Oooh, a black beach with clouds overhead.
Jon
All his life, Jon thought beaches were sunny and bright and fun.
Not this one. This was scary.
Jon stared at the wet sand beneath his feet. They were grains of charcoal beneath him, black and hot. The waves washed over them, and for a moment, they were ink.
In front of him was a small mountain—or a large hill. He didn’t know the difference. Its imposing presence towered over him, wearing a crown of clouds on its jagged head. It was black, like the sand, except it was not at the mercy of the waves. It was above the waves. It was unmoving. It was sharp, its stark silhouette carving into the sky, and he did not like it. It was frightening.
Then the sea. The sea was wide open, like he had always known, but the dark blue sky above it made him quiver. It was a dangerous sea. Truth be told, all seas were dangerous, but some were safer than others. The absence of light instilled a sense of foreboding in him. Yet, it was also silly. He shouldn’t be scared of water. He could control water. He could command it. He could cause the waves to rise and order them to crash, or send them rolling far away from him. He could even breathe underwater. Yet, he was not afraid of the water. It was the thing lurking within the water, the unknown, that he was less optimistic of. He feared what the water brought, not the water itself.
Well of course. No wonder this beach was empty. Black sand, dark sky, heavy clouds—this was not a vacation spot. Yet here he was. He wasn’t here for a vacation, though.
The waves roared and crashed at his feet, hissing as it reached to the shore before pulling back. He stood still, like the mountain beside him.
Arden
The sea beckoned to her with its rolling waves. She paid them no heed—not now, at least.
She surveyed the land first. It was empty. Devoid of life. Not even a plant had made its home here. At least that meant that she would not be disturbed here; it appeared that no living thing had any interest in nearing this place. The sand beneath her was fine, like the smallest grains of sugar, yet they were clumped tightly together so that she didn’t sink into the wet soil. She tilted her head as she looked at the black grains crunching beneath her feet. Black, like her hair. A unique shade.
Then the mountain. Time had carved it, rather haphazardly, resulting in its uneven scalp. In spite of its rough head, it stood proud over the land, watching over the sea like a guardian. She could tell that the rock was strong and solid. She could carve it to her liking, set a post or a new home on it. Or into it. It was possible. She could build a new hideaway there. Then, if she needed to escape from the bustle and hassle of her regular life, she could slip away here, unbothered.
Then the sea. It was empty, like the land it lapped at. It did not appear stormy; not now, at least, but she did not worry about it. Her enchantments could withstand even the most violent tsunamis. Though the clouds cast a faint shadow over the vast blue, she could imagine using her light magic to shoo them away, and what would remain would be sparkling turquoise, glittering with flecks of golden sunlight, or shimmering with silver moonlight. The sea would be her companion, if she needed it to be.
Magic shot out of her fingertips as she drew two arcs with her hand. A symbol marked the mountain. X marked the spot.
Might have gotten a little carried away.
