Tag Archives: short fiction

Chapter 10 – Abraham’s Voyage, Part Two

Beginnings Project

992 words – I drew the short straw, but it makes a total of 2282 words with  part one so I got that going for me, which is nice…I guess.
It’ll be great if this enormous journey is continued, so don’t shy away from taking the next chapter (Miss A, I’m looking at you, yes I am) I hope that this continuation of yesterday’s chapter works well enough for whatever is to come!
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We took cover in the wheelhouse, fearing the bombarded sea might rise to drown us if the fire didn’t burn through the metal and destroy the ship first. The attack had been quick, but everything quaked, or so it seemed as we subdued to the sensation of full mayhem; the Jezebel groaned, floating unstable and we so did we, clutching to each other for support.  Jezebel herself roared wildly and pushed away her servant at the wheel and flexed her muscles to steer the thing straight. The strenuous expression grotesquely covering her beautiful features spoke that something was wrong and Zedekiah jumped to his feet, helping her unjam the stuck wheel.

Before I could join in their effort a sudden pull halted me at my step. As if a stronger feeling than self-preservation took over me – there was no fear, there had never been. Only an ultimate invincibility and the means to perform its miraculous effect on myself. A familiar throb pulsated at my temples, but this time the pure light that blinded the periphery of my vision and threatened a quick-tempered reaction spread throughout my entire body, engaging the same brutal fury as before, but with a purpose. I turned around and ran back outside neglecting Zedekiah’s choked shouts and curses.

The Jezebel was intact. Whatever mass had shaken her so vigorously had seemingly done so only to disturb her course and slow us down. But there was fire somewhere, an intense blaze that warmed the air to humidity and I smelled it through my flared nostrils. I looked over my shoulder and saw that the enormous fleet following us so closely had been half-submerged if not engulfed in flames; they had been cut off from us, dangerously far now. We floated ahead alone.

And something floated towards us.  Its presence, even though yet unknown, was certain and I walked cautious to the ship’s bow, watching, waiting. Above my head, Jezebel’s sphinx flag flapped restless against the light wind. Then it stopped and slumped on its pole.

I looked down, catching my shadow briefly looming along with me. The sea surface vibrated gently, but I couldn’t hear the splash of water, a sound that had become a constant companion, as familiar as my own heartbeat. The murky waters stirred heavily, ruptures growing in size and density.  The gloom dispersed, blurred shapes coalescing into shapes, then one shape, then a full visage of a long and narrow giant carved from the whitest material and carrying the harshest carven godlike creatures along its front. It was a single mast ship, but thrice the size of the Zebedee and twice that of the Jezebel.
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