The Tellus Mage

Befuddling Rebirth

Lightning and thunder chased one another in the sky. Lightning flashed and disappeared spontaneously leaving behind the roaring thunder frustrated at its escape. Rain drops fled the clouds in fear of the harbingers of storms. The seas turned turbulent as the wind furiously howled, unwilling to be outdone by the flashy duo; it stirred up a tempest. Amidst the onslaught of this chaos, a tiny orange structure tried its best to navigate the deadly sea.

Inside this structure, 7 individuals were bundled up in blankets drenched in water. Only 2 of which wore life jackets, a woman with a bulging belly and an elderly man whose hollow eyes showed the graveness of their situation. The rest simply held on to the raft firmly as the white of their knuckles prominently showed. Amongst these unfortunate souls was a young man named Julian.

Julians light brown hair has long since turned many shades darker as the seawater splashed his face. His dark brown eyes scanned the raft with vigilance as he wearily eyed the other passengers. Aside from the 2 behind him who occupied the life jackets, he considered the rest a threat. There were three men whose features screamed their ill intentions and one other woman who was looking forward to grasp any opportunity given to her to survive. While Julian was no better than the opportunistic woman, he at least was not plotting to snatch the life jackets off of their current owners. In his eyes, Julians fate was sealed long ago, when he failed to secure himself a life jacket before evacuating the ship. And much like the four others, and he would most definitely die in this storm. Yet, the woman and the elderly man behind him, whom he got to know on the cruise ship, were different. Julian put his hands behind him defensively as he shielded his companions.

”You don have to do this! ” Julian shouted. Blood trickled down his throat as it bled. He was parched, no one had eaten or drunken a thing in a day and a half.

There was no reply, only scowling faces. Two of the men held him by his hands and the last delivered a mean punch to his face. Julian was no fighter, at best he could take a swing or two and be lucky enough to hit one of them. But in this situation, with minimal sleep and no food in roughly the last two days, he was not able to put up a fight at all. Before long, under his own muffled screams and those behind him, his vision blurred and his breathing became ragged and rough. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out, was the feeling of cold water on his skin as he

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