Holy water cannot help you now ►
In the beginning there was naught but She, the ocean. And in the end She prevailed; cold, wet, dark. Ossian slowly woke from the everlong black with a head that spun like a bottletop and a body immersed in throbbing pain, blinking thrice to chase away a faint fog clouding his vision. Memories of a recent past formed lazily, as though reluctant to reveal themselves to their disorientated architect and as he struggled to piece together both past and present, his vision finally began to return. A breath; weak lungs gratefully hoarding salt-drenched oxygen until at last, finally, the boy opened his wide eyes.
Jagged pale earth and rock soared skyward - looming over him with hulking shoulders, casting spectral shadows over the sand upon which he found himself sprawled. The cliffs eyed him and he eyed them right back, ebony lips parting to offer a greeting only to find his throat constricted and cracked with sandy brine. Where was he? What had happened here?
Ossian closed his vast eyes, fighting away the opaque confusion with a trembling hand, lunging through the recesses of his head until at last the memories began to assemble. Images of himself wandering hopelessly upon his childhood shores played on and on, watching the tears staining his soft sable skin until with one final stumble across the bay he unearthed an alien discovery: a small old boat, buried beneath the grey sand. The boy recalled wondering just who this little vessel had belonged to, and why they had abandoned it so? He had felt a dull pang of sadness; what a melancholy tale this ship might have endured following the loss of its creator and master. And then that star-haired child had made a choice, one that would change everything, or perhaps nothing at all.
With only a (now lost) threadbare bag filled with a precious assortment of shells he and Ama had collected over the years to accompany him, Ossian had set sail. Where all else had failed he knew that it was to the ocean he could turn to for deliverance, be it in death or life. And my, he had come close to losing both. The sea had raged; tossing and shattering his brittle raft until he was tossed into her blue murky depths. The final memory came in the form of pressure, salt, and a gentle ebbing darkness fading to black. Yet, still she had spared him - for here he lay, on this foreign shore with tangled limbs and a quivering ribcage. His charcoal coat was wet through, and it began to dawn on the young man just how cold he truly was. On thin uncertain legs Osi rose; as a child Ama had once called him bambi on ice and as it was, the saying had never been more true.
At last, Ossian stood. A brilliant chromatic sunset had begun to douse the horizon as he gazed out over the ocean back to a life that no longer existed and in that moment he felt quite tremendously lost. The metres of his endless bleach-white hair shook as he turned away from the sea, blinking away the terrible sting of emotion. This strange wild land leered at the boy, and Ossian thought he had never felt so alone as he did right here and now.
NOTES: ok this is so subpar but he's a totally new boyo for me and i struggle with first threads ;-; open to any Duskians that will initiate and recruit this little lost bean c:
