Thomas had been in love with the sea from his youth. Since his childhood it had provided for him. As an orphan he had asked sailors for leftover fish and his main entertainment had been watching the waves. Now as a young man he felt fortunate to have been given the opportunity to sail the seas, and he took every opportunity to ride them. He worked as a sailor, regularly making short trips but was not employed full time for a ship master. He wished he was able to afford a ship of his own as Master Sarkhan had. For now he contented himself with doing jobs on the ships. His power was useful so the owners hired him but he knew it would become more powerful still.
He had realized his power at a young age; while others had complained about the sea being choppy it was always calm near him. He had an aura around him in which the sea remained calm.The often rough weather in the south of Albion where they lived was where he could earn his wealth. His talent lay with the sea, and Thomas realized that if he was able to buy a ship he could travel in weather other ships would not be able to tolerate. Albion was a region full of material wealth, but the sea was only able to be sailed on long voyages two months out of the year. If he was able to sail it all twelve he would become unimaginably wealthy. But for now he had to content himself with saving for his own ship.
He grew increasingly miserable as he realized that he would never have his own ship. Thomas’s salary was only 30 silver coins per week, which he spent on food. Although the food did not need to be in large quantities it still prevented him from saving enough money to buy even a small boat. At first he was able to save some money by picking up a job here and there, but by the end of his first month at the job he realized he could not stand to be away from the sea for so long. He could not see himself leaving for any length of time and his heart was so heavy that he could not sleep at night.
Now it was mid-winter and although Thomas knew he could not remain there for much longer he did not see a means to leave and make more money. As he thought about this, he realized that if he was able to talk to the master of a ship and mention his power he could maybe earn enough money for a small boat. Of course such a statement would bring him under scrutiny, but his anger at being stuck was building and with this passion he resolved to sail, no longer as a mere hand but as an important member of a crew.
Thomas ate quickly, and went to see a friend he knew on a ship in the port. The friend was an old man who had always been kind to him. He had helped the man walk across the market square once and in return for this unprecedented act of kindness the man had taken him in. Thomas felt as if the man knew more about the sea than anyone else in the city.
As Thomas was walking to see the man he paused at a puddle near the side of the road, and suddenly began to feel an unusual desire to jump in. This was not merely an inclination, no it felt to him like the craving for food when one has not eaten in days. He felt the urge to just go to the water and throw himself in. He tried to quell the feeling and brush it aside, but the more he did so the stronger the desire grew. He felt as if he could hear a call, a seductive voice, calling him home. The land became a strange sea in his mind. The water was cool and comforting, the smell of salt air and wet sand was wonderful. He felt no desire for food but for the world that existed behind the water’s surface, he walked as if in a trance toward the sea.
Thomas knew he had to go into the water, but this could not be the way he left the city. He had to give in to his longing and take the risk. As Thomas began to jump into the water he felt a change in the magic. He felt it strengthen; he felt as if he had the power to command the waves. He felt less a man and more a god. A new found knowledge began to possess him. He was not a boy, but had been alive for centuries.
As his power returned to him in full he began to glow. A bright light enveloped him and he vanished. In his place stood a handsome man with a trident. His name was no longer Thomas, he remembered it, he had forgotten it. He was Hav. The hard man. The one who betrayed all that was good and brave.
“You traitor! You should have died like the rest of your kind! You are a Dark lord. He remembered these words coming from the mouth of Poseidon centuries ago. This was why he had been put into exile on this Island. During the island’s former decline centuries ago Hav had turned against his leader and together with the other small groups had created his own small empire, one dedicated to obtaining the feared relic, the Trident. In the end Poseidon had won, but not before Hav had stolen his trident. During the climax of the war that ended his reign of terror Hav had been ambushed. The power of his stolen trident had overwhelmed him and he had been defeated. Poseidon had used his moment of weakness to overcome him. As Hav remembered this he no longer felt resentment toward Poseidon.
As he remembered this he shouted to the sea,“What do you want?”
“I want you to return to Atlantis.”
As Hav stepped into the sea he was bathed in red light. It no longer pulsed as it had before, it had been realigned. He had no more immortality. Hav awoke once more to find himself bound in chains.
As he opened his eyes Hav realized that he had been awake for some time. His body was throbbing. He could see a figure bent over him. “I am Poseidon, my trident is yours. For this you shall die. The power of your blood shall increase mine.
Slowly Poseidon lifted his trident, Hav had not realized it had appeared beside him.
The sound was piercing.
Hav turned his head to see his skull cut open.
The blood ran into the ocean.
Poseidon whispered to him “Why do you wish to live? You are nothing more than a pathetic weakling, filled with regret. From the moment you betrayed me I have felt hatred towards you. You betrayed me with a false smile. You murdered your comrades for a trident that does nothing more than rob a Daedric lord of his immortality. It may have passed between us in battle, but what of it? Did you consider it? Did you think about what you would become? I was not so bloodthirsty then but now you shall die.
With a final blow Hav was dispatched, he was no more.
Such is the story of how Poseidon came to power.
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Photo Credit: Deviant Art
