The Still Sea

Pale sunlight shone down on the ship, illuminating an average sized man with unkempt, wavy shoulder length black hair, and pale grey eyes. The man, Morn, cast a lifeline over the edge of the boat. The end of the rope landed in doomed hands.

Morn sighed deeply as he stared over the edge of the ship.

Tens of sailors lay in the water, silent. Hands of water grasped at their flesh, numbing their nerves, and sapping their life. Their bodies were being dragged into the deep, this was the curse of the thirteenth sea. Morn watched helplessly, terrified of the grasping waters.

"Morning! Over here, the rowboat!"

A tall man peaked his head up over the side of the boat, a beckoning hand waved to Morn. Morn took a last glance at the dying crew, then dashed across the ship- barely able to keep his balance on the wet, rumbling deck. The waters sat eerily still, as if held firmly in place by innumerable hands.

The clouds told a different story. Rain poured from the sky, disappearing into the still waves without so much as a ripple. Lightning streaked through the sky, tying the clouds together in ethereal beams of light.

Thunder cracked in Morn's ears as he dodged the flailing, bony fingers of a skeletal Levjottun. The sea monster clung to the boat, desperately struggling against the curse of the sea, trying to escape the ocean depths, hoping for a feast. It was the very creature who had pulled his companions into the ocean in the first place.

Morn let out an anxious breath as he jumped over the edge of the boat, landing in a lifeboat next to the man who called him over. His closest friend, Azur, fumbled with the ropes that held the rowboat in place. Morn quickly joined him. The boat fell to the ocean with a small splash, quickly falling behind the ship as it continued forward, deeper into Fairjott.

Azur grabbed one of the three sets of oars. He grunted as he pulled with all his strength, forcing the rowboat to move away from the ship. Morn reached for an oar. As the boat shifted, he was thrown off balance. He stumbled forward, barely managing to stop himself from fully plunging into the still waters. His left arm dangled over the side of the boat. One hand grazed the ocean water, turning numb on contact.

He felt himself being pulled down towards the ocean. Morn panicked, fumbling for his pack. Azur noticed Morn's struggle.

"Shit!"

Azur dropped his oars and tore open Morn's bag, pulling out a metal half mask with a small metal canister already attached to its front. Azur passed the mask to Morn, who quickly clamped the mask against his face, covering his mouth and nose.

He twisted a valve on the side of the mask and inhaled deeply, a foul smelling gas filled his lungs, but he continued breathing it. Soon, the numbness left his hand, and the water's grasping stopped. With relief, Morn pulled his hand from the water and took off the mask.

"Calm down, Morn. Let's get paddling. We don't want to be stuck here if... if Tethra comes."

Morn shivered, then began to paddle as he nodded to Azur:

"You're right, let's get out of here."

Though Morn had never seen Tethra, he'd heard horror stories. The great horror, the Hand of Plenty, the Avian, Tethra was known by many names; it was one of the 8 Levjottyr-dal, terrifying creatures who controlled corresponding cursed regions of the sea, an unspeakably vile monster.

Thankfully, the six great islands were protected by their dwellers, the great deities who pulled the islands from below. Due to the dwellers, humanity retained eight of the sixteen regions, with all aside from Moin and Nauv controlling a single region. Morn himself came from Yol, the island protected by Yolta the Reader.

The two paddled furiously, the boat made quick progress through the ocean. Morn watched over his shoulder, their ship sailed into the deadly sea. A giant skeletal hand slowly slid from its side, finally returning to the ocean. Morn resumed his paddling with renewed vigour.

Soon, colours returned to the world, and the clouds lost their fury- becoming a calm presence in the noon sky. The sunlight returned to its normal luster, no longer desaturated. Waves resumed their dance across the water, gently rocking the rowboat. It was only now that the pair could take a moment to rest, finally free from the cursed region.

Azur took a swig from a small canteen at his hip, then passed it to Morn.

"Drink up, we'll row again in a few minutes. Let's head for that island."

Azur pointed left, a small island floated across the waves, gradually getting closer.

Morn stared at the island, nervous about its condition.

They had arrived in one of the channels, the areas in between the sixteen main regions of Malsata. Though levjottun didn't appear in channels as often as they did in the cursed seas, it was still possible. Only the eight calm regions were completely clear of levjottun.

"Are you sure we want to stop here?" Morn asked with a hint of concern.

Azur gave a thoughtful look, then shrugged.

"It's our only option. We can't make it very far in this little rowboat. Plus, the current it's riding is taking it back the way we came from. With any luck, that island will drift halfway back to Yol."

Morn sighed helplessly, then leaned back in the boat, using his loosely folded overcoat as a pillow. He began to watch the clouds as he thought about his fallen comrades. Though he'd only known them for a few weeks, since they left their island on a gas-harvesting expedition, he still felt a small loss at their deaths. Nothing to cry over, but a loss nonetheless.

Azur and him both joined the harvesters years ago, working their way up from apprentice harvesters to their current positions as Alkimiya Harvesters. Their jobs now involved the synthesis of Alkimiya gases, like the anti-numbing agent he'd breathed to escape the grasping waters, Vairmol.

After two years of hard work, they were close to saving up for a shared house on the edge of Caslac in southern Yol. He and Azur had joined the expedition to earn the last of the funds needed for the move. The expedition turned sour when the ship's Farseer had disappeared in the night, along with one of the rowboats and half their food supply.

