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| The Fandi Isle |
Designed by Miatrylle Suggested Levels Description: The first hints of the sun rising in the east began to play across the horizon; brilliant ruby and orange rays shot across the sky, while the warm yellow hues seeped into the ocean, lighting it from within and changing its surface from the deep midnight of the night to the warm teals and blues of the day. With the coming of the day, enormous stretches of white sand beaches became visible, along with the slender, waving palm trees that marked the boundary between sand and forest. The warm wind pushed and pulled smooth clouds through the air, misting the entire island in passing and giving the plants and streams more water to feed on. All across the land, thousands of fragrant flowers began to open their bright faces to the world, sending the sweet aroma of nectar into the air. Bright and beautiful birds parted their curved beaks to sing the day into being, and dozens of brilliantly colored frogs leapt from leaf to leaf. The sheer beauty of the place was dazzling to see, thought the woman who observed it from inside her narrow canoe. Syriaen gazed at the island with mingled feelings of awe and wariness. Though its appearance was calm, beautiful, and innocent, the very fact that such a place was seemingly deserted, at least of all human or human-like civilization, alerted her sense of caution. Trained by the Imperial Guardsmen of the City of E'nat'dae, she was usually quite a match for any opponent that might cross her path. Still, anything that could keep so wonderful a place so deserted might seriously daunt her, she considered, as she eyed the smooth white beach before her. With a slightly rueful smile, she picked up her paddle and began to work her way toward the island. She'd always been a sucker for a good challenge. Deep within the rainforests of the island, its human inhabitants were fleeing the coming dawn, ignoring all of its beauty and thinking only of their lives. While the soft rays of light spilled across the sky, they were slipping into the deep tunnels that led to their underground homes. As the last of the women and children disappeared into the darkness, the remaining men and warriors pulled the heavy boulders into the openings, barricading themselves in. A single small boy waited just inside the entrance to the tunnel system, his large brown eyes wide and curious. His eager gaze passed over the faces of the warriors and guardians of the tribe, searching for someone. When his eyes fell upon the face of one seemingly ordinary man, they lit up with happiness. He waited for the man he was watching to reach him before flinging his lean little body into the waiting arms of his father. Scendi looked at his young son with scarred, tired, yet fond eyes. The boy, Rimo, was all that was left of his family. Though he loved the child, every glance into those trusting, innocent eyes brought back painful memories that he often fought to forget. Bitterly he looked around the dark tunnels, noting the ever-present dampness, the musty smell of the mold and slime that coated the walls and floor, and the dark, ominous shadows cast about by the sparsely placed torches that lit the way to the main caverns. Though Rimo was far too young to remember a time when the Sivilfandi tribe lived above ground, rejoicing in the splendor of days and nights on the Fandi Isle, his father did remember. Scendi would never forget those days of joy, light, and love. There had been a time when the Sivilfandi had slept through the night, waking with the sun each morning. But that was before. Scendi's worn face hardened above his young son's tousled hair as he recalled the events of the last two decades. Recalled how the foreign people had come, bringing their animals with them, then left after plundering the island's resources, leaving behind enough of their animals--dogs, they'd called them--to populate the island. The animals had grown feral over the years and had begun to hunt in packs, raiding the villages at night, stealing food and hunting the youngest and weakest members of the tribe. It had become so horrible that the tribe had sent to the mainlands for a strong magic-man, who had claimed that he could solve the village's problems. He had brought with him a small tan animal, called a mongoose. The man, Jidux, had told the tribe that this animal, the mongoose, was a ferocious hunter, often killing and eating snakes up to ten times its size. Jidux had promised to rid the island of the feral dogs by enlarging two mongooses, making them large enough to prey upon the dogs. The animals appeared to be tame and almost affectionate with the villagers, and Jidux was given permission to continue with his plan. Unfortunately, things went terribly wrong from there. No sooner had the mage enlarged the animals, making them each twice as large as a grown man, than the pair turned and killed him, the male mongoose swallowing Jidux whole. The villagers had been so stunned that they were taken by surprise, the giant animals turning on them and killing many of them before the others had escaped. In the fifteen years that followed, the mongooses had fed on humans, animals, and dogs alike, killing and devouring all they could catch. The humans that remained had created underground burrows, emerging from these safe areas only during the night, when the feared mongooses were asleep. Over the years, the wild dogs and the humans, each fleeing a much more horrifying enemy, had become tentative allies, and then friends. Though he had been only seven winters old when the first foreigners had come to the island, Scendi remembered them very clearly--and everything that had followed. He had lost his younger sister, Sivli, to a feral dog raid during the first years following the foreigners' departure, and then later, had lost his father to the mongoose attacks. And just two years ago, he had lost his beloved wife, Imisandi, to yet another mongoose attack. For though the mongoose seldom hunted during the night hours, an occasional stray would still be awake when the humans ventured out of their burrows, and the ensuing battles were both violent and devastating. A resilient people, the Sivilfandi had created new lives for themselves under the ground, managing to cultivate small gardens and still promote cultural and artistic advancement. Still, those like Scendi, who had lost so much, would never forget the old days. He and many others in the village still cherished hope that one day they would clear the island of the mongooses, either by killing them off or by finding someone to cast the counterspell of growth, reducing the animals to their natural size. Scendi carried Rimo through the winding tunnels, nearing the underground village. He gently stroked his sleepy son's hair, silently vowing that he would never rest until Rimo could play in the light of the sun without fear. The islanders only needed a little bit of outside help to turn the tide. All that remained was to wait and prepare, biding their time until the right help would come. As Scendi and Rimo settled into their bedrolls, Syriaen stepped onto the island beach. For just a moment, a slow, sleepy wave of energy rolled across the sand, surprising both Scendi and Syriaen before subsiding gently. Copyright © 1992-2018 Medievia.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. For more information contact: Webmistress: Soleil |