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Heath O'Donnell

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The Daring Jig

In the world of The Hylian Fantasy

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Ongoing 789 Words

The Daring Jig

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Rolance shivered as he adjusted his grip on the barrel. The fire of the ship had died out hours ago and the chill and damp sank into his bones like the teeth of a dark beast. He wanted to let go, to let the cold and wet be all there was. Suddenly, a splash to his left pulled him from his dark thoughts. Perhaps a shark? He pulled himself up more out of the water, fear resurfacing after days floating next to the slow sinking merchant vessel.

Then he saw them. Seven dark shapes swimming towards him, their speed causing a wide wake behind them. The lead shape crested the water and a bright green fin, it's sharp crescent curve villainous in the fading daylight. Rolance grasped for the chain around his neck.

"Zephryon, protect me!" He cried as his grip spun the barrel under his weight, sending him under the water with barely a splash. The wet and cold were simple killers. He had no strength to pull himself back to the surface. And so the darkness of the Great Sea took him.

Salty sea spray and rushing wind pulled him back to that still fading light. Something was beneath him, rising and falling like a wave. He tried to push against it but a dark eye and row of sharp teeth looked back at him from the water before him.

"Would be best to keep your body against mine, son of Hylia," the broken Hylian seemed to bubble over the rushing wind and waves. Rolance glanced around quickly before clasping his chest against the scaled armor of the creature below him.

He was riding- no, being carried by a Zora. The powerful body pulled him across the water with ease, taking care to gracefully skim the surface so that his own body did not continue to soak with every wave. A long head tail fluctuated against Rolance, it's tip dipping occasionally into the water with small tilts of its owners head. Looking out across the top his green skinned savior the much smaller rider could see they were quickly approaching a distant shore, swimming at an angle to compensate for his body only allowing the Zora the use of their legs to turn them. He turned his head to look behind them, spotting along the horizon the still sinking sillohete of the Daring Jig.

What would have taken the young sailor days of weak paddling took the Zora only minutes to cover. As the two rose from the surf, one standing, a helping hand extended and the other barely crawling, Rolance realized his future still held a bright light for him.

"Thank Zephryon," he muttered.

"No, my name is Jirim. May your days continued to be blessed by my actions." The green Zora flashed another smile of villianous looking teeth as the man collapsed into the sand.

 

"Captain, all together we have five survivors. Only one appears to have been part of the crew. The others were passengers." The young guard read off the manifesto, noting the five survivors seperatly from the others. The cargo was, of course, missing several crates of food stores and there was evidence that more valuable arms and trinkets were taken. "All considered though, sir, the Daring Jig was not an especially loaded down merchant vessel."

"At least not on this this trip." Both kept their voices low, using the bubbly, hypnotic speech of their people. The larger Jirim, a large waterskin strapped across his chest, knealt down next to one of the survivors. "For sure pirates. Any signs of Aveta?"

"The Hammer? None of her usual marks, sir. The sheer destruction seems unlike her. Normally only crew would be harmed, and even then she has boasted, to both of us I may add," the guard glanced pointedly at a long scar across her Captain's shoulder," that she abhors death solely for deaths sake."

Jirim carefully guided the survivor back to the makeshift cot, capping the waterskin. The attack had happened a few miles offshore of Ubota Point. It had unfortunately taken the Zora too long to hear about and too long to get to. The beach beneath the massive outcropping was well shielded from the summer sun. Even then, the Zora hadn't been able to do enough, to provide enough. Too far from any civilization with too many injuries. It would be a day before the nearest Hylian contingent would be on their way.

Standing, Jirim cursed. "If we have another band on our hands, I fear the king may come to blows with his old friends." Both Zora looked to the southern horizon, small lights bobbing in the water where the Daring Jig still floated, unwilling to finally accept the darkness around her.

 


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