Their captain had changed course, assuming the Farseer had divined a terrible fate about their original route. Unfortunately, a storm forced him into unpatrolled waters. On the newly plotted route, they'd encountered the skeletal monster.

As a harvesting ship, they relied on only a Farseer to avoid danger. They lacked any means to fight off a powerful monster. With no other choice, the captain had guided the ship into Fairjott, the thirteenth sea of Malsata, and the fifth of the eight deadly seas.

His plan had partially worked, the grasping waters had stopped the monster from climbing onto the ship. Unfortunately, it took most of the crew, including the captain, with it. If the Farseer hadn't deserted them then the rest of the crew may have survived. Morn sighed deeply as he sat up.

"Let's get going, I'm getting anxious sitting here."

Azur took one last sip from his canteen, then mumbled agreement. The two took up a set of oars each, and rowed to the drifting island.

Morn grew more nervous as they approached the island, his eyes never leaving the water. Unblinking, he stared at the waves, trying to peer beneath the surface of the water. Even when their boat made landfall, he remained tense.

Azur secured their rowboat to a rock at the base of the island with a small length of rope. A smooth cliff, several metres tall, made of a porous and buoyant rock protected the island's edge. The cliff was a trait common amongst nearly all islands. The cliffs prevented most weak levjottun from posing any threat to the inhabitants of the islands.

Azur reached into his own pack, pulling out two sets of clawed gauntlets. He passed one pair to Morn, then donned his own. The two grabbed their equipment, then began to climb the small cliff. The clawed gauntlets allowed them to dig into the smooth rock, making the climb possible. The equipment was standard for all sailors.

Azur made it to the top first, while Morn paused on the cliff face. A frown crept its way onto his face as he stared at the rock wall to his left. There were pairs of long scratch marks marring the stone, similar to the ones their climbing gauntlets make, but much more irregular. Morn felt like a rock fell into his stomach, his body tensed as he climbed the remaining several metres of cliff. As he reached the top of the wall, he heard Azur's voice.

"Fuck, a Levjottun! Class two, maybe higher!"

A scream shattered the air, inhuman and unnatural. A gurgling sound like bubbling water underpinned the scream, lending a terrifying tone to the screech. Morn felt his hairs stand on end as he scrambled up the cliff, pulling himself onto land. A few metres ahead of him, Azur stood near a forest of tall trees. In his hands, Azur held his harvesting drill, a long sturdy and hollow needle attached to a curved handle.

A gas canister hung from the bottom of the handle. At the pull of a lever, the gas would fill a piston in the handle, vibrating the needle to make a gas powered drill. The needle had a valve part way down with a tube running down the drill and connecting to a large tank of gas in Azur's backpack.

The drill was normally used to harvest gas from deposits, compressing the gas into the tank in the harvester's backpack. In desperate moments, the drill could also be used as a weapon.

The Levjottun emerged from the tree line. The creature was hideous. It had the body of a wolf, with the skin and fins of a shark. Its head was similar to a piranha, but had a bulbous sack below its jaw. The Levjottun let out its scream again, causing the sack on its jaw to vibrate, creating the strange bubbling noise. Luminous green bubbles emerged from its mouth.

The bubbles caused the grass to sizzle as they hit the ground. Morn quickly began equipping his own drill. His hands trembled as he did so, delaying him as he screwed on the fuel-tank. The Levjottun didn't wait for Morn.

The creature scrambled furiously towards Azur, ready to feast. When it was within range, the creature leaped from the ground, diving towards Azur. Morn's friend raised his drill and slammed it into the monster's throat as it lunged at him.

The needle pierced through the creature, emerging from the other side of its neck. The creature struggled for a moment, letting out one last gurgling scream as it released a stream of bubbles at Azur.

Azur groaned in pain as the bubbles burst on his skin, causing his skin to blister and boil. He gripped the lever of the drill, activating the piston. The drill vibrated rapidly, scrambling the monster's throat and causing red blood bubbles to foam from the puncture wound. Azur pulled the drill from the creature's throat as it slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Azur lightly touched his wounds, wincing in pain.

"Ah- God, that burns."

Making himself useful, Morn reached into his bag, removing a small can of gas. He passed it to Azur, who donned his own inhalant mask and screwed the can into its side. He let out a muffled but sharp breath as he inhaled the painkiller. He turned to Morn.

"Thanks. If there's more of that species, we're in for a fight. They can climb up here, but they're fairly weak, there's no way they can stay on land for long. They probably can't stray too far from the cliffs-"

Azur put a hand to his neck, giving it a crack. He stretched for a moment before continuing:

"-We need to get further inland, before we run into more of those things."

Morn nodded, then removed a small T-shaped valve and two small gas tanks from his backpack. He screwed the two gases into opposite ends of the T, then attached an empty canister to the last slot. He flicked a lever on the valve, allowing the gases to mix together inside the canister.

Putting away the valve, he screwed the tank of mixed gas, Pyral, onto his drill's handle. Morn opened up a latch at the base of the needle and attached a small spark-igniter to the tube.

He turned the igniter until it clicked into place inside the needle, then closed the latch. The handle of the igniter stuck out from the base of the drill. With his makeshift-flamethrower complete, Morn donned his gas mask, then stood up.

Azur walked into the forest, Morn followed close behind. His eyes darted back and forth, scouting carefully for signs of an ambush...