[SOLO] Castaway (Beltan) - Done!

[Elros Namasi]

Beltan knew he was cutting it fine. He'd heard the storm warnings, been informed of the protocol for evacuating pae from their homes and moving them to safe zones. But he wanted to perform one last perimeter check, in case he'd missed any stragglers, before he made his own way to the palace to wait out the fury of the hurricane. Even though he hadn't dawdled, the storm struck so suddenly that the naiad guard was caught totally unprepared. He struggled against the surge, looking desperately for somewhere to hunker down, but he was caught in the chaotic currents. A sudden, sharp pain in his head and then nothing but darkness...

~*~*~*~

Beltan woke to the sound of seagulls and a searing pain on the side of his head, just behind his earfin. He was lying on sand, uncomfortably hot in the sun, and when he shifted, his stomach rolled. Heaving to the side, which in itself was an exercise in excruciating pain, he purged himself of what felt like half the ocean and then just laid there for a long time, racked by sobbing retches. Even after his now empty stomach had ceased convulsing, he stayed there for what felt like hours before he worked up the courage to pry his salt-caked eyes open.

He first tried to assess his situation and his condition without moving. From what he could see, he was on what, under other circumstances, would be a pristine beach. Within his line of sight, there was a large, pastel-hued conch shell, white sand, and some scattered pieces of driftwood. Waves rolled in and gently lapped at his feet. He was sore all over, battered and bruised, and his head was throbbing in time to his heartbeat. Unfortunately, from his current position, he couldn't deduce much further than that on his surroundings or the state of his physical well-being. Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his back once more and, panting from the exertion, looked down at himself. Numerous abrasions and lesions covered his body, but none looked serious. Overall, he appeared to be in one piece. Now the real test. Stiff and awkward, he reached for his tender cranium. On the right side of his head was a lump the size of his fist and, whether from the swelling or whatever had struck him he didn't know, the skin was split. The moment his fingertips brushed against it, he cried out in agony and lost consciousness once more.  

[Elros Namasi]

When he woke up next, it was dark out. The sun had long since set and the moon and stars were out, casting soft ambient light. He didn't know if it was the same day; nor did he know how long he'd been unconscious the first time. The lack of information unnerved him but hey, at least it was cooler now. Still, being out in the open any longer than necessary seemed like a bad idea. Franky, it was a wonder he hadn't been picked over by carrion eaters. So, with an effort, he sat up. After an initial wave of dizziness, he forced his tired body up the beach, crawling until he reached the tree line where he settled himself with his back to a palm and covered up with fronds and bushes.

It occurred to Beltan that he would need to see to food and water at some point in the very near future but the desire to just close his eyes for a moment was strong. Fighting it, he moved his cover off of himself. The least he could do was see to his injuries. Grimacing, he made it to his feet then chose a direction and moved off, carefully keeping parallel to the edge of the vegetation, until he came across a tiny trickle of fresh water. Bathing the caked-on dried salt from his wounds was a painful chore but finally, he felt clean, if a little bit dried out. Shifting upstream from where he'd washed, the naiad cupped his hand to catch some water and brought it to his lips, sipping at it slowly. Sated, he shook the excess from his fingers then set about trying to makeshift a bandage for his head.

~*~*~*~

Now sporting a messy bandage of fluffy moss held in place with some mud and crushed leaves, Beltan was more tired than ever. Yawning hugely and ignoring the grumblings of hunger, he made his slow way back to his original hiding spot and relaxed, slipping into a peaceful, healing sleep.  

[Elros Namasi]

It was hard for Beltan to gauge how much time he'd spent on the island. He regretted that he hadn't done a better job trying to keep track. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and so forth. Time kept marching on without any concern for his plight.

It had taken almost a full moon cycle for the naiad to heal up enough for him to feel confident in venturing back into the water. The experience hadn't been pleasant. Looking ridiculous as he scooted into the surf on his backside, his legs had shifted back into a tail but the transition wasn't smooth. There was pain; lingering achiness from the beating he'd taken. To further his troubles, once he was fully submerged he found his balance to be horribly off. But he supposed that's what he got for being on land for an extended period.

His first thoughts were of getting back home. He needed to explain his absence to his Queen and his commanding officers. But, on his first foray out, it became painfully clear that he was so far beyond the realm of anything recognizable that he would be swimming blind. The prospect was foolhardy at best; daunting at worst. Compounding the issue was his need for basic necessities, like food and shelter.

~*~*~*~

He made due with what he had, eventually amassing quite the collection of crude tools using rocks and sticks he found on the island. He fished the shallows with netting he'd woven from thin, woody vines and made snares to catch birds. He'd even built a passable lean-to on land and had found a comfortable cave under the reef shelf. On the beach he'd dug a pit in which he built fires using driftwood and deadfall for fuel.

Unfortunately, as day to day survival became easier, Beltan found himself with more and more downtime. Downtime in which he reflected on his situation and the events that had brought him here. "Great Waters, I'm stupid!" he agonized aloud, just to hear the sound of a voice, even if it was just his own. "I should never have gone back out. My place was in the palace!" Frustrated, he rubbed his roughened hands over his face then through the shaggy mop of his once carefully groomed hair, feeling the raised ridge of scar tissue that was a constant reminder of his mistake.

Every day, he sank further and further into guilt-ridden depression. Soon enough, he was just going through the motions of living. He ate when he was hungry. He slept when he was tired. But his drive was waning...

And then he heard it... A voice, calling him home.

At first, he resisted, thinking his sanity had finally broken. But the pull just strengthened. Finally.. Finally, it was decided. He would heed the call and return. He would beg Tariel's forgiveness for his failure then he would formally resign.

FIN (hehe)