"The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder."

                                                          -Ralph W. Sockman

A soft groan left your lips as your brows furrowed, pain shooting through your head as you tried to find the will to open your eyes. 

Raising your hand to your aching head, you slowly sat up, eyes finally opening, flinching at the bright sunlight that streaked in through the curtains surrounding you. 

Your mind instantly flashed back to the memories of the night prior. You remembered sailing for the island, the storm coming upon the ship, the pulling of the waves...Your body falling from the deck, the water filling your lungs. 

Your body tensed at the memories, instantly becoming alert of your surroundings. 

You were in some sort of tent, animal furs were laying atop the wooden skeleton of the structure, a small cloth serving as the entry way. 

You looked around you, hands searching your body for the weapons you'd stored on your person. 

They were gone. 

You were unarmed now. No pistol. No blade. Nothing. 

Panicking would be unwise.

You allowed yourself to take a deep breath. You appeared to be alone in the tent, which was definitely an upside, but you would not get your hopes up too high. 

If you were in a tent, you were sure there was someone who had built it...friend or foe, you wouldn't know. 

Throwing the fur blanket off of you, you moved backwards, hands grabbing one of the many sticks that held the tent together. You snapped it in the middle, smiling at the sharp point on the end. 

This would be as good a weapon as any. 

Now, all you had to do was wait. 

You spent a few more minutes in the tent, shoving a few blankets underneath the fur you'd been sleeping under as you took shelter in the back of the tent, blue eyes narrowed as you waited for someone to enter. 

You did not have to wait for too long, body tensing as the curtain was pulled backwards, a tall, dark-skinned man entering with a bowl of steaming substance. 

You watched as he kneeled beside the pallet, placing the bowl aside before folding his hands in a prayer-like fashion. 

You frowned in confusion, brows furrowing as you watched him whisper a silent prayer before placing his hands on what he believed to be you. 

"My goddess," He mumbled softly, "It is time for you to arise. You must eat."

Goddess?

He frowned in confusion as the lack of response from what he believed to be you.

You shot forward as he pulled the blanket back, taking him fully by surprise. 

You wrapped your arm around his throat, shoving the sharp end of the stick into the crevice below his jaw, drawing a little blood. 

He swallowed hard, eyes full of fear. 

"Goddess--"

"Where am I?" You interrupted, whispering in a commanding tone. "How did I get here?"

"Y-You are on the Lost Island, my goddess. The sea sent you to us after the storm."

Your brows furrowed. 

"Lost Island?"

Well, washing ashore would certainly explain how you came to be on the Island in the first place. 

"My goddess, you were sleeping when we found you," He continued nervously, "We wish no harm upon you. We only wish to serve you as you have surely come to bless us."

"Stop calling me that. I am no goddess. Who are you?"

He hesitated for a moment. 

"M-My name is Alon. My father is the chief of this village. It was my honor to serve you."

Your head was spinning at all the information and the sea water than burned your lungs. 

"Am I the only one here?"

He shook his head slowly. 

"No, goddess. Soon after your arrival, two vessels anchored in the shallows. Many men came searching for you."

You almost cursed aloud. 

The crew. 

"Where are they?"

"We captured them." He explained, "They are under guard and awaiting judgment for trespassing."

There was a saving grace. At least your ships were still here. That meant you could still get off of this island. 

You didn't have time to be wasting on this place or these people. 

Slowly, you released the boy, taking a step backwards. He let out a sigh of relief, hand coming to rub at the sore spot on his throat where you'd been holding him. 

"Take me to them. I wish to speak with my men."

He paused for a moment, brown eyes searching yours for a few moments. He was clearly nervous. 

"I am afraid that will be quite difficult, my goddess...The men are mortal--outsiders. Allowing them to be in your presence would be a great insult to you indeed."

"I asked you to stop calling me that." You spat, "I am no goddess. I am merely a human and I am demanding to speak with those men."

He shook his head, taking a step towards you. 

"My goddess, I cannot allow it. My father would be most upset if you were to leave the tent--"

"I've no care about your father nor his feelings on the matter of my leaving. I'll not stay in this tent if I don't feel so compelled."

Alon swallowed hard. 

"Please do not force our hand, my goddess. I was told to keep you here until the ceremony even if I must use force."

