Deviant Muses: Sept. 2006 (Picture #3)
Title: Storm Surge
Word Count: 447
Rating: G
Iolaus stood at the bow of the ship and looked toward the eastward horizon. The Ionian sea was calm; so calm, in fact, that he hardly felt the movement of the ship as it sliced through the water. He could almost imagine that he was standing still and that it was actually the islands that were slipping by like giant sea creatures made of rock and stone.
"Beautiful morning," said Hercules as he joined Iolaus at the rail. "The captain says we should make Tolos by mid-day."
A frown shadowed Iolaus' expression. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he replied and pointed off into the distance. "What do you make of that?"
A dark smudge marred the perfect blue of the morning sky. It seemed to hover over a distant island that rose from the water with a cliff face as sharp as a blade.
"Do you see that? It looks like there's' someone up there," continued Iolaus, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with the flat of his hand. "I think it's a woman. I can see her hair whipping in the wind."
"Iolaus?"
"Yeah?"
"There is no wind."
"Hey, you're right! Then how can she . . . uh-oh."
The smudge began to spread across the blue of the sky like spilled black ink. As the ship sailed closer to the small jagged island, the figure on it's summit raised its arms to the stained heavens. A throaty growl replied. The wind began to rise, swirling around the ship and snapping the sails like whips.
"I've got a really bad feeling about this," said Iolaus.
"You and me both," replied Hercules grimly as he watched the storm boil toward them.
Twilight fell over the sea as the clouds swallowed the sun. Lightning flashed toward them, dazzling their eyes as it came to within inches of the mast. The sailor in the crows nest gave a yelp of surprise and hastily abandoned his post, scrambling toward the deck. The sea bucked and began to toss the wooden ship as if it were a toy.
"Who the Hades is that and why is she doing this?" demanded Iolaus as the figure continued to wave it's arms, stirring the storm to a fevered pitch.
"Hera." Hercules' hands curled into fists. "My being alive is reason enough."
"Hera!" Iolaus threw up his hands. "I might have known! Doesn't she have anything better to do than try to make your life miserable?"
"Apparently not, and I don't intend to give her the satisfaction," said Hercules as he turned away from the rail. "Come on. Let's help the crew batten down. We're in for a rough ride."
Word Count: 447
Rating: G
Iolaus stood at the bow of the ship and looked toward the eastward horizon. The Ionian sea was calm; so calm, in fact, that he hardly felt the movement of the ship as it sliced through the water. He could almost imagine that he was standing still and that it was actually the islands that were slipping by like giant sea creatures made of rock and stone.
"Beautiful morning," said Hercules as he joined Iolaus at the rail. "The captain says we should make Tolos by mid-day."
A frown shadowed Iolaus' expression. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he replied and pointed off into the distance. "What do you make of that?"
A dark smudge marred the perfect blue of the morning sky. It seemed to hover over a distant island that rose from the water with a cliff face as sharp as a blade.
"Do you see that? It looks like there's' someone up there," continued Iolaus, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with the flat of his hand. "I think it's a woman. I can see her hair whipping in the wind."
"Iolaus?"
"Yeah?"
"There is no wind."
"Hey, you're right! Then how can she . . . uh-oh."
The smudge began to spread across the blue of the sky like spilled black ink. As the ship sailed closer to the small jagged island, the figure on it's summit raised its arms to the stained heavens. A throaty growl replied. The wind began to rise, swirling around the ship and snapping the sails like whips.
"I've got a really bad feeling about this," said Iolaus.
"You and me both," replied Hercules grimly as he watched the storm boil toward them.
Twilight fell over the sea as the clouds swallowed the sun. Lightning flashed toward them, dazzling their eyes as it came to within inches of the mast. The sailor in the crows nest gave a yelp of surprise and hastily abandoned his post, scrambling toward the deck. The sea bucked and began to toss the wooden ship as if it were a toy.
"Who the Hades is that and why is she doing this?" demanded Iolaus as the figure continued to wave it's arms, stirring the storm to a fevered pitch.
"Hera." Hercules' hands curled into fists. "My being alive is reason enough."
"Hera!" Iolaus threw up his hands. "I might have known! Doesn't she have anything better to do than try to make your life miserable?"
"Apparently not, and I don't intend to give her the satisfaction," said Hercules as he turned away from the rail. "Come on. Let's help the crew batten down. We're in for a rough ride."