Int. Vallyn
A man's weathered boot collides with blackened sand. Winds howl profusely, carrying specks of dust through the eerie atmosphere. The waves ahead push towards the shoreline back and forth in powerful strokes. A single white moon illuminates the man's sloped path downwards, creating a rippled reflection atop the ocean's waters.
The man (30s) named ERIK appears weary and gaunt with a terrible glint in his eyes, a look of near insanity. He dons a white tunic now covered in grime and tattered at the edges, and on his legs brown trousers haphazardly stuffed into his leather boots. His body shivers against the ice cold winds blowing from the arctic waters below. He then surveys the beach's landscape and begins to mutter strange prayers underneath his breath (indiscernible to the audience).
The longsword in a sheath at his side weighs him down hindering his progress towards the water. The sword doesn't seem to have met a foe... yet, instead covered with solid ice. Erik hasn't eaten for days, instead searching the ends of land and time for the Sable Seas (the alleged home of sirens--RAVINES--and magical sea creatures alike). He's found them, or at least he prays to the Raven he has.
Finally reaching the bottom of the sandy cliff, he drops to his knees and runs his hand through the black sand. The specks fall through his fingertips, disappearing faster than wind. He can almost feel a warmth in the sand that he yearns for silently.
Suddenly, he rips a part of his already torn shirt off and creates two makeshift balls of cotton in his hands. He stuffs them both in his ears deep within, hands shaking.
Shuffling towards the shoreline, he peers beneath the waves hoping for a sighting of the sirens. When nothing emerges, he fumbles inside his trousers' pocket and pulls out a wooden horn carved with fish and half-humans with scaly tails instead of legs on the surface. Taking a shaky breath in, Erik blows the horn.
Nothing appears for a time. The water is still. The wind has stopped howling. Erik grows impatient and skims his hands against the water. It's so cold, his fingers turn blue and he backs away in fear. As he stares at his hands he suddenly realizes that snow has begun to fall. Each white speck falling sends sharp pains through his body.
He cries out in frustration and anger and begins to turn around.
Yet in his peripheral vision, he catches a dark figure slithering beneath the waves, a feat impossible for a twofolk like himself. Instead of joy, he feels determined. He unsheathes his sword, the ice falling like glass beneath him.
ERIK
Show yourself!
He's made sure to cover his ears well. He knows the siren's lore all too well.
A beautiful "woman's" head emerges from the waters. Erik can see her skin reflecting in the waves, surely not blue like his. Her hair is black. She appears normal if it weren't for her eyes, blacker than the water's depths below. She smiles and looks at the man above her. She's young.
He shakes as he stares into her bottomless eyes. Before he knows it, she begins to sing a sweet melody but only she is entranced by her song. Erik raises his sword and cuts her down before she can finish, a sudden slice to the neck. He is not bewitched by its curse. He cannot hear anything.
Her dead body nearly sinks beneath the ocean before he rushes forward and pulls it out. The silver blood of the siren now covers the longsword. The droplets surround him, splattering against his clothes and hands. He doesn't feel the coldness of the waters anymore. Her blood heals all.
No comments:
Post a Comment