Hearts left at Sea
Chapter One: A Fateful Encounter
A strong heady sweetness filled the night air, accompanied by a crashing echo of waves hitting the shore. Sounds of youthful laughter could be heard as a preadolescent girl scurried away from the shore in an innocent game of tag with the sea. She kicked and splashed, her toes curling into the damp grainy sand, oblivious to the change of fate she would soon encounter.
Far off at sea a young boy stood on a wooden deck, while the ship beneath him was cradled by the ocean's gentle waves. He had been standing there for nearly an hour, simply listening to the sound of the calm night awaiting the sign that they had approached land. At the mere age of thirteen, this was the young boy's first real voyage out at sea. Oh how he couldn't wait until he would be able to set foot on land and explore unknown places; he had heard from his father of all the adventures he had experienced and could now barely contain his excitement as he himself awaited such experiences.
"Approchant terre!" one of the crew members shouted in french from the crows nest. Soon the ship was filled with the hussle and bussle of crew members preparing to dock the ship upon the unknown shore.
"Y'know mon chere, I was your age when mon père took me on my first voyage," the boy's father spoke placing a stern hand on his shoulder "and now it's your turn. I'm not letting the crew off of the boat until morning, however I'll let you get the first peak of the island, but I expect you to be back here before daybreak." The boy looked up at his father, excitement filling his azure eyes as he spoke.
The boy stepped foot on the island's beach and looked around ,absorbing his surroundings. He had roamed the beaches of Nice in his homeland before but even those luxurious shores were nothing compared to where he now stood. He took a moment breathing in the sweet air before he heard the faint sound of laughter from a distance. Intrigued, the young boy slowly walked toward the joyous laughter.
"No Mr. Petrel[1], you can't have any more krill tonight, you'll upset your tummy" a childish voice spoke in mock sternness. The voice came from a small island girl, one of whom quickly caught the interest of the young boy. Not wanting to startle her, he hid behind large leaves growing near the shore. She appeared to be conversing with a small black and white bird, perched upon her shoulder, laughing and skipping around. She seemed so content, so carefree, her childishness radiating off of her in a cool moonlight. She ran towards the shoreline, her tanned bare feet contrasting against the ivory sand. "See Mr. Petrel no krill for you! Hehe!" she repeated looking towards the bird, still perched upon her shoulder. The young boy couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of this little girl talking to a bird.
The girl turned around, hearing someone else's voice, startled. "Did you hear something Mr. Petrel?" she looked up at her bird companion. The girl began walking towards the floral growth which the boy was hiding in. "Hello?" she called out towards the growth. Nervously, the boy covered his mouth not wanting to get caught, yet the girl kept getting closer. "Hello..? Anybody there?" she called out once again, now only a few feet away from the boy. She peered behind the vegetation and caught sight of something strange, a golden strand. Curious she reached out and tangled her fingers in the soft golden strands of a ponytail and tugged, pulling along with it a very confused and startled boy.
"Ow ow owww ca fait mal! ca fait mal! arrête!" he cried out in french, placing his hands over his head in an attempt to free himself from the girl's grasp. The girl only tilted her head in confusion and tugged again, not understanding the strange sounds coming from the boy. "That hurts! Please stop!" he attempted again, this time in english in hopes that the girl would understand. Thankfully, she understood his accented English and released his hair from her grasp.
"Oh I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you" she quickly apologized, "I've never seen such strange hair before! Are you from another world?" the small island girl asked as she looked up in at him in amazement. She was immediately fascinated by his strange features. Every person she had encountered on her island shared her darkened caramel colored skin, almond eyes and dark hair with very few variations. Yet the boy before her did not posses skin of caramel but ivory, his eyes did not resemble the rich color of an almond but that of the clear oceans she loved to roam, and his hair resembled that of honey, which intrigued the island girl the most.
Noticing the girl's comment, the boy couldn't help but chuckle. "I am not from another world, non, but I am from somewhere far far away" At this the girl's eyes lit up with interest.
"Really?! From where? Who are you? Did you fly here on a giant birdy?! Does everyone have such strange eyes and hair where you're from and such funny clothes? Tell me!" the girl insisted now tugging at the boy's coat sleeve.
The boy smiled down at the girl, by the looks of it she couldn't be much older than ten which would explain her wild imagination. "Slow down slow down! So many questions at once ma amie!" the boy laughed a bit in amusement "I am François Bonnefoy, but you may call me Francis ma petite mademoiselle " He spoke politely kissing the girls hand "I am from a faraway place known to many as France, the home of romance and wonderful food!" he smiled softly at the girl, even at the age of thirteen Francis was already a hopeless romantic.
"How did you get here? Why do you look so strange and speak so funny?" The girl asked again, pulling up Francis's sleeve to get a closer look of it's strange pale blue fabric.
"Before answering your questions, may I have your name ma petite mademoiselle." he responded.
"Me? Call me Chelly! I don't like my whole name Michelle all that much, and why do you keep calling me a putee mademois-moissomething?" the girl beamed up at Francis and continued prodding him for answers. Francis proceeded to answer the girl's questions, explaining that his native tongue was French and how he'd come to this Island on his first voyage away from home. Michelle hung onto every word, interested in the strange world the boy described, a world of strange fashions, strange foods and something called a monarchy, all things of which little Michelle had never heard of before. They continued to converse with each other throughout the night until daybreak.
AN: So I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter, this is my first fanfiction so sorry if it's a bit choppy in chapter lengths (future chapters will hopefully be longer). Also I know very little French and have used a translator in addition to the tiny (microscopic) amount of French I know to make up France's conversations so I appolgize if it's oddly worded. Please R&R! Thank you :D
[1] Cape Patrel, the name of a bird native to the islands of Seychelles