The waves are dark and tall, raging monsters without faces that roam the surface of the sea just to crash down and dissolve into nothingness. It's cold, cold enough to take away the life of any who dare to enter its waters.
The Dark Sea is as it's name wills it, nothing but a land of terrible happenings and creatures of myth. They hide in it and thrive in its endless night, for no day will show it's face past the thick rain clouds that are ever permanent here. No gentleness can cross the thunder that lingers after it has long since passed. It is no man's land, and no men who have a hold of their bearings sail its dangers.
Amid the waves, drifting without direction and lost to everyone, even themselves, floats a plank of putrid wood that caries two ghostly figures. Their skin is blue like the dead, their eyes are far away and linger in times long gone, times that had filled them with despair and terror, of a ship that sailed where no ship ought to sail.
These ghostly figures used to be a man and a woman, in another life -when there was life to be had- they were a king and a queen. Now they know not who they are or who they used to be; there is only endless waves of dark frigid water that is the only thing they can feel.
Wisps of nothing, blue and translucent, like tinted glass they exist as barely more than a cloud of mist. Who they used to be matters not to them. They only know the Dark Sea, and a terrible thing that happened years and years ago.
The waves are dark and tall. In the never ending waters of this sea no one but creatures of myth and those who are dead can ever hope to inhabit it. And even then specters can hardly be expected to live when they are dead themselves.
Next chapter: Here comes the angst train choo choo mutherfukerssss.