The Pirate’s Premonition
Published by Gareth Torrance
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Aerin’s head felt like an anvil had fallen onto it. Moving her hand up toward her pale brown hair, she patted the back of her head but there was no blood. The air, however, was very heavy. She gasped and wheezed as she tried to breathe, the heat of the air drying her lungs and making her want to vomit.
The sky was filled with clouds, red and violent in the way they released their lightning. To her right lay the wrinkled and crumbled metal of her airship, the Farcry. Steam rose up from the crimson steel clutter as bits and pieces of the metal remains fell to the floor.
What happened? Where am I? Aerin clambered to her feet, swaying as she did so. The ground was as dry as the air, with no signs of greenery in any direction. It was flat and endless, with the sun hiding behind the clouds as if it were terrified to show its face. Yet the ground burnt as she walked around, her leather shoes ripped and torn, exposing her feet to the scorching desert sand.