Legend of the Misty Raven (Chapter One)

Chapter One - A Haunting Past

Jeremiah tossed and turned in his meager cot. The dreams didn't come often, but when they did, he took notice. They always centered on his father, Jacob, aboard his family's trading ship, The Brass Pelican.

"She's not going to hold, Jacob, we've lost her!" a desperately shaken mate calls to his father, struggling valiantly against the pull of the wheel.

"Then take to the rafts if you feel your chances are better there!" Jacob snapped back from behind the wheel, eyeing the waters for some sign of relief. His light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail wavering in the wind while his strong, muscular arms held the wheel. His deep brown eyes scanned quickly as he adjusted his footing on the wet deck to make the necessary steering adjustments. A slight frown took to his face, as hope seemed to melt away instantly.

In the next moment, the wreckage of the vessel lay scattered, bobbing atop the waves with the nameplate of the vessel floating to the top.

Jeremiah snapped out of the restless slumber and called out in horror, only to stop shortly when the realization it was but a dream entered his consciousness. Madelyn, his mother, opened the door abruptly and entered the room.

"What is it, Jeremiah? What is wrong?" she called with concern from her soft, caring lips. Her piercing blue eyes looked over her visibly shaken son for some answers. Madelyn was a delicately framed woman, nowhere near the strong type of her husband. In her, however, was the gift of compassion, which can be stronger than many men if it is in need.

"It's... it... it's nothing. Was only a dream," Jeremiah offered from his cot but seemingly drenched in sweat.

"Your father?" Madelyn probed, tilting her head slightly for some reassurance that answering the question would be ok.

"Yes, mother, it was horrible... The Brass Pelican... It was lost!" despair took over Jeremiah's face as he tried to explain before he lost the nerve to.

Madelyn politely chuckled. "Your father has the blood of the dolphins and whales in him, I am sure. If any were to hold a vessel together, he would be the one to do so. He returns tomorrow, then your fears can go out on the next shipment."

With that, Madelyn wiped the sweat from her son's brow and replaced it with a single, loving kiss. Rest finally came to Jeremiah as he slept the remainder of the morning in peace.

Living on the eastern side of Stormfront was more of a necessity than a symbol of affluence to them. The Bay of Thieves to the east was kept in check by the town's tall, fortified wall. High off to the west, the keep itself overlooked the town growing every direction but to the north. Upon the town's establishment, the founding fathers deemed it necessary to never breach the woods in that direction for wildlife hunting purposes. To the south and west of the keep, where most of the less fortunate families lived, lay the town's original construction area and the rural farmlands, respectively.

The air was crackling with excitement for Jeremiah as he passed the covered bazaar on the way to the docks. It was the same as any other day his father was expected in. The fruit stands and trinket peddlers might as well have been peddling mud that day. Jeremiah had little interest in anything but the dock and the arrival of the Brass Pelican.

The pylons of the southern dock were the safest place to wait the arrival of the ships. The dock itself was in dire need of repair. The taxes weren't as high on this dock as they were on the well-kept northern dock. Despite Madelyn's concerns about its safety, Jacob was able to show her how using the cheaper dock could afford them the house in the better-patrolled and much safer eastern portion of the city. The only times the dock was ever used was in loading and unloading... and waiting.

The games of the young while they are passing time usually are harmless. While there seemed to be little damage in it, Jeremiah passed many an hour jumping from one good board on the dock to another, faster and faster. Despite the many chances he had, he never fell in the water. He imagined himself in a flashy duel with a villainous pirate, defending the town and saving the Stormlord's daughter in the process. Taunting his imaginary foe while commencing the imaginary duel was a requirement to playing the game. The passing watch took great lengths to take their breaks within view of the brave defender and cheer him on. No one would dare get past him on his watch, they would muse as they lingered perhaps a bit longer than they should.

A dozen passes of the watch, at one bell apart, found the valiant defender slowly giving up defense for scanning the darkening horizon for signs of a sail, anything to disprove his dream and credit his mother with another time she was right. Hope faded with the sun, as the shadow cast upon the bay slowly became just a dimming of the sky itself.

"Jeremiah? Are you ok, lad?" a concerned watchman asked in passing.

"Yes, Sir!" Jeremiah responded. "My father just probably got turned around in a fog somewhere and was waiting for the stars to guide him home."

The watchman solemnly nodded; though he was certain Jeremiah was trying more to convince himself of that story than anyone else. He frowned slightly, certain it was concealed from Jeremiah's view by the shadows and turned around.

"Ship ho!" Cried the wall watch above. The watchman spun around to look at Jeremiah, whose eyes began to light up with that call.

"See? I told you, Sir! It is my father!" Jeremiah stated pointing out to the water. The watchman smiled broadly to him and went on about his rounds.

The invigorated Jeremiah took back to defending the town from the imaginary foe until the ship grew in size in the bay, and then sat on the pylon awaiting his father. The Brass Pelican looked a bit haggard from the trip, he could see some sail damage in the moonlight, and the mast looked completely different, as if it were an emergency mast. That would explain why it took so long to get back to port, too. Everything was explained then the boat turned towards the northern dock.

"Maybe with the damage, father thought it best to take the sturdier northern dock. Perhaps his gangplank is a bit damaged and he needs all the footing to unload he can get," Jeremiah hypothesized and made his way off the pylon and around the town to the northern dock.

As tired as he should have been, his feet took him to the docks fairly quickly. His stride increased until he walked under the archway and saw the boat in question. Whatever that boat was it certainly was not the Pelican. What's more, it was apparently hauling junk! Distorted pieces of wood and shreds of fabric came off the ships deck and onto a pile on the side of the dock. His father hauled spices and sugar and took the nastiest dock and this ship carrying junk took the northern one. I just did not make sense.

Guards gathered around the wreckage noticed Jeremiah getting closer and one called out, "Hold him back, take him back to his house!"

That just amplified Jeremiah's curiosity one thousand fold as he nimbly jumped from pylon to parts of the wreckage and more wanting to stay away from the guards until he has seen enough to understand just what was going on. The guards closed in and he took up a board from the wreckage to hold them off.

The guards suddenly froze in shock as Jeremiah tried to ascertain just what the look was about. Had to be blood on the board he held to hold them off. Had to be something so frightening grown men would stop their mad scrabble to just stand there with a look of... sorrow? Confusion demands answers at times so Jeremiah flipped the board down into his hands to see just what was so scary about it.

"The Brass Pelican" painted across the board in a flourish as only his mother could do. Jeremiah, spent emotionally, fainted on the spot.

"Gather him up, men," The watchman ordered. "It seems he found our answer for us. Now, he and his mother will certainly have more questions. The rest of you find what you can from the debris and report any findings immediately to me at the Michaels residence."

"Yes, Sir!" responded the bulk of the crew while the watchman, Jeremiah and the two guards supporting his lifeless body walked down the street into the night.

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