“Don’t” was the only word Bones managed to get out before the wounded man shrieked in terror and scrambled backwards, throwing the word demon in the mix as he did. The harsh movements exacerbated the deep gash in his stomach, turning his shouts into pained moans. His strength quickly left him and he collapsed back on the ground. In a last ditch effort, he grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at Bones’ face while shouting “Begone,” then curled into a ball.

Bones shook his head. Sure, talking skeletons weren’t exactly a normal occurrence and meeting one after your village was attacked would be traumatic but this was just insulting. Kinda embarrassing as well.

“As I was trying to say,” Bones said as he took off his hat to shake the sand off, “don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I know I look like something out of a nightmare, and that’s a long story, but I’m here to help. I killed all those creatures in the village.

The man peered from behind his arms which he’d brought up to shield himself. As if that’d do anything.

“Listen, we need to get off this beach. I know you’re hurt but we have to work together if we’re going to make it through this. I’ll explain later but for now, I’ll go look for something to help transport you. When I do, I’ll bring you to the big building over there. While I’m doing that, take a moment to calm down and compose yourself. More importantly, I need you alive so conserve your strength. Be right back.”

With that, Bones got up and left. Hopefully, exiting the conversation quickly and walking away would give the man time to process things and he’d be a bit more trusting when he came back.

Meanwhile, Bones made his way further down the beach where wooden platforms angled down diagonally stood. Stretched tight over them were coconut fiber mats used to sun-dry the fish caught by the villagers. He used is knife to cut one mat off it’s frame, upended the fish resting on it then returned to the man with it over his shoulder.

The villager jolted when Bones came back but he didn’t seem as panicked as before. Bones unfurled the mat on the ground next to the overturned boat then stooped to peer inside.

“Hey again. Let’s get you on this and I can get you to safety. Name’s Bones by the way,” he said, extending a skeletal yet friendly hand. The man recoiled slightly at the gesture but after a moment, gingerly grasped it and shook it. “Hazeel” was all he said.

“Alright Hazeel. Thanks for trusting me. I’ll be honest, the longer we take, the higher the chance of more of these creatures coming out from the sea and more people on this island dying. We need to move right away so clench your teeth, clutch your wound and I’ll drag you on the mat.”

Hazeel was about to open his mouth, either to stall or ask questions out of nervousness but Bones grabbed his legs and pulled him before he could protest. With a yelp, he was yanked unto the mat.

“Wait,” Hazeel said, grabbing one of bones leg as he stood up. “Tell me. Is anyone else safe?” he asked.

“…Sorry. I wasn’t able to make it here in time. It’s just you and me now buddy.”

The man slumped back on the mat and began sobbing quietly moments later.

Bones lay a hand on the man chest. “I know your sad. I understand. But what I need you to be is angry and present. I have a way to stop all this madness and avenge the dead but I can’t do it without you.”

Hazeel glanced at him listlessly with teary eyes but he had heard him.

“…You’ll want to close your eyes,” Bones said as he grabbed the edges of the mat and stated dragging it towards the village, weaving a path between bodies. Those of everyone Hazeel had known.

They arrived at the biggest hut in the village. It was furthest away from the shore and build more solidly then other residences. Like in many other places Bones had visited, these were typically were the elders lived, and acted as spaces were villagers would hold marriages, festivities or important meetings. It also offered everyone a safe place to flee to during particularly strong storms.

Bones had already entered the building once when he was clearing the village of invaders but he hadn’t paid attention to small details until now. Carved on the thick logs it was built from were depictions of their histories, traditions and folklore. These had been painted with various pigments, making them colorful and vibrant.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

When Bones reached the front entryway, he could see on the left beam next to the door carvings of a fish swimming down a river against the current and up a waterfall. Over the door, the fish crossed a mountain lake, the hard trip transforming it into a strong, elongated sea dragon. Then on the right side, the dragon fell from the top of the mountain, through clouds and into the sea. All that history passed down over countless generations disappeared in hours, never to be told again.

Bones shook his head. Having been orphaned in his previous life, and growing up not knowing were he came from, he could empathize.

Bones went in first, leaving Hazeel outside, so that he could quickly remove the bodies of the Fishmen he’d killed inside and those of a few slain villagers. The poor guy didn’t need to see that.

