Chapter 1: Scene 1
The following is the first draft of the opening scene in chapter 1 of my upcoming novel which features an introduction to our protagonist, Joshua.
Chapter 1, Scene 1 (First Draft Edition)
It was a quiet morning on the western shore of Harmony, a humble village near the southernmost point of the Salvacian peninsula. The sun was just beginning its leisurely ascent, marking the dawn with soft hues of purple and orange that lit up the dark sky. Glassy water extended out from the beach as far as the eye could see, reflecting the flurry of colors spreading across the horizon. Standing atop the sweeping dunes overlooking the shore was a scrawny-looking boy with a basket in one hand and a net slung over his shoulder. He had stopped in this spot, as he did every morning, to take in the sunrise. His normally tense features were relaxed, his mouth curved upward in a soft smile–it was his favorite time of day.
He padded down the slope toward the water, his bare feet sinking into the cool, soft sand. The other fishermen would be lining up along the southern shores of the village by now, he thought. Sure, the fishing prospects were better to the south, as his father often reminded him, but it was quieter here–peaceful. A place to let his mind wander.
The boy dropped his gear in the sand at a safe distance from the rising tide and ran a hand through his thick dark hair. He looked on in amusement as a flock of sanderlings zipped across the beach, twittering excitedly, their tiny legs a blur of motion on the shoreline. All around him the world was waking. Out on the horizon a pelican glided across the water, its wings mere inches from the surface. Bait fish scattered every which way in the breaking waves with the shadows of larger predators in tow.
Gathering the net in his hands he moved closer to shore, the cool saltwater splashing up over his feet. With deft precision he cast his net into the break of a wave where he spotted the silver flash of fins. Pausing a moment to let the mesh sink to the bottom, he quickly pulled it ashore, yielding a dozen of the small, white-bellied fish that had become so familiar to him over the years. He emptied the net of the flopping creatures, deposited them in his basket, and looked toward the water once more.
The hazel-eyed boy set about catching his daily quota. With each cast of his net, muscle memory took over and his thoughts drifted further and further away from the secluded shore… He found himself far out to sea aboard a magnificent ship, its sails full of a steady wind, nothing ahead but the open ocean. The vast ocean transformed into the golden streets of Knightindale, the Salvacian capital; he was clad in intricate plate armor–an accomplished knight. Snow replaced the glamour of the city as he traversed through the treacherous Mystics with a powerful mage, the pair searching for a path through unexplored mountain ranges that teemed with the promise of untold mystery. Finally he sat on a grassy knoll in a beautiful forest, leaning in to kiss a certain auburn-haired girl…
He broke out of his reverie, that last thought lingering in his vision. Hours had passed–the sun had risen significantly behind him, its warm rays revealing the emerald color of the water. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he checked his basket. Almost full. Figuring one more cast would do it, he quickly gathered up the net and tossed it out, eager to get out of the sweltering heat.
The moment the net left his hands, he knew something was strangely different, like the threads of many lives were converging all at once. It felt as if the breeze drifting past carried a gentle whisper–a call toward something unknown. With urgency he pulled the net ashore, his sore muscles straining in protest. There in the center of the net amongst the fish lie an object most peculiar.
Mesmerized, he knelt down in the sand and untangled the object from the net. It was some type of glass or crystal, he thought, so clear that it seemed unnatural. The shape was like an oval, wider in the middle and pointed on the two ends, though not sharp. His calloused fingers reached out cautiously. As his hand closed around the crystal, he was surprised by the unnatural warmth emanating from it, and the resulting chill that rapidly spread through his whole body. An odd sense of sudden, irreversible change swept over him. The longer he held it, the more ominous it felt–like someone was watching him closely, their gaze causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. With half a mind to throw it back into the water, his eyes darted around suspiciously. After a long moment, he reluctantly pocketed the thing in the pouch on his belt, making a mental note to show Percival, his mentor, later.
With one last glance at the glistening water, he slung the net over his shoulder and lifted the basket of fish into his arms. He began his trek toward the market, wondering about the object in his pouch and why he was suddenly shivering in spite of the midday sun. The feeling waned and was replaced by a familiar dread that always accompanied the shift in scenery from slow beach to busy village. People were an enigma the boy had yet to figure out, complex and unpredictable. Chief among the list of enigmas in his young life was his father, Thomas. He dreaded seeing him most of all. He closed in on the market square and slipped behind the safety of his somber, detached mask. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to be anything but the usual routine.
Ethan Mark
