>>47507002Ominous creaking. The constant crashing of the waves. The ship pitched at sickening angles, never letting the Marowak's pounding heart leave his throat. The rain came in surges, slamming down into the deck with the force of the wind, coming down like a barrage of icy needles. The same rope that kept the trysail from coming loose was the one that kept him from going overboard outright. There was no one steering. No one left to manage what the storm had already broken. Everyone else had fallen overboard into the surf. He was the only one.
An incredible swell seized the ship and nearly tossed him overboard. If not for the rope he'd wrapped around his arms twicefold, that would have been it. Dazed from the impact, the Marowak struggled to his feet and latched onto anything within reach to stead himself. The ship, whining as if about to snap at any second, was nearly vertical along a vortex in the sea. A shadow fell over him as the ship dipped below the level of the waves. This was it.
There was a sound somehow louder than the din of the wind. A screech so powerful that it seemed to cut through terror itself, leaving only awe. Something white stood out against the black waves in the center of the vortex. Some avian form, massive and overwhelming, halfway emerged from the froth and stuck its maw towards the skies above. Another screech deafened him. A single beat of its wings created such force that the shockwave of wind blasted black spots into the Marowak's vision.
It felt like a dream. He was rendered half-conscious, certain of his own death as he was thrown across the wood and slammed into the back railing. The ropes felt as though they were going to tear his arms off outright. Then, his lungs burned and burned until he awoke with a gasp.
Blue sky. The black curtain above him had parted, and in the gap was a spiral of blue.
