Emerald Sky

It all started, strange enough, with a warning of sorts. The village drunk, Pete Richards had stumbled out of the bar and worked his way over towards the docks.

"Green sky in the morning, sailors take warning." he muttered to the captain of a fine looking passenger liner. The captain barely noticed him there at first, until he almost fell straight over into the bay.

"Old Pete, you never do learn do you?" he said kindly, straightening the man up so he was looking at him right side up. "It's already nighttime, you've drank the day away again. I suppose your old lady is gonna have your hide this time."

"Maybe, Francis, but not this day." he chuckled to the captain, glaring at him suspiciously.

Old Pete had been skulking about the dockyards for a great many years at this time. He used to be quite the proficient sailor but, for many years now he had refused to go back out, though no-one could precisely pinpoint why.

Pete's demeanor had changed with the new information that it was indeed not morning anymore. He now had the look of a man staring at something he had waited his whole life to see. It was almost as though the drinks had immediately worn off and he was now a man on a mission.

"Pardon me Francis, if you will. As you said it is getting late and my wife will not be pleased." and without another word he hurriedly whisked away toward his cabana off the beach.

About an hour later, Captain Francis was loading up passengers for the evening dinner cruise around the many surrounding bays and inlets of the area, when he saw an unusual sight. He saw what he was sure was a personal fishing boat heading directly out to sea. It was very old and rusted, totally orange in some places, but sure enough it was afloat and on the move. He was almost sure he recognized the ship, but it couldn't be. After everyone was aboard and he had run his cadences to the passengers, they themselves were off.

Francis knew his passengers well and he also knew the harbor schedule up and down like the back of his hand. He knew the passengers would never notice if they took a small detour, but that the harbor master would certainly notice the small boat gunning straight out into open water. The little boat was gaining speed however, and was almost out of sight now. Captain Francis suddenly noticed something he had been oblivious to before.

The green light that Old Pete had been warning of in his stupor was still present in the sky. This was certainly odd as the sun had been down for nearly an hour and a half. Then he noticed that the small boat seemed to be heading straight for the light. Francis wished they would stop, as he only wished to warn his fellow sailor of the trouble he would face if caught by the harbor master for sailing these waters without permission. He was worried though. If they went much further out of their way, the passengers would start to wonder what was going on. All of a sudden, it was like a switch flipped, both in the Captain's mind and, perhaps more so, outside.

The Captain had just put two and two together. Old Pete acting off, the strangely familiar old ship, the green light, which at this point had disappeared. He had to figure this green light had something to do with Old Pete turning away from the sea but, why was Pete heading after it now? Unfortunately he really wouldn't have time to ponder any of these realizations. Outside, it would seem, that a gale force storm had come out of nowhere to begin battering them. The ferocious winds were buffeting them from, what seemed like, all directions. The surf wasn't any kinder to them, as the waves were now forming on port and starboard sides of the watercraft, in 25 foot swells at a time.

Francis knew his boat couldn't take much more of this. He also knew what this must mean for Old Pete and his haphazard old boat. But sure enough, as he squinted to look out best he could, he could just make out Pete's tiny ship bobbing over the top of a particularly large swell. The passenger liner made an awful sort of creaking noise as it was once again rammed by a large wave. He had decided, right then, to turn the ship around and head back for port, if they could. But to his dismay, the problems were only just beginning.

Stretched vast and tall before them, was a wave unlike they had ever seen; it must've been at least 80 feet tall. The only chance any of them stood was to try and get over it. If a wave that size crested over the boat, they would be ripped apart and cast into the unforgiving waters below. Francis hit full ahead on the controls and charged the wave as best he could. They began to climb it, gaining ground bit by bit. As they were nearly at the top, Francis observed mournfully as Old Pete's boat tumbled back off of the wave and backwards past them. The captain's eyes widened with horror as he looked back to see the old fishing schooner being swallowed whole by a fierce whirlpool at the base of the wave. Turning his gaze back upwards, he could see the wave beginning to crest over top of them. They had nearly made it but all for naught. Francis closed his eyes and accepted his fate as the wild tempest took them under.

It was unclear how much time had elapsed when Captain Francis, soaked head to foot and rather chilly, came to on the rocky shore of an underground cavern. It was rather damp all around, and seemed as though the place would normally be full of water right up to the ceiling. He glanced around the large cavernous space, which was clearly natural but, it did seem as though humans had shaped this place at one time or another. There were a series of mysterious carvings on the walls, seemingly depicting a journey of sorts, ending in what was unmistakably a treasure chest in the final scratches etched there.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had been running a passenger service and he should check the twisted remains of his ship for survivors. To his utter amazement, there was no sign of anyone having been on the ship that evening. No belongings, no people, not so much as a piece of clothing could be found. Then, through the muffled silence he was experiencing, he heard footsteps approaching him. He wheeled around, anxious to see who could be down here with him, then sighed with relief.

Old Pete was striding, half-limping, across the rocky floor towards him. He looked worse for wear but grateful to be alive. He plopped down on a large, more rounded stone and motioned for Francis to join him. A million questions flooded the captain's mind as he cautioned over to the stone to join his old friend.

"Francis, I am so glad you are here with me for this moment." Francis looked at him questioningly and so he continued on. "This place is one I have been aware of for some time. When I was a boy, my grandfather would tell me old stories and legends of the area, particularly of the sea. One I was always particularly fascinated with was the tale of the Emerald Sky. Long ago, parts of the undersea shelf, out beyond our harbor, were occasionally above ground. The people would traverse out to these regions and provide offerings to the God of the sea, in hopes that this would protect them from damaging storms and tides. For years and years this went on, but eventually the grounds became unreachable. Legend states that the Sea God eventually betrayed the unassuming townsfolk and drowned the island in a seven day storm. Since that odious betrayal, a legend in and of itself formed about one who would someday reclaim the lost wealth of these people, and here we are."

Together they rose slowly from the smooth stone and strode towards a small archway on the far side of the chamber. It was old and dank and quite dark, though was dimly lit by undersea fauna that have developed here. At the end of the passageway, they entered a larger circular space that was lit ominously in green. Francis couldn't help but feel more optimistic as this space was lit better but, he couldn't help but worry a bit as to how they would return home.

At the center of this grand space was an altar of sorts. It was crudely carved from the bedrock and was very unceremonious; however, sitting upon it was a large chest. The chest itself was waterlogged, deteriorating and was clearly untouched for a long time. They approached the chest and Pete put a hand to the lid.

"You ready? '' he asked Francis steadily.

"Ready as I'm going to be," Francis replied.

Old Pete lifted the lid of the chest open and a bright light flashed before them. Inside the chest were hundreds of emeralds and gold coins. Enough in value to bring wealth to all who lived in the small cove town. Francis approached the chest and both men reached to touch the treasure. As soon as they did though, the same bright green flash erupted from the chest and suddenly, everything was moving.

Francis couldn't really make sense of what was happening. He felt as though he was flowing through water but he was completely dry. Blinding light swirled and surrounded him and before he knew it, everything went still.

There they were, safe and sound, inexplicably on the docks again. The chest and its contents had seemingly made the journey with them. Their respective boats were shored up at the docks again as well. They shared a look of bewilderment and together hoisted the treasure off to spread to the town.