Bloodlines of Archaea I. Afira

“Good morning,” I said, semi cheerfully, dropping our anchor after four hours of sleep each. My cloak blowing in the gentle wind. He groaned as he sat up from his uncomfortable sleeping position. “I’d say we’re around five hours to the next island,” I said, my stomach growling. I dug around, then picked up a melon. I held it, for a moment, studying its features, then deciding how best to cut, sliced it open with a dagger, handing half to Akuma. He thanked me as I bit into my half, feeling the cool, sweet juice as it slid down my parched throat. The sun was rising, as I felt a deep longing to see Ember, again. I looked down but said nothing.

“We need water, too,” he said, breaking my silence and biting into his own melon. “We can live off of fruit juice for a while, but eventually, we will need water.”

I looked up and agreed, saying, “When we get to the first island, we can find someone to trade some of this food for water.”

After our meal and planning, I asked to see his hand before we moved on. He gave me his hand, remarking at the rising temperature of my own. I ignored this, with a worried smile, and concentrated on gently unwrapping his hand.

“Does it still hurt?” I asked, holding his hand in mine, as I looked carefully at each feature, from the scabs on the once bleeding parts, along with his pink callousses.

“Just a little,” he said, keeping his hand still.

After fully inspecting his hand, I said, “I’d keep it wrapped, to keep from splitting your skin anymore,” I said, turning the makeshift bandage over, and carefully rewrapping his hand.

Once I was finished, I pulled the anchor up and once again grabbed my oar, taking one last look at the sky before shifting my concentration.

We rowed and rowed for what felt like days, our hands began to ache, and our stomachs longed for food, but we kept rowing, checking our map once in a while, making sure we were still on track. I began to worry we had sailed past the island, as the journey had been so long. I looked out into the ocean, my thoughts drifting. I began to think of Grandma Lilly and the Fire Flowers she had tried to grow for years, never quite getting there and having to spend hours looking for the precious flower.

“There it is, land!” He yelled. Startled, I jumped and looked up, tearing myself away from my painful thoughts. Sure enough, there was truly an island, just in front of us. I looked at our map.

“The Island of Amotoga.” I said, watching the landmass in the distance, as it became larger and larger gradually.

“We can trade in the morning and then rest for the night. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, at dawn” he said, a look of hope in his eyes.

“What is it with you and dawn?” I asked, playfully. “Why you gotta be so mysterious? How’s about we leave at lunch?” I asked, picking up my oar.

He looked at me, smiling goofily, and then saying in a deep voice, “because. I like to eat my food when I’m rowing. It settles better,” he joked. Picking up his own oar, and beginning to row.

“Fine, but we’re supposed to be rounding up an army, so if you can do that by sunrise, so be it,” I said, still joking, but reminding him of our obligations.

We continued to joke in such a manner until reaching The Island of Amotoga, where we docked and tied our boat. Akuma climbed out and reached out his hand to meet me.

An unfamiliar voice yelled, “stop, invaders. Show yourself, hidden one. Reveal your face, or we will shoot.” I looked up, realizing there were people in the trees, bows drawn, arrows pointed directly at us. I glanced nervously at Akuma, who put his hands in the air, unholstered his sword, and dropped it to the ground.

I pulled back my red hood, revealing my shiny, charcoal black hair. I looked into the trees. “What is your name, hidden one?” The one who had yelled before asked from their perch upon the trees.

I summoned up all my confidence, yelling, “I am Afira, queen of the Island of Skyfire. Our world is in trouble, we need an army if we have any chance of defeating the shadow creatures.” The soldiers of the Island of Amotoga gasped at my words. I kept my field of view chained to the trees, penetrating the great leaves. At this, the bows were lowered, and three soldiers swung from the trees, and landed gracefully on the soft sand, without making a sound. I couldn’t see their faces. They wore large masks with the head and teeth of a gorilla. The first removed their helmet, revealing the soft face of a woman. Her hair fell from its place inside the helmet. The other two did the same, revealing their own faces both soft, with quiet features.