Stone to Flesh
The rain fell gently on the rocks. Through gray clouds, the moon seemed like a scythe in the sky of Ayaton, bathing the Rain Coast and the brow of the hill where the main settlement was built. Marby had come out of his house determined, carrying a wooden box of decoys and various tools he had calculated he would need. He walked between the stone houses, always keeping the Rock Castle on his right. Beyond the old Revedon church, he knew of a path with small, steep steps leading down to the beach. Local residents considered it a dangerous path because it was slippery and required each step to be taken with care and caution. But old man Marby thought that was nonsense. The old folks always used it to get to the beach. It was the quickest way to sail north to Mermaid Island, where the best fish are found, despite what the young, soft-headed fishermen of Ayaton might say. It was unheard of for locals to avoid the prettiest waters just because mermaids sailed the same waters. After all, if they were foolish enough to fall into our nets, so much the worse for them. Marby reconsidered this last thought as he reached the steep staircase. He wanted to keep his conscience clear on this lonely journey. After all, he didn't want to hurt anyone; he just wanted to enjoy an evening of mild rain when the water would be smooth as oil and the fish would be begging to fall into his net.
He reached the top of the ladder. It seemed steeper and narrower than he remembered. It twisted oddly like a helix and descended sharply, dozens of feet down into the darkness and between sharp rocks with little grip, until his feet touched the coveted sand. He lifted his lantern forward and saw golden hoops gently touching dark, loose surfaces. The moonlight also fell serenely on the calm, black waters on the horizon, and that gave him courage. He descended cautiously and felt a pang in his chest as he thought of his boat in the deserted bay.
A few moments later, he was on the beach. There wasn't a soul around him. Above his head, the timid lights of the houses slowly dimmed behind hazy windows as the island fell asleep. From the west, a wind came through the dappled trees of Spiritwood, which looked like a sleeping beast in the night. The distant forest seemed to breathe this wind itself in its dark slumber. Ominous and full of stories, myths, and legends, it made the hairs on Marby's back stand up. He turned his gaze to the sea and tried to calm himself. Tonight was a night of calm, not fear. He found his boat and eagerly pushed it into the water, tossed his things into it, and with a splash, climbed in. Without wasting time, he grabbed the oars and started rowing into the calm waters. He was happy and felt more alive than ever. He grabbed a bottle of rum from the sack and, with one hand, downed a hearty swig to celebrate as the boat glided on the velvet waters.
"This is life," he said to himself contentedly and scratched his dirty, curly beard. Soon, his lantern was the only light on the sea, looking like a firefly moving slowly and calmly under the night sky.
The evening flowed smoothly, and Marby's nets were filling up. The rum was going down sweetly, and the boat hadn't even had to move far from shore. At one point, something got caught in the nets, and all of Marby's strength was not enough to pull it to the surface.
"By the tips of the trident. What have we got ourselves into? I couldn't have caught a mermaid."
He made another attempt, feeling his forehead sweat and his breath sharp with rum. Marby was middle-aged, but after a lifetime at sea, his strength hadn't completely left him. He pulled harder and began to growl, but whatever he had caught seemed to move. He could see the dark silhouette approaching the surface of the water, but he didn't have enough strength to pull it into the boat.
"By all the gods. What is that?"
He hissed and let the object fall back to the bottom. He felt the impact with the ground and realized there was no way he could pull it up into the boat. It was heavier than a large anchor. With much effort and patience, he guided the boat to the beach to pull the load onto the sand.
It was almost dawn when Marby dragged the statue across the sand. He was haggard, sweaty, and terribly annoyed with the result. He had wasted a perfectly good night to pull up what exactly? A statue. And would it have any value? The light in the sky began to break into lighter shades. Soon, it would be dawn for good, and the first fishermen would be seen on the shores. He had forgotten the fish he had caught. He sat on the ground, watching with heavy, labored breaths as he observed the statue entangled in his nets. He decided to release it to study it better.
"What is this now?" he muttered. With a small knife, he cut some of the nets since he no longer had the patience. "I'm going to ruin my nets for this thing too."
When he had shaken off the last of the nets, he tried to clear the statue of seaweed. Then he stood, looking at it.