The building was a long and tall hall. Two rectangular sandboxes stretched three quarters the length of the room, with an empty space left over for what Bones assumed was for dancing or emergency sleeping quarters. Those sandboxes were surrounded by smooth coral stones acting as a barrier between them and the flooring made of thick smooth wood. Scattered around each sandbox were dozens of cushions for villagers when they gathered for feasts. On the sand itself were fire pits and metal racks for slow roasting meats.

The roof was supported by two thick support beams and hanging from the rafters, hovering over the sand, were light sphere made of fish bones that burned fish oil when in use. The sides of the spheres had shapes cut into them that projected images on the walls by the slow burning flames.

A few windows let in limited sunlight but allowed fresh air to circulate making it slightly less sweltering.

Bones didn’t have time to be gentle and pay proper respect. He shoved the creatures out the windows and quickly drug their victims into the nearest storage room to deal with later, leaving trails of blood behind.

Once cleared, he brought Hazeel to the empty space past the sandboxes. The man was getting whiter by the second and had begun shivering. If he didn’t do something, he be gone shortly.

“Can you do something about this?” Bones said aloud. The feather flew off his hat to hover in front of his face. It flapped up and down like a person nodding. “Alright”

“Hey,” Bones said kneeling down next to the man. “You’re losing to much blood. My quill can help stem the bleeding. It’ll give you more time but it won’t take the pain away and from experience, the process is going to suck. We don’t have a choice.

“Do it,” Hazeel said with gritted teeth.

Bones nodded to the quill then moved to pin Hazeel’s shoulder down. “Stay strong”.

The quill zipped to the open wound then began glowing with magical energy. It’s tip sank into the skin next to the injury and with quick precise motions wrote runic symbols unto the flesh all around it. Hazeel screamed a few times but otherwise endured. When the last rune was carved, it flashed once and the bleeding stopped. “Good job,” Bones said.

Shaking, Hazeel asked for water. Bones went rummaging around the building to fulfill the request. He searched to the sound of Hazeel’s intermittent groans and the dead silence of a place that used to hold so much life. He wasn’t sure which one was loudest.

In the kitchen, he found clay urns holding previously collected rain water and rags that could be used for bandages. He returned to the dying man and lifted his head with slight protest to give him a drink then began wrapping his wounds.

“I’m not going to make it, am I?” the man said as Bones finished and sat back looking at his handy work.

“No. The wound his deep. But your remaining time here can save everyone.”

“You… you said that before. What can I do like this?”

“You can tell me a story. That’s all I need.”

“I’m dying… and you want… me to tell you a story?”

“Yes. Have you heard of the saying ‘dead men tell no tales’ before?”

“…I have.”

“Good. You see, there is power in words. More then you can imagine. Positive words can embolden people just like negative ones can destroy civilizations. Mix that with powerful magic, and other things can be affected. That giant thing in the distance, it knows that too and it’s scared. That was the reason these monsters attacked your village, their purpose. This thing is using them to silence the living so that this power vanishes.”

“And if I tell you a story, we can stop them?”

“As strange as it sounds, yes. But it as to be a positive story about the sea that is freely told. To seal up that thing once again, I needed to find 99 of them. Your the last one.”

“Magic words? Seals? It’s crazy.”

Bones chuckled.“It is, isn’t it? The reason why and how it works is a long story. My story. But we don’t have enough time for me to explain. You just need to trust me again friend.”

“I’m just a simple fisherman. I’ve lived a quiet life. I have never done anything worth mentioning.”

“The tale doesn’t have to be one of adventure and treasure. A personal anecdote is enough. Perhaps a memory of your youth or one that as been passed down from your ancestors. Everyone has a story.”

Bones saw the man’s mind work as he tried to come up with something but then he’d lose focus when his body shook with pain.

I… can’t think …clearly. It hurts so bad.

“Maybe I can help. Is there a healer in the village? I used to know a good ship doctor who taught me things. I can make something to numb the pain if I can find the proper ingredients.”

“A woman… north of the village. Just before the jungle. She helped people. Gave us medicine.”

“Okay,” Bones said standing up. I’ll go check if I can find something helpful. Sit tight and don’t go dying on me.”

Hazeel gave a weak nod and closed his eyes, his face scrunched up in pain. He didn’t seem like he was going to give up so neither would he.