‹ Prequel: The False Vampire
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The Blue Scales
Prologue
A tree grows from a seed much like the minds idea begins to grow. First the idea is planted, and if nurtured begins to expand through the nooks and crannies of one mind, until all that can be seen are the branches, and the roots forgotten into the past, beginnings forgotten but still influencing the mind of the bearer.
How could he know, that for as long as he could remember, he wanted to be a surfer. How could he know that his decision would affect his life as much as it already had?
What started as a mild idea had grown, now landing him in the top twenty of surfers in the state? The passion had grown like a weed, he himself unable to contain the passion no longer.
He stared out into the ocean, a board propped underneath his arm. The board was sleek, though slightly grainy, sand having covered with board with the miniature crystals.
Overhead the morning sun beat on the top of his head, its warmth caressing his scalp. Seagulls barked their morning melody and waves danced to the beat of the ocean.
This town may be small, but in no way was it lacking. Definitely not to the beach that was so pristine in nature, so raw as the waves formed the perfect barrels that it had become famous for.
A wide grin stretched across his face, the motion pulling at his exhausted face. How many times had he grinned these past two days? He had definitely lost count.
Checking his watch, the numbers red numbers glowed back at him. 7:30 Am. With his mind made up, the weeds twisting around his mind even tighter, he pulled his loose shirt over his head, revealing the flat, toned sun kissed skin, which he could only achieve after many years of hard work.
The next item to be flung onto the sand was his shoes. As the feeling if freedom took flight, Seamus ran towards the ocean, board tucked under his armpit.
His feet pumped forward, sand sinking between his toes and flying behind him.
When his flesh met the water, tingled exploded through his body. He a man, for only one second, became part of the water.
His face was set in a serious expression, though in his mind he was laughing with glee. The ocean was a place that was familiar to him, something that grew to be apart of him.
It was also a part that was essential to all his kind, something that if changed, would shake the foundations of the individual worlds that people had created surrounding them.
Seamus, among others was a surfer, though by which right he was unsure. All he knew was what it felt like to be in the water, riding it as the tunnel of water curled over his vertical frame and then carried him to the shore.
When the water was only up to his chest, he surged onto the slick, water drenched board. Paddling with sure strokes, he let the fiberglass guide him to the place where he needed to be first.
The waves were generally quiet, a decent one only rolling in when about four or five sets had long passed. Over the waves, the tops of other surfers’ heads could be seen bobbing in the waves. The water was a pristine blue, expanding as far as the naked eye could see. Maybe one hundred metres away, dolphins danced above the horizon.
Seamus sighed as he watched them, a sense of serenity filling him. Sensing that there would be no waves for a while, he swam back to shore.
The beach had started filling with a small amount of people, only two or three. Seamus assumed that these people were the ones who went for daily swims, something that he himself loved.
As he walked up the beach, he relished in the feeling of the sand between his toes. With a slightly disappointed sigh, he chucked the board that he had tucked underneath his arm onto the sand, spraying the tiny grains of rock onto his towel.
Bending over, he picked up the towel, shaking of the small crystals that had weaved themselves into the fibres of the material. For a moment, he stood there, transfixed as he watched the sand fall to the ground, blending in once more with the thousands.
The tinkling sounds of dolphins chattering broke him out of his reverie. Never taking his eyes away from the very spot he had been entranced, he began to make the motions to dry himself; Ready to face the dawn of the new day.
How could he know, that for as long as he could remember, he wanted to be a surfer. How could he know that his decision would affect his life as much as it already had?
What started as a mild idea had grown, now landing him in the top twenty of surfers in the state? The passion had grown like a weed, he himself unable to contain the passion no longer.
He stared out into the ocean, a board propped underneath his arm. The board was sleek, though slightly grainy, sand having covered with board with the miniature crystals.
Overhead the morning sun beat on the top of his head, its warmth caressing his scalp. Seagulls barked their morning melody and waves danced to the beat of the ocean.
This town may be small, but in no way was it lacking. Definitely not to the beach that was so pristine in nature, so raw as the waves formed the perfect barrels that it had become famous for.
A wide grin stretched across his face, the motion pulling at his exhausted face. How many times had he grinned these past two days? He had definitely lost count.
Checking his watch, the numbers red numbers glowed back at him. 7:30 Am. With his mind made up, the weeds twisting around his mind even tighter, he pulled his loose shirt over his head, revealing the flat, toned sun kissed skin, which he could only achieve after many years of hard work.
The next item to be flung onto the sand was his shoes. As the feeling if freedom took flight, Seamus ran towards the ocean, board tucked under his armpit.
His feet pumped forward, sand sinking between his toes and flying behind him.
When his flesh met the water, tingled exploded through his body. He a man, for only one second, became part of the water.
His face was set in a serious expression, though in his mind he was laughing with glee. The ocean was a place that was familiar to him, something that grew to be apart of him.
It was also a part that was essential to all his kind, something that if changed, would shake the foundations of the individual worlds that people had created surrounding them.
Seamus, among others was a surfer, though by which right he was unsure. All he knew was what it felt like to be in the water, riding it as the tunnel of water curled over his vertical frame and then carried him to the shore.
When the water was only up to his chest, he surged onto the slick, water drenched board. Paddling with sure strokes, he let the fiberglass guide him to the place where he needed to be first.
The waves were generally quiet, a decent one only rolling in when about four or five sets had long passed. Over the waves, the tops of other surfers’ heads could be seen bobbing in the waves. The water was a pristine blue, expanding as far as the naked eye could see. Maybe one hundred metres away, dolphins danced above the horizon.
Seamus sighed as he watched them, a sense of serenity filling him. Sensing that there would be no waves for a while, he swam back to shore.
The beach had started filling with a small amount of people, only two or three. Seamus assumed that these people were the ones who went for daily swims, something that he himself loved.
As he walked up the beach, he relished in the feeling of the sand between his toes. With a slightly disappointed sigh, he chucked the board that he had tucked underneath his arm onto the sand, spraying the tiny grains of rock onto his towel.
Bending over, he picked up the towel, shaking of the small crystals that had weaved themselves into the fibres of the material. For a moment, he stood there, transfixed as he watched the sand fall to the ground, blending in once more with the thousands.
The tinkling sounds of dolphins chattering broke him out of his reverie. Never taking his eyes away from the very spot he had been entranced, he began to make the motions to dry himself; Ready to face the dawn of the new day.