On the grey pebbles of western shores, belonging to the lone isle of Himling, a young woman stood. Harsh winds whipped at her fair face and dark hair, and threatened to cut her. The piercing cold reached the very inner of her lithe frame, and chased away all hope of warmth.
Her boots stood in the shallow waters. Said sea was grey, and unforgiving. The beaming moon above, blocked out by dark clouds, forced the tide into a state of aggression.
The waves were monstrous, and dared Cordelia to challenge them. Far off the beach, a lining of snagging reef lay. It ran along only the western shores. Cordelia would have rather preferred to avoid it, but as life would dictate, she only found escape on this particular beach.
Nerves shone in her dark eyes, and matched the sea-storm ahead. A wooden sailing boat was rested next to her—ready at a moment's notice, to begin its journey ahead.
Glancing over her shoulder, Cordelia studied the wooden house behind. It stood spacious and dark, atop the green hill connected to the dipping beach.
Lightning cracked behind the house, and illuminated every scary feature. A little further off to the house, rested more in the grey pebbles of the descending cove, was a shabby beach shack.
Upon studying the house, Cordelia's mind was quickly set. She clenched her jaw, and turned her hardened eyes back to the merciless waves.
As the wind increased, Cordelia bounced a little on her feet. She muttered small words of encouragement to herself, and held the side of the boat.
Furrowing her brows in determination, Cordelia began rushing forwards. She pushed the boat along with her, and soon both she and it were charging through the grey sea.
In a heartbeat, she clambered into the sailing boat. In a most unpracticed manner, she grabbed hold of the mainsail's rope, and tugged it hard. The large white sail then flared open, and caught the wind beneath its one wing. Yelping, Cordelia was thrust forwards, for the boat too lunged into the sea.
Shivering, from both fear and the cold, Cordelia's teeth chattered. Nonetheless, she straightened herself quickly, and sat on the seat.
She looked up at the mainsail, and swallowed anxiously. It flailed and jolted in the wind—refusing to be tamed.
The more and more Cordelia sailed out from the coast, the more and more speed she gained. She then looked over the edge—a very big mistake.
The water was dark and deep, and white froth lined the surface. It swirled in a series of intertwining rips and currents, and lulled Cordelia into its drowning depths, like a cobra's eye.
She smacked her suddenly dry mouth, and slowly tore her eyes away. She instead looked ahead, where the coral reef lay. It was most evident, even in the dark, from the monstrous waves that crashed against it.
The reef acted as a barrier, of sorts—a prison was a more accurate term for Cordelia, however. She set her trembling jaw again, and mustered all the courage she had to spare. She needed to do this. There was no other choice, and there sure was no turning back either. She simply wouldn't know how to, even if she wanted to.
The increasing storm above the sea did nothing to ease Cordelia's nerves, as it threatened both thunder and lightning. Not long into the charge at all, and a heavy rain began to fall. It pelted and whipped at her. She felt blinded, at some points, for the rain hit her in the eyes—many times.
She squinted and spat cold water from her mouth. It was impossible to see the reef ahead now, for the rain made a mess of the waves. How could Cordelia possibly distinguish water from water? She couldn't, simple as that.
Next, Cordelia felt an increase in the wind. She soon began begging with the ocean, for it to show mercy. However, she would receive no such sympathy.
The ocean was a cruel mistress, with a dark past, and an even dimmer future. It took both her brother and father from her, and she, apparently, was next.
At the increase of the wind, the mainsail suddenly jerked to the side. The boat charged forwards at a hasty velocity, as it sloshed through the oncoming waves.
Cordelia then screamed in pain, for the rope attached to the mainsail went rogue. It zipped through her tight hands, and showed no signs of slowing down. Blood soon poured from her palms, and Cordelia had to bite down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying. Salt and fresh wounds, apparently, was not a good mix.
She simply could not hold on any longer, and within a second, she let go of the rope. In an instant, the boat lurched forwards. At the same time, Cordelia fell backwards. She was a fool for thinking she could befriend the sea that night, let alone tame it.
Everything was now completely out of her control. The boat quickly turned sideways, and barrelled into the waves at the wrong angle.
Cordelia hastily scurried to her feet, and yelled loudly at the boat, with a series of pleading words.
She ignored the searing pain in both hands, and grabbed the rope tight again. She tugged hopelessly, and strained through bared teeth with all her might—which, against the ocean, wasn't much.
As the rain continued on pelting down, Cordelia struggled against the harsh winds. However, soon, with a crack of lightning, Cordelia paused. The situation just got far, far worse.
Not too far ahead of her, maybe the distance of a short pine tree, the jagged reef lay. Cordelia exhaled in horror, as her eyes grew wide.
Quickly, she began tugging on the sail again, so that she could charge over the top of the barrier the correct way around.
However, sinking Cordelia's heart—faster than she would do in the water very soon—the rope snapped. In shock, she stared at the broken rope in her hand. Still gaping, she then lifted her haunted eyes from her hand, and looked ahead.
"Oh my goodness…" she whispered.
A large wave, brimming with froth and grey water, was beginning to surge above the reef. It grew bigger and bigger, with every second it rushed towards her boat.
Cordelia had no idea what to do—her father and brother were the sailors, not her. Should she try her luck, and jump from the boat? No, that was a terrible idea—she couldn't swim very well, not unless the moment called for so. Her boat was both her only hope, and her damnation in that moment.
Tears sprung to her eyes, as she watched the wave loom closer and closer. It was large, larger than any wave she'd witnessed before. Thunder rolled overhead, and taunted Cordelia, as if it were the sea's sadistic laugh.
Shining a spotlight on her doom, lightning cracked again. That seemed to jolt Cordelia into action, for once she saw the wave again—now taller than it was moments ago—she recalled her situation, and her feet.
She rushed towards the mainsail, and gathered what little rope left she could. She tugged on it pleadingly, and even hoisted it over her shoulder, and turned around.
Cordelia then leant forwards, with the rope over her shoulder, and put all her weight into yanking it. However, it appeared all her strength simply wasn't enough. She couldn't do this alone after all—that much was now apparent. She should've listened to that insecure voice in her head. Damn her father's influential stubborn streak—trust an Olsen to not quit.
She cried through the rain, as the thoughts of how scared and alone both her father and brother must have been, at the times of their individual drowning, flooded her mind—so similar in story to her own now.
As the wave rushed closer, Cordelia tried to numb her mind—tried to detach from the situation. Drowning sounded horrifying, but it'd be over in an instant, would it not?
It would feel like nothing more than holding your breath for a long time, until someone lit a match in the centre of your chest. That fire would then grow, until it filled your lungs, your throat and all the way to behind your eyes.
That fire would turn into ice, like pins and needles. Those pins and needles would then stab at your limbs, fingers and toes, until you saw stars. Finally, your world would fade, and the last thing you'd feel, would be cold.
Well, that didn't sound too bad, now did it? Cordelia didn't have time to dwell on it any longer, for the wave was on her.
She first heard its roar, like the deep guttural warning of a bear. She next watched it tower over her, to the point where it blocked out the moon above.
Cordelia screamed in fear, and cursed aloud. However, before she could shield her head, and drop to the deck, something extraordinarily unexpected happened.