Saryeras
Tall average looking young man hardened by life in the mountains. Fascinated by magic, swords, and the tales of adventure. Feels out of place in a world that seems not to acknowledge his existence... that will change.
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Background: The Sea
Was it drugs or magic that had knocked him out. Regardless of the source, it started to wear off while flying through the air.
The feeling of floating while wrapped in furs was pleasant, peaceful. Like waking from the perfect sleep.
The ice cold water was anything but pleasant. The shock forced him fully awake. The water was colder than ice cold. Every seam and gap in the furs let in more of the soul drainingly cold liquid.
Only instinct kept him from opening his mouth and screaming with pain. The sea water was so cold it felt like it burned. His mined raced in panic. It seemed like forever before his training started to kick in, though in reality it was only seconds.
The situation was dire. Underwater and apparently sinking slowly. So cold that his limbs were already starting to stiffen. And only half a lungful of air. Oh, and the furs were wrapped so tight around him and tied with cords, so that even if his arms were not stiff, there was no way he could get them free to swim.
Like an extension of himself, he formed a hand of magical force. Mage Hand it was referred to in the text he read every night and fell asleep to. Every night reading the arcane spells until they were imprinted in his mind. Saryeras was going to rename the spell, Safe My Life Hand, if it got him out of this.
The Hand was much more nimble than his stiff limbs and fingers, but it didn’t have the same level of strength. Eventually, it managed to get one arm free.
Lungs convulsing to get fresh air, the boy swam to the surface with one arm, while the hand pulled him up by his hair. The progress was slow, so it was with barely a splash that his face breached the calm surface of the sea. The stale air burst from his lungs and great gulps of fresh air entered. Cold air. Air that was now directly lowering his core body temperature.
With desperation, his numb nearly useless free hand and the Mage Hand got to work on the cords and furs holding him in a tight bundle. In desperation, he used the only other spell he knew. A bolt of fire flew from his hand and hit his foot. His bare foot was so numb that he barely felt the heat, and even if it wasn’t numb, the bolt had been nearly extinguished after traveling through a couple of feet of water.
Soon, bolt after bolt was flying from his hand as he tried to maneuver his arm and hand in the right way to hit a cord. It was desperate luck that severed the cord around his knees instead of the knot tied at his chest. The knot at his chest served only to hold the branches of holly. The cord that started their wrap around his knees served to hold the furs tight.
Soon, he was free. Swimming like a drunk in a pigsty with limbs stiff with cold and being dragged by his hair by a magical blue hand, Saryeras inched up to a nearby ice flow. His real hand reached out, but even with something to grasp, his fingers wouldn’t close.
His body was now shaking uncontrollably and his mind was getting fuzzy. It grew dark, but he didn’t know if that was because he was losing consciousness or if his eyes had frozen shut. The Mage Hand winked out of existence, and without its help pulling on his hair, he again slipped beneath the calm waters of the sea.
Thirteen years old and dying, the boy’s last memory was of teeth wrapping around his shoulder and sinking into his flesh.
OK, it wasn’t the boy’s last memory, just his last memory in the water. His next memory was his eyes opening to see a polar bear staring down at him. Now, this was a more noble end for a Reghedman… to be eaten by a polar bear.
The face of the polar bear shifted to that of a dream. Saryeras could remember nothing more, not even of the dream of female Elven mages.
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