Thudoro

The Emerald Ring

A Short Story
The Emerald Ring
I walked slowly down the narrow beach, me feet leaving deep imprints in the wet
sand. A cool breeze ruffled my hair and pulled at my coat whilst some seagulls circled lazily
overhead squawking every so often, but often enough not to be forgotten. Waves broke over
the pebbles scattered here and there, shaping them eternally and for eternity. The town was
now quite far behind me, I began to feel my heartbeat slowing down and the only voice
babbling inside my head now was my own. As I calmed down, I started to get my bearings. I
seemed to be in a sort of natural bay. The town actually stood on the top of the cliffs which I
had carefully descended on a steep footpath. In fact I was rapidly nearing the end of the beach
and would soon have to turn around. The sheer rock wall loomed up in front of me, obscuring
the small round disc of light that was miserably trying to penetrate a heavily clouded sky. A
few steps further and I discovered a flattish boulder on which I suddenly had the urge to rest
for a moment. Even though I was wrapped up in my heavy outdoor clothes, the cold day still
managed to bite at me, like icy tendrils leaping out and striking a target. The beach was
deserted and sat there, watching the clouds race by, I felt unusually content. Maybe because
for once, nobody was shouting, nobody was in a hurry and nobody needed me. Sat there, I
forgot my usual worries, troubles and difficulties. Sat there, I forgot who I was, what I was to
do and where I was to go.

I woke up with cold feet. The reason was such that small waves were gently lapping
over my thighs. I slowly came to my senses and realized that I had fallen to sleep and that the
tide had still been coming in. I stood up to quickly and felt momentarily dizzy and
disorientated, tried to assess the situation and realized that I was actually in quite a dangerous
situation: being at the end of the bay and with the water closing in on all sides, there was not
much chance that I would be able to wade back to the bottom of the footpath. Night had fallen
and I could just make out a cluster of flickering lights in the distance against the dark starless
sky: the town. I was going to have to find another way out of this tricky situation and not
knowing what else I could do I desperately tried to scale the cliff face, but to no avail.
Abandoning unfortunately all hope of survival and sincerely wishing I had woken up maybe
half an hour earlier, I cursed profusely under my breath until screaming for help at the top of
my voice. Just like my previous attempts to climb up the cliffs, it was no use. A loud clap of
thunder tore through the air and made me nearly jump out of my skin. I didn't think my luck
could have got any worse and didn't even notice the small prick of light that was gradually
getting bigger and brighter. It was only when the water was over my waist and salt on my lips
that I did see it. What at first had only been a lone dot of light, a star perhaps had turned quite
quickly into a beacon of hope. I was not probably going to drown after all, which was I must
admit, a very good thing, because before me now floated a rather queer ship. All I could make
out from the light that was emanating from the deck was that the hull seemed to be made out
of wood and tall structures rose up into the air, straight as arrows. It took me a brief moment
to realise that I was in fact faced with a fully watertight galleon. Rows upon rows of cannons
pointed menacingly out of the interior of the ship at me. I came to my senses when I heard
shouting and remembered that I was still probably drowning. I shouted for help and help did
come, in the form of a thick rope tied into a knot at the end. I grabbed help of it, was pulled
through some waves and then hoisted up the side of the ship. I had been saved!
As soon as I was on the vessel, I dropped both the rope and to my knees, crying my thanks to
the sailor who had heard me and pulled me out. A strong arm pulled me quite sharply up and
sent me to see the "cap'n". I obediently followed the other outstretched limb which obviously
pointed to the "cap'n's" quarters and whilst crossing the deck, other tough looking men jeered
and laughed at me. Too scared to utter even the smallest of sounds I continued on my way. I
was now fully discombobulated and really wondered whether I had in fact fallen out of the
frying pan and into the fire. I rapped loudly on the door and entered on tiptoes when I did not
hear a reply. Trembling from fright, I had a quick look around the spacious cabin in which I
found myself. Candles burnt brightly and allowed me to distinguish detailed maps on large
tables, guns with long barrels hung on panelled wood, a large stained-glass window looking
out onto the seething sea and last of all, my gaze strayed onto a comfortable looking armchair,
which looked somewhat out of place with the rest of the surroundings. It was like going back
in time and quite strange. I decided that this was where I would probably find my new
captain. I slowly slid around the side of the chair until I was face to face with an old looking
man covered in scars with a pistol in his right hand, a pistol that was trained on me although
not moving. I very quickly stammered that I had been sent to see him and begged for mercy,
but when no reply came for a good minute, not even a nod of the head; I finally dared to look
a bit closer. He was not asleep, not making the slightest of noises, for he was dead. The
captain of the ship was dead.

I was shocked, having never seen a dead body before in my life and it took me a few
minutes for me to gather my thoughts and calm down. I had another look and noticed a green
glint coming from the inside of his clenched left fist, the hand that was not holding the gun.
Being slightly over-curious and under-cautious I prised the man's cold fingers apart and
picked up the glittering object. Under closer inspection I saw that the dead captain had been
clutching a ring, a gold ring, with an emerald in the centre. I playfully tried it on and suddenly
felt very different. I felt a lot stronger and a lot wiser. I felt powerful and I liked it. I mused
about taking the ring off, but really did not have the slightest intention of doing so. I enjoyed
this feeling and had decided to keep it, which is strange, because I had never before stolen
anything in my life. Instead I picked up the dead man's pistol and strode out onto the deck, my
head high and my back straight. We had sailed a long way from the shore where I was picked
up and I couldn't even see it anymore. The tall cliffs had been replaced by a beautiful blood
red sun which was slowly rising over a boiling sea. It didn't look of this world and in fact it
felt warmer and different, but nicely different.

The sailors who seemed like a real nasty bunch on the whole had in the meantime been
sneaking up on me. I surprised them and myself by bellowing a quick succession of orders,
my tongue just like a whip. They quivered and glanced at each other briefly in shock, before
hurrying to get to work. This ring had really worked wonders and it did feel as though the ring
was the source of this new authority. I felt as though I knew exactly what to do, when and
how. I took my place at the wheel and we sailed toward that sunrise. I must say that it was a
sparkling, brilliant start to a new life, my new life in what seemed to be a new brighter world,
a life which had started overnight. I had become someone completely different, just for
having been saved by and ancient ship embedded in another time. I do not know even now
how it magically appeared as if on cue to fish me out of the deep end and I do also wonder
what would happen if I were ever to take of this ring? Would it attempt to look for a new
owner?