Drop Of The Sea
Logline
The warrior's blade once rejected her hand and marked her a mere support priest; now the chosen warrior lies broken, and only she can wield the blade.
Tension Anchors
Inciting Incident: a drop of seawater breaks the dream, the orb burns orange, and the ship steers itself off course.
Threshold Gate: then the sea creatures climb aboard.
Midpoint Cataclysm: a giant octopus hauls onto the deck and breaks Nico's sword in two.
Crisis Gate: Maria drops the dagger and takes up the blade.
Darkest Hour: a tentacle knocks her flat and the sword skitters out of reach; the creature rears over her.
Final Impact: the sword flies back to her hand, whole and burning white, and she kills the octopus. Then her god rises from the ocean.
Story
Maria held the ship's wheel in both hands and felt for the dream. The orb in the centre of the wheel pulsed as the dream guided her hands, steering the ship towards their destination. Thalassos turned in his sleep beneath the dark waters. She felt him stir though she did not know how she knew.
The gods had slept for as long as the humans remembered, and the world drank their dreams for magic. Some gods slumbered under mountains. Some rested high above the clouds. Maria's god slept in the depths of the ocean. Those who could reach a sleeping god became priests. The ones who could turn a dream into a blade, or a hail of ice shards, were warriors, and they were held in the highest regard in the tribe. The others who were still touched by the gods, but had no offensive abilities, became support priests. The healers, the weather forecasters, the ship navigators. Maria was support.
She had wanted the sword. Not for herself. A warrior daughter would have honoured her whole house, would have lifted her family from poverty. But the memory of her day of choosing haunted her. The warrior's blade arranged on the ceremonial cloth, and her hand reaching for the hilt, and the spark that cracked up her arm and threw the steel from her fingers. Her hopes were cut by the very thing she dreamed of. Giggling from her peers. An elder pointing at the orb. Blinking back tears, she reached for the orb, and it leapt onto her hands, pulsing a brilliant blue. And she remembered Nico, sixteen and already chosen as a warrior, laughing at her. At least she was a support priest. Few could touch a god's dreams, and priesthood meant she could still help her family. She often said that to herself.
Nico was on the deck now, five years later, sitting with his back to the mast, drumming his fingers on the scabbard.
"Are you lost?" he said. "Do we need to turn to the stars now to guide us?" A few of the crew laughed, because it was easier to laugh with Nico than to be laughed at by him.
Maria pursed her lips. "We're on course."
Why the elders had insisted on putting them together on the same ship could only be the will of Thalassos. The crew knew she had steered them away from giant ocean predators and chaotic thunderstorms. There were other words she wanted to say, but she would not drop to Nico's level.
The sky turned from blue to orange as the sun began to dip below the horizon. A pod of whales swam beside the ship. The dream flowed stronger in Maria, but she would need to rest soon.
A drop of ocean water interrupted the dream flow, the salty brine rinsing her mouth. She had felt this only once, back at the choosing ceremony. The orb in the wheel glowed orange, and the ship veered left. Maria turned the wheel but it would not budge. The ship sailed faster.
The sun splashed streaks of dark amber across the sky. The orb flashed to an angry blood red. The pod of whales swam up out of the water, two extra pairs of fins attached to their sides. Fog rolled up the sides of the ship, obscuring everything around them. The whales squealed, shuddered, and dived into the waters.
"What have you done?" Nico was beside her now. "Take us back."
"I can't," she said. "The ship is moving on its own."
"Don't lie to me. This is all your fault. I told the elder this was a mistake."
She kept quiet, listening for the dream that had rippled deep inside her. The ripples exploded into a splash. "Something's coming."
A man screamed. Biting on his arm was a chest-high creature with the head of a fish and the body of a crab. More of these fish-crab creatures hauled themselves onto the deck. The crew took what makeshift weapons they could find to defend themselves.
Nico unsheathed his sword, and he charged at the nearest creature. He danced from creature to creature, the blade carved with eruptions of ice from each blow. The crew organised themselves around him, finishing any creature still alive after his deadly blows.
Maria drew her dagger.
"Stay back. I don't want to tell the elders you got hurt under my charge," he said.
One creature leapt at the back of an unsuspecting man. Maria dashed forward and stabbed the creature in the eye. Before the man could turn around, she stabbed the creature again and kicked it away. She was not a warrior, but she would not stand by and cower.
