The Chronicles of Nikomedes Sakellaris

Chronicle I: An Auspicious Arrival

The sun beamed down overhead as the ship made it's way through the massive legs of the titanic statue that straddled the harbour. It had been a long trip for the young boy, and anything but tranquil, but he had finally made it across the Narrow Sea to the Free Cities. Having heard so much about the nations across the shore, he was standing at the rail, intent on their arrival- so it was that he almost didn't catch the approach of the mate until he was almost upon him.

He turned, about to make small talk, until he saw the look in the mate's eye, and the shackles in the hands of one of the other sailors. His sword was in his hand then, a short thing, almost like a child's toy. But the steel that glinted in the light was anything but. Even though he was quavering inside, his lessons stuck with him and he stood his ground confident.

"Ya don' need that, boy. We were just comin' ta take ya ashore- show you th' city," the mate said.

"What do the shackles have to do with going ashore?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Wha? That?" He looked over his shoulder. "Hells, boy! It's an initiation!"

"Like the one Tolliver tried to put me through when I came aboard?" He'd had trouble enough at the beginning- one of the sailors took a liking to him, and wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd given him a cut and a scar- he wished he'd killed him.

"He's gotten over that, and you should too. Now come along lad," he said, trying to get closer- but the steel was in the way.

"I'll go ashore myself, thank you kindly."

"A boy? By hisself? What'd you say ya were? Twelve?"

"I've seen 13 summers. More than enough to take care of myself."

"Damn, boy! You're a hard one's right..."

The boy noticed the man glance to his right, and cursed himself for even getting into a conversation with the mate.

"Take him! Now!"

More to his teacher's credit and his natural aptitude than any skill of his own, the boy chose rightly to dodge the man now leaping to tackle him and stabbed towards the mate, taking him high in the chest. That's when everything seemed to come apart. He landed half on the sailor that had tried to tackle him, and his sword was ripped from his hands. Going over backward in the rush, he fell over the edge of the ship.

The warmth of the afternoon sun didn't seem to carry to the waters, especially taken by surprise after such a fall as he had taken. The air rushed from his lungs as the cold waters enveloped him, and he had taken in two mouthfuls before he even knew what had happened. The wake of the uncaring ship continuing to port didn't help matters and it was a long moment before the boy broke the surface of the waters again. He'd thought the light beyond his reach, but had pushed himself to reach air once again. Now there, he was exhausted, and had no strength to do anything else. He tried to make for the distant shore, but made depressingly little progress before his limbs wouldn't obey him, and the urge to give up was just too strong to ignore. Darkness took him as he slipped beneath the water's surface...