Monster's Toy

Chapter 1 

Tania

I lost sight of the continent three hours ago.

I squint for any signs of visibility, my way forward only illuminated by cloud-to-sea lightning strikes plaguing the dark skyline.

The continuous swaying and bucking of the ship’s hull fills me with dread, an endless gale screaming in my ears and rocking the deck beneath me. Freezing rain won’t stop pelting my skin, and the ocean’s droplets are thrown back by the violent waves.

“I’m never going to make it.”

An urge to shiver overtakes me, but I can’t let go of the wheel. I am not truly lost as long as I am not in the water with the serpents whose long-necked silhouettes stick out over the horizon. In the brief flashes that clear up the distant fog, I think I see the monsters approaching me, getting larger.

I should have set sail at a more opportune time when the tides were softer and the skies clearer. This boat has veered off-course more times than I can count, and I still don’t know where I’m going to end up if I even survive.

The wind grows harsher still, thunder booming all around me. I prepare to be thrown from this boat, or struck by lightning, or swallowed by sea beasts. The air grows much colder, and I can see the rain freezing into ice before it hits the deck, bouncing upward and damaging the wood.

Peering out, I see the outline of a large landmass and feel immediate relief. I didn’t think I was going to make it to land. I look back at the empty chest that used to contain stolen food, but whose contents have been depleted for a day. My stomach grumbles.

But the landmass is rapidly expanding in my vision, almost too quickly for reaction.

I am approaching far too quickly, and I’m faced with two options.

Either I can steer away from the landmass and risk encountering the sea serpents, who loom larger in my view. Or I can keep going forward, brace myself for immediate impact, and risk running into a different continent entirely.

At this rate, I’m so off-course that I might even be back home somewhere.

I shiver at the thought.

Jerking the ship’s wheel from side to side to slow the wind’s approach, I rush my way to the helm, sprinting down to the main deck.

But before I can get to the sail, my right foot slips. I hurtle backward through the air, crashing my head onto a step. The pain in the back of my head is sudden and immense.

I feel my vision going black, frigid air cresting over me.

It’s been so long since you’ve really slept. What’s the harm in closing your eyes for a bit?

Rain coats the deck around me, producing a once foreboding sound that has now become white noise to me.

A loud, grating sound churns beneath me, growing in volume and intensity, but it’s better for me to sleep than worry about it…

***

Frigid air wakes me up. My teeth chatter and my eyes water. Forcing myself up with numb fingers, I behold a glimmer of warm colors around me… hues of red, orange, yellow, and brown. Upon forcing my eyes open and rubbing them wearily, I realize that I am surrounded on all sides by trees. The rain has stopped temporarily and given way to a bright blue sky filled with graying clouds.

This doesn’t look anything like home. I feel my constant pessimism turn into a moment of glee.

I made it!

I’m tempted to scream it aloud, but I don’t know who or what might be around, and the revelation that I must be on Prazh is bittersweet.

I step up and walk to the front of my boat, looking down. The hull is badly damaged, having collided with a layer of rocks and scraped ashore. Despite my best efforts, the boat isn’t even touching the water now. It just speaks to the strength of the wind that carried me here.

What’s worse is that as I step off the boat momentarily, moving carefully and peeling my eyes for signs of smoke or settlements, I find nothing.

I shuffle along the tops of rocks, avoiding stray, scuttling grancu. If there is anything to behold, it’s all obstructed by the sheer height of mountains in my way. I could very well even be on the opposite side of the continent.

Climbing back aboard, I move below deck, easing down the narrow stairwell. Bodies that I should have thrown overboard fill the cabin, a reminder of where I started this journey.

I have no means of keeping myself alive in this boat, though the beds in the small closet rooms do beckon me with their softness.

“Not yet,” I tell myself. “Maybe after you’ve found food.”

I reach the captain’s quarters and begin digging through the supply chest. I pull out an old, shattered spyglass, several commendations belonging to people I’ve never met, a canteen with a small portion of water remaining, and a solid metal paperweight shaped like an aquila, with chunks of its right wing lost to time.

I do not, however, find the map I swore I remembered being in here. Nor do I find a single ration.

I struggle to bring the canteen to my mouth, nearly spilling it out onto the floor with my shaking hands. It eases my painful throat, but I need to preserve its contents. If I can get a fire started, I might be able to purify some nearby water, but it would take considerable effort, and my focus is scattered.

Should I stay in this boat, I’m sure to die. Should I leave and get lost in the forest and manage not to starve, I’ll be subject to the whims of whatever creatures I encounter.

I shake my head.

“Maybe I celebrated a bit prematurely,” I mutter.

I don’t know if my odds are better here or on the water. There’s always a chance that human settlements might be just around the corner, but if I want to get a proper scope of the terrain, I’m going to need to scale one of these mountains.

The deck is covered in a thin sheet of ice, and this time, I ease my way forward, careful not to lose my balance again. I can see the ice melting very slowly, slush forming in some corners on the wooden surface. I stifle a chill, crossing my arms and huddling forward into the swath of trees.

Just take it one step at a time.

The grass beneath my feet is brittle and white, making it difficult to move forward unnoticed. I have no idea what sorts of creatures I might encounter in this dense forest, but if I want to scale the mountain and get a better view, the beginning of the pass is still ahead of me, and I’d do well not to draw too much attention.

I can hear the sound of a rushing river ahead. Though it’s a bit out of the way, movement is growing harder by the hour, and my energy is well past depleted. I can tell through the color-coated canopy that nightfall is fast approaching. If I can just find some fish and fill my canteen, my journey forward will be so much easier.

How did I get to this point?

I’m staking my life on the idea that I can create a better future for myself. My living conditions might have been miserable where I was, but at least my basic needs were somewhat provided for. Now I don’t know if I’m going to die before I reach one of the human settlements.

The trees have grown thicker and harder to navigate, and the sky is dark. While I attempt to step over the hard branches on the ground, they cut into my skin, adding to my growing array of bloody scars and gashes.

But as I part the branches, I can see that the slope leads downward, light reflecting off of the rushing river below. I don’t know if I’ll be able to climb back up this ridge, but I can see the faint outlines of creatures below drinking from the river, so it must be safe. I just need to wait for them to leave.

I squat down, keeping a branch lifted to allow myself a small view. My eyes count the fish jumping out of the water, swimming upstream. While I watch and wait, I formulate a plan, eventually seeing where the river hugs the mountain pass to the left.

From behind me, a great roar reaches my ears, and I can see two brown ursain proceeding forward through the brush.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

I pull my eyes from the river bank below to my more immediate threat.

My heart races.

If I stay here, they might find me, and I will almost certainly lose that fight. The distance between us is quickly diminishing. I know that they’ll smell me soon.

I’m surprised they haven’t already rushed me by now.

With their tails facing me, I limber up, bracing my body for quick movement. I can see the mountain pass ahead of me.

The larger ursain jerks its head suddenly, looking right at me and signaling to the other.

Change of plans.

I throw myself over the edge of the ridge, tumbling sideways down the slope. The creatures drinking from the stream don’t notice me, but the ursain, charging down to follow me, certainly do. Their eyes are cold and wild, their teeth exposed.

I look ahead toward the mountain pass. I can see my path forward clearly, but my survival is unlikely.