The last of the Phoenix was torn to bits in the thrashing current. The crew clung to whatever debris they were tossed onto. From underneath the crew, the sea began to glow. It was like bioluminescence but shining bright green - pulsating with the swirling current coming deep from the sea floor. Vane caught eyes with one of his frantic crew on a single plank from the ship. “What hell be this, Cap’n!?” he yelled over the roaring of the waves.
“It’s the doorway to our fu…” Vane’s words were cut off. A giant black tentacle reached out from beneath the lad and violently pulled him under. Vane heard screams from others in his crew echoing around him. As he peaked over a larger swell, he had a glimpse - sea monsters - unearthly beasts who swallowed some of the crew whole. Cyrus clutched Davie in the water as the vortex tugged and spun them down and down.
Just above, the Lark began to circle the edge of the maelstrom.
Julius mouthed to himself, eyes wide and face white as snow, “The Devil’s Eye…”.
Each man prayed his last as the ship was violently sucked toward the bottom of the glowing whirlpool. Giant sea monsters silhouetted in the water with every green pulsating glow.
The vortex pulled the ship under. Julius’ crew gasped for air. The men felt themselves pinned forcefully on the ship’s deck as the whole vessel was sucked down to the final depths.
Flashes of green and white and then darkness came over the crew. In an instant, the ship was yanked upside down - the men pressed to the deck by centrifugal force. They sputtered and spat up water. Some moaned, and some sobbed. Now, in broad daylight, Cornelius painfully found his feet and looked for Captain Julius. He discovered the Captain slowly coming to, repeating, ”I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
One of the crew shouted, “Creature…monster…monsters! Off the port bow!”
Baransu Realm - Fukushū Bay outer islands - Day
Washed up on a sandy shore in the bright light of day, Cyrus and Davie began to come to, coughing up swallowed seawater. Cyrus crawled to Davie and checked on the boy; other than a bump on his head and a few nasty scrapes, he was fine. The remaining crew lay sprawled about on the beach, some floating lifeless in the shallows - their number decreased by half.
Where be we? The bastard was right! Cyrus thought to himself, confused and dazed as he surveyed the land.
He could smell a fire, but the island seemed deserted.
“Oi, Flint. Tend the boy,” he said to one of the crew on the beach.
He traced the smell of smoke walking along the white sandy beaches into the dense jungle lining the shore. Staying hidden, he spied Vane, sharing a fire with a dark figure. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things from the wreck. He wasn’t - the dark figure was ominous, almost inhuman.
Without turning around, Vane suddenly called out, “Come, Cyrus. Join us. And bring the boy.”
