it was eerie, where were the people? There was no sign of life, no matter which way he looked. He saw one house that appeared to be complete, just a single level building. No windows in place, just empty spaces where they should be. he started to look around for anything that may help him to make a fire to help keep him warm through the rest of the night, a few scraps of wool and maybe of fur, then a few slivers of wood and some twigs, scraps of what may have been someone's clothing from yesteryear, not from today for there were no signs of life as he knew it.
Gathering together the scraps and tinder that he had found, Dracan looked around for something to help him create a fire. He could not see anything around, to help him create a spark to light the tinder. Two words came to his mind, survival and kit, was his sailor's pouch still attached to his belt? With a sigh of relief, he found it still attached to his belt. Unwrapping the kit, he happily found that it was still dry, there it was. Just what he needed a striker attached to the striking stone, kneeling close to the tinder striking the stone hard six or seven times there it was, just a small spark that started to smoke, a few puffs gently on the tinder brought a small flame, adding to the small pile of tinder a small fire started, gentle puffs close to the small flame encouraged it to grow and there it was his badly needed fire. Slowly putting more and more slivers of wood and small twigs on to his fire and there it was, fire for warmth and light. Looking around the small room Dracan saw small broken pots and oddments lying around and what he saw and felt he knew was very old.
On what seemed to be a windowsill, he found a very old and rough cup. Taking it outside to wash it in the stream, he looked around, the stars seemed as bright as ever but there were four stars seeming to hang very low in the sky looking brighter than anything else in the night sky and once again Dracan thought he heard that bright tinkling laughter again, strange he thought, those four low standing stars seemed to be pulsing in time with the laughter. Plucking fruit from one of the trees as he walked by, tentatively biting into the fruit, he found it tasted rather nice. Sweet but bitter at the same time, so he plucked a few more from the tree and headed back to the room with the flames from his fire giving dancing shadows on the walls of the room, hearing the laughter again he turned around to find that the stars were really twinkling away in time with the laughter and even more strangely, the stars appeared to be following him, which he thought was impossible.