His eyes widened as you let out a loud laugh, twirling the stick in your hand as your eyes narrowed. 

"If you wish to try, be my guest." You gritted, "However, I cannot promise that you will walk away from it unscathed."

He spluttered out a few words as you shoved the curtain to the tent open, the sunlight blinding you for a brief moment. 

You blinked fervently, eyes adjusting to the light as sounds of muttering and gasping filled your ears. 

You frowned in confusion as you looked around, stumbling back slightly at the sigh surrounding you. 

There were people--hundreds of people gathered around the tent, each one of them sinking to their knees before falling on their faces before you, muttering out praises in a foreign tongue as they turned their palms upwards towards the sky. 

You were in utter shock. 

These people were worshipping you?

You barely registered the sound of the tent opening as Alon stepped into the light, moving to stand beside you. 

"We had hoped to keep you away from the crowds until the ceremony tonight. We did not think you would appreciate being surrounded constantly."

You clenched your jaw, brow twitching. 

"What exactly is going on here?"

"We are only giving you the praise you are worthy of, my goddess."

Your brows jumped at the new voice that filled your ears, head snapping to the side. 

A tall, heavy-set man approached you, his skin darkened from the sun and his body adorned in clothes fashioned from long grass and what appeared to be seashells. Atop his head was a crown made from palm leaves and he walked with an heir of importance, a few younger women following behind him, their heads bowed sheepishly as they tried to avoid making eye contact with you. 

This must be the chief. 

"As I have told your son," You started, eyeing him, "I am no goddess nor do I want any praise from you or your people. I am intent on speaking with my men."

His smile only widened at your statement, a laugh sounding from him.

"You cannot be allowed in the company of such disgraceful men, my goddess. You are a priceless jewel--a gift from the sea, brought to us in our time of need. Your beauty is unmatched throughout the world and your eyes shine as though they were fallen stars."

"Listen, dude--"

"Chief Multa, my goddess."

Your eyes narrowed. 

"Dude," You repeated, "I honestly couldn't care less about what you believe me to be, but I can assure you that I am not a goddess. You believing that I am will do nothing to change that fact. It will also do nothing to stop me from gutting you with this very pointy stick unless you allow me to see my men. Do I make myself clear?"

His eyes widened at your threats, brown orbs sparkling with interest as he nodded slowly. 

"It truly is you, my goddess. You have come to write the new age in blood."

Your palm met your face. 

"Oh dear god."

"I will allow you to see the trespassers," Multa started, "But the celebrations will begin soon, so I cannot give you too much time with them. The women will need plenty of notice before you take your vows."

You furrowed your brows, giving him a look of curiosity. 

Deciding not to question him, you allowed him to lead you away from the tent you had previously occupied. 

Eventually, you ended up in front of a large cage-like structure made from what appeared to be some kind of thick wood. 

There were two guards with spears guarding the only door on the large prison. You made sure to make a mental note of their large size. 

You could see the men through the openings in the cage, sighing in relief that no one appeared to be too injured. 

"I will speak to them alone."

Multa opened his mouth to contradict you, but one hard look had him silenced and dismissing the guards before walking away himself. 

You approached the cage, peering inside. 

"Are you alright?"

Jimin's head shot up from where he was sitting, eyes instantly shooting to yours, widening with shock. 

"You're alive?" He asked, voice full of relief, "We thought they'd-"

"What happened to you?" Jungkook interrupted, moving to stand in front of you, "We came to search for you, but those humans took us by surprise."

You waved him off, eyes searching through the cage. 

"Where is Bluebeard?" You asked, "And Thomas?"

Jimin stood to his feet, walking over to where you stood. 

"Bluebeard remained on the ship with him. He didn't want to risk us being slowed down. As far as I know, they're safe."

You nodded in understanding. 

"Good."

"Y/N, listen. I think that there's something wrong here. I don't know who these people are, but I heard them talking about some kind of ceremony. I think it may have something to do with y-"

"I can't worry about that right now," You interrupted, "We have bigger things to discuss."

Jungkook tilted his head. 

"Like what?"

You smiled. 

"Like getting off this island."

A/N,

THINGS ARE GETTING INTERESTING. 

TEEHEEHEE

I LOVE YOU!

I ADORE YOU!

I PURPLE YOU!

I'M OUT!

-Max