Wrecked

Chapter 1: Lectures, Histories, and Dreams

This is a work of fiction, all characters are my own creation (although they're not brilliantly original, nor is the story) and any resemblance to other plots/people/characters is coincidental.
The series will be M/M, this opening chapter is mostly plot, and then I added a little bit of sexy times at the end. Soft-core in this chapter. SoloM. Naughtier stuff will occur later on.
First story on AF, so criticism, reviews, hatemail is very much appreciated, please.

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In a hut, on a remote island of the type commonly found in the Southern seas of Vasela, an old woman tried to keep the attention of a group of children. Around her neck was an obsidian pendant bearing the image of a harpoon. Grandma Odell's voice crackled with age, like the pages of an old book, as she lectured the village children.

“Soon, my grandson, Freynan, will be undergoing the joining ritual, and he will finally receive his pendant. Much like myself, and his mother before him, he is one of the few born with the gift. This will be the first time you children will be seeing the ritual, so pay attention next week. Our tiny fishing village is fortunate to have two of the gifted in one place, it will mean great things for the future. Now, move along kids, I'm starving and it's time for dinner, I may have spirit powers but I'm not rich enough to feed the lot of you.”

Frey waved goodbye to the children from his place behind the stove, “The stew's almost ready Gran.”

“Ya, ya.” Odell waved her hands in the air as she dropped sighing into a chair, “Age is catching up with me, soon you'll be a man, a full grown man.” She looked over at the boy, a week shy of eighteen, his sandy hair, hazel eyes, and light tan made her reminisce about the boy he used to be, while the broad shoulders, biceps, and calloused hands brought her back to the present, the present where she was soon to loose her only grandchild to the world of adulthood. Sometimes, a person was never the same again, and it scared her. Sometimes, it was worse than a change of personality. “Still no way I can talk you out of doing the ritual next week?” She was optimistic with the young children, but Frey needed to consider the risk.

“No way at all, Gran. Mum did it, and I'll go through with it too. There's no way the life of the gifted could ever be worse than being a measly fisherman.”

“Your father was a measly fisherman.”

“And where did that get him? Dead, out on the ocean.”

“Humpf.” Odell was used to this exchange by now, somewhere over the course of puberty he had turned from missing his father to hating him. “Fishing is a noble profession, Frey.” She was using her lecturing voice.

Frey shot a glance at her harpoon pendant, “You're only saying that because of him.” Odell's spirit was a patron spirit of fishermen, he couldn't understand how that was the spirit that found kinship with the soul of his old grandmother.

“Yes, because of him. Atwo is a strong spirit, who helps strong people. When I turned eighteen, my father was missing after a storm, at my joining all I could think about was my father and the crew of his ship, I wanted desperately for them to be alive. Atwo came to me, and he gave me the power to help make the lives of these poor fishermen better. If you're lucky, Atwo or another ocean spirit will be willing to join with you, Frey.” Cupped in her hands, she stared intently at her pendant, “Even though my father never came back, I received the power to help prevent that pain for others. My spirit taught me to sense the presence of storms ahead of time, and he taught me about the habits and movement of the fish. Our village is a much better place because of HIM! I do my best, but I can't save everyone, and your father knew risked the seas so that you could have a full belly at night.”

In general, it is a good idea never to insult the spirit of a gifted in Vasela, especially when you don't know what kind of powers they have. The bond between a spirit and the gifted they associate with is often so strong that it is difficult to tell the motivations of the individual apart from that of the spirit.

“If I end up with some kind of fish spirit, gran, I'm going to kill myself.”

“Don't be overly dramatic, let's eat and get to bed early, we have work early tomorrow to prepare for the ritual.”

That night, both of the gifted in that nondescript village had very emotionally... charged, dreams. Grandma Odell tossed and turned as she remembered the aggressive fights she's had with her grandson, and she worried about the condition of his soul. Often considered the most important role of the joining ritual in their part of the world was that of the knife bearer, the one who stood over the body of the gifted one, ready to end things if an evil spirit joins with them. Pictures of the past, horrible memories replayed themselves as if they occurred the day before:

“'There's no need, you have a child to take care of, the ceremony can be dangerous!' Odell, pleaded with her only child.

'I have to do this mum, I have to make this island a better place, a safer place for Frey.' Clara, remained determined while her mother argued in tears. Odell was wiped the tears from her eyes and grasped the whale bone knife in her right hand. She knelled down and grasped the blank obsidian pendant tightly, she called out to the spirits as her mother had instructed her. 'Spirits, I am here, a potential vessel, as has been determined by another of the gifted, I seek my companion, I seek one who understands my deepest desires.' She closed her eyes and the joining began.

A spirit entered Clara's body, and her pendant glowed with a green light, when the light abated, there was the emblem of a shark on her pendant. Odell cried hysterically as the blood of her daughter spilled down over her wrist, Atwo told her the shark was an emblem of an evil spirit, a spirit that couldn't be allowed to an agent on the island.

In bed, Odell rolled over and sobbed into her pillow.

Meanwhile, Freynan was having a very different kind of dream. His mind was filled with a captivating vision of a person on the beach, they had a slender back, pale white, with shaggy black hair to their shoulders. Frey approached the figure, and it turned towards him, it was a boy, a boy not too much younger than him, but about a head shorter. His facial features were delicate, his nose slightly upturned, and eyes a pale gray. Frey's breathing increased as he got closer, and he wanted to call out to the boy, wanted to know him more than he had ever wanted anything else before. He reached out to touch him, but he disappeared. Frey stirred awake, sweating, something was off about that dream, it wasn't ordinary, it felt far too real. Why did the strange dream make his heart race so much?

Shaking off the sense of foreboding he felt about the dream, his teen hormones started to take over. Whether the boy was real or not, he was the most beautiful specimen of a human being he'd ever seen. He tried to picture the the black haired youth in his mind, but the heightened sense of exhilaration was gone. In his fantasy he wrapped his right arm around the slender boy, pulling him close. Holding him tightly up against his body, he paused a second to get lost in the gray eyes before diving in for a frantic kiss, he was always very bold in his dreams. He thought about pushing the boy down in the sand, straddling him and they would gasp for breath as they kissed; Frey wondered what the the boy would really feel like, what he would really smell and taste like. Erection straining against his underwear, he reached down to free it, and he stroked himself slowly towards release. Gasp and light moans escaped from his mouth before he bit down on his lower lip, trying not to alert his grandmother. In his mind, he and the black haired beauty had managed to dispense with the rest of their clothes, he thrust his hips and rubbed their cocks between them. Frantically, he pictured thrusting harder and faster, crashing forward to occasionally embrace the soft lips of the boy. He stroked himself faster and bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he came in spurts onto his stomach. Catching his breath, he cleaned himself off, hoping he hadn't awoken Grandma Odell.

Elsewhere on the island, a small dinghy crashed against the rocks, and a loan figure swam ashore only to collapse into the sand. He laid motionless under the moon, glad to be alive, and slept a content, dreamless sleep.