The statue was strange. It depicted a man with long hair, muscular, with pierced wings that were broken in places and tattered clothes. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen. The detail was shocking. Not that a fisherman knew anything about sculpture, but he could certainly understand that sculpting wings in such detail definitely took some skill. Maybe old man Marby's luck hadn't run out completely. He smiled at the thought of winning, but as soon as he reached the statue's eyes, he took a step back and nearly fell to the ground. He didn't know why, but something in its eyes looked so... alive! There was expression, emotion. How could so much detail be captured in stone? What formidable artist had managed to capture all these aspects? He must have been great. Marby laughed again and approached. He ran his hand over the smooth stone; it wasn't as cold as one might expect. Strange, he thought.
However, his troubles were just beginning. Suddenly he realized he had no way to carry it up the stairs he had come down. He would need a carriage, and no carriage would fit down that steep staircase. That meant he would have to ask for help. Or worse, he would have to put it back in the boat, sail to Narrow Harbor, and from there, ask for help from his fellow villagers. That way, everyone would know about the find, and his dreams of profit from some rich collector would be dashed. It was dawn, and Marby was at a dead end. No matter how much he thought about it, he had no other solution. So he put all his strength and energy into loading the statue onto the boat. With aching hands, he rowed, and when the sun began to climb behind the clouds that foretold more rain, he arrived at Narrow Harbor, facing curious looks.
With the help of a few sailors and workmen, they pulled the statue onto the pier. Sighs and questions began to rain down, and Marby, both tired and dehydrated, had no patience to continue.
"Listen, lads. Just help me get it into my yard, will you? And in the evening, after I've rested, I'll tell you all about it in the tavern. What do you say?"
Heads nodded, and sleeves were rolled up. With coordination and enthusiasm, eight men picked up the statue and began to carry it. Marby barely helped. He turned his head to check if he had pulled his boat onto the sand and then continued giving instructions to the others.
"Hey, Marby," said Larris. "Where did you get that? It's not particularly heavy for a statue."
"Where did I get it? I found it in the water. It's not heavy, Larris, because there are eight of you. I can't feel my hands."
Suddenly, something changed. The group stopped.
"What happened?" Cole asked.
"I don't know," replied Larris. "I felt something."
"What did you feel?"
"I don't know. Should we leave it for a while?"
"Didn't you say it was light?"
"It's not the weight," replied Larris gleefully. "Something stirred. I felt a movement."
Marby shook his head disapprovingly. He rolled up his sleeves and, with no enthusiasm, went to take Larris' place.
"You don't have to talk such nonsense, Larris. If you're tired, just say so. You don't owe me anything."
He shoved him aside and took hold of the statue. The hand moved, and suddenly everyone let go of it at the same time. When it hit the ground, the noise it made sounded more like a thud than anything else. The body that fell on the sand was made of flesh and bone.
"By the waves of the west!" Larris shouted. "What the fuck is that?"
"Monster! Demon! Kill it!" Cole yelled and kicked the creature in the belly. It growled and fell on its back, and more kicks followed. With a howl, it rose to its knees, dug its claws into the hip of one of the men, and Larris' voice turned to a cry. Blood spurted and drenched the sand as Larris fell back. The creature managed to straighten its body and spread its pierced and wounded wings. With a fist, it destroyed Cole's jaw, and a claw ripped through Charlem's tunic, causing him to suddenly feel his chest burn. Punches and kicks continued to land on the creature's head, wings, and body as it tried to gain space.
"It will fly!" Marby shouted, seeing the creature's attempt to escape with a flip, but its wings didn't support it. The creature was surprised. It turned around and saw the blood running down its bat-like wings, the holes that looked like a wrecked sail, and began to feel desperate. Suddenly, amidst the blows, it remembered the sky, the fire, the clanging of battle, and then the ocean. Fear began to take root in it. Through narrow eyes, it stared at the blurred figures of its frightened enemies. With strong arms raised, they continued to attack. A knife flashed in one belt. It remembered the seabed, and its mind traveled to the shadow that existed beyond the seabed, to that unknown evil that lurked in the endless days and nights under the sea. A few blows later, and it was unconscious.