The ship tilted port-side. An octopus, taller than three times a man would stand, clambered onto the deck, and lurched towards them. Nico held his sword before him, the dream wrapping the blade in azure light, and he charged at the octopus.
Tentacles thumped at Nico, but he danced away, his sword slicing bits of octopus flesh as he moved. The creature swiped horizontally and Nico ducked. As he stood, one tentacle bored towards him, and he brought his sword up to defend.
The sound of metal breaking shattered the air.
Nico flew backwards from the blow and hit the mast. His back was against the wooden pillar, and his chest was covered in green slime. He reached for his sword, which was broken in half and rested an arm's length away from him, and slumped forward doing so. The octopus emitted a guttural cry and slopped towards Nico.
Maria rushed to stand in front of the advancing creature.
"What are you doing?" said Nico.
"Saving you," said Maria. But the hand holding her dagger trembled.
"Don't need your help." He coughed.
She glanced at Nico's broken sword on the deck. A tug at her heart, and the memory of a spark sending a sword flying away at the choosing ceremony surfaced. She blinked, put the dagger away, and retrieved the sword. Sparks crackled along her arm, but she gripped it tighter. Not this time. She would not lose the sword.
With a roar, she charged at the giant octopus. A tentacle swung from above, and she dodged it, and stabbed dark purple flesh. Another tentacle swept at her. She ducked too late, and the tentacle hit her back and dropped her on all fours. The sword skittered away from her, the impact causing her to lose her grip.
Gritting her teeth, she rolled away and got to her feet. The octopus raised two tentacles in the air, its large yellow eyes fixed on Maria, and slithered forwards. Maria closed her fists, and lowered her body to steady herself against the ship's sway. If she was to die, she would die fighting.
She glanced at the fallen sword, and her fingers reached for it. The texture of the dream changed, no longer mild like a brook but forceful like white waters crashing over the edge of a cliff.
The creature reared back, and a tentacle shot at Maria, just like it did at Nico. Sparks crackled down Maria's arm, and the sword flew to her hands. She held the sword upright to block the blow.
A dull clang erupted from the impact. The sword was now burning with white light, whole once again. The creature recoiled, and Maria used that opening to close the gap. She slashed the tentacles, the creature crying out with every cut.
Jumping off the tentacles, she aimed for one of the eyes. Viscous liquid splashed on Maria as the eye exploded. As she dropped down, Maria swung at where the creature's mouth was. Blue-white fire burnt along the sword and on the cuts she inflicted. With a final cry, the octopus slumped on the deck, white fire spurting from its mouth.
Maria stood, breathing hard. A cough behind her caused her to turn. Nico was on his side, blood spattered on the wooden planks near his mouth. Poison. Maria rushed to him, turning him so he was on his back.
"You killed it. That was no support priest," he said. He glanced at the reforged sword, still glowing with white light.
Maria looked around. Several of the crew had blood on their clothes. One of them had a tourniquet around his forearm, his wide eyes staring straight at her.
The roar of the dream had subsided. Maria knew the dream felt different, that it took hold of the ship. The dream changed again, this time like warm water lapping the sandy beach on a sunny day.
She raised her hand and pointed at Nico's chest wound. Coral-coloured light flowed from her hand into the wound, and Nico took a sharp inhale. The green slime melted away, revealing a hole in Nico's robes where the tentacle had pierced it.
"How did you do this?" he said, his voice steady now.
The dream wrapped around Maria like a cool breeze.
"You have done well," a deep voice said. "I guided the ship here, to my resting place." A spark lanced over her arm. "Your elders had misunderstood my sign," the voice said.
The fog dissipated, and columns of seawater churned to form the shape of a giant man on the starboard side of the ship. His upper body rose above the surface of the ocean, water rippling over chest and arms, with him standing taller than the ship's mast. Everyone went down on their knees.
"Rise," said Thalassos, his voice vibrating in Maria's entire body.
Maria got up, and exchanged glances with Nico. She handed the sword to Nico, hilt first, but he shook his head.
"Keep it for now," he said.
"Wake my brothers and sisters," said Thalassos. "Something ancient is coming to this world. The ocean will not be enough."
Maria gazed upon the face of her god. His words chilled her like the lashing rain of an ocean storm, but his dream steadied her.
