Pages: 140
Genre: YA Fantasy
A fearless captain and a mysterious girl who walks on water. An underwater city and a destined deadly curse. What could possibly go wrong?
Captain Jorah is renowned for being one of the youngest explorers to ever sail Zephyrian waters. He’s also notorious for landing his crew in situations they hadn't counted on, involving man-eating mermaids and other dangerous misadventures.
When Jorah decides to search for the legendary underwater City of Larimar, he doesn't account for the quest that follows. After being rescued from shipwreck by a mysterious young woman who walks on water and carries a singing seashell around her neck, he soon finds himself reunited with an old friend once thought lost to him. Before he knows it, he’s caught up in a race against time to save her yet again, this time from a looming prophecy about a deadly serpent destined to consume her entire race.
Can Jorah help her save her people before the dark prophecy completes itself?
The Amielian Legends is a collection of stand-alone young adult books, all set in the same fantastic universe, that can be read in any order. Read Larimar: Gem of the Sea today to discover new worlds filled with adventure, diverse characters, and whimsical magic.
Excerpt
Captain Jorah stood proudly aboard the Gem, smiling as his ship departed from the shores of Muriel. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, relishing its warmth on his fair skin, paler than usual from being cooped up too much this past winter. With a deep inhale, he savored the salty air and released a contented sigh. How good it felt to be one with his beloved ocean once more.
As they picked up speed, the wind tousled his shoulder-length hair about his face. He pulled the unruly locks back, tying them with a bit of twine, and a fond, bittersweet memory played before him. His mother, washing his hair as a young lad, admiring how its golden-brown hues were the same as his father’s. When he grew older, she would run her hands through his hair and say it was golden-brown like the sands of the distant lands he longed so much to discover. Much as he relished this life of adventure, he oft times wished he could trade it for one more simple, precious night with Mama, sitting on the shoreline, talking, and dreaming of a better life. At least he had fulfilled the greater part of her dream by building that life for himself, and so he would go on doing, with each new quest he undertook.
Jorah watched his kingdom of Muriel as it shrank on the horizon. The castle stretched high on the cliffs, its gold-gilded turrets glistening in the rising sun’s prismatic glow. The flags atop the turrets bore Muriel’s royal standard of two aqua-colored seals swimming in a perfect circle on a dark blue backdrop. As the flags waved at the matching banners that flew from the Gem’s masts, Jorah could almost imagine the castle bid him a fond farewell.
Then again, truth be told, he had seen little inside the castle’s walls in the past few years. He hardly recalled the feel of his fine satin sheets or the taste of fine wine. He preferred to be on the go, always seeking his next quest. At nineteen, he had already explored as many of Zephyr’s Islands as could be reached, discovering many unique creatures and plant life, including what had since become the most popular breeds of Thebazilian foxes. He was also one of few who’d dared to travel to the mysterious Western Realm, learning much from the diverse cultures he encountered there.
Jorah had abandoned a life of luxury to pursue his life-long curiosity. He did not seek gold or silver. Nor did he seek to conquer or establish new lands. No, the most favored treasure he sought was that of ancient civilizations, myths, and legends.
Thus, as Jorah bid Caracol, his first mate, to follow him into his cabin, Caracol inwardly groaned. What harebrained mission had the captain concocted this time? Were they searching for trolls, elves, or perhaps narwhals? Caracol hoped it was narwhals. He had always fancied seeing the great “unicorns who ruled the seas.”
Of course, Caracol, like the rest of the crew, looked up to Jorah. He was a good captain and an intelligent man. But Caracol also wasn’t the only member of the crew to question their captain’s sanity from time to time.
When the crew had first come together, they had thought Jorah crazy for believing in the ridiculous legends he was always digging up. Now, they thought him crazy because the legends nearly always proved true, and yet he still insisted on pursuing such “exhilarating journeys,” as he cheerfully called their oft-near-death experiences. The most exhilarating thing the crew usually found about such quests was the trip home, especially after their last mission, where they had nearly been devoured by man-eating mermaids.
Blessed Amiel, Caracol breathed the silent prayer with a shiver, as he recalled the mermaids’ slimy hands clawing at him. Please let it be anything but mermaids.
Despite his nagging worries, Caracol remained silent as he followed his captain into his cabin. After all, Jorah had kept them alive thus far. Surely, he would keep them safe on whatever new mission he had in store.
As Jorah unrolled one of the huge maps and spread it wide on the table, Caracol watched the familiar, eager glint leap into his captain’s bright green eyes.
“This,” Jorah said, pointing to a location on the map, “this is our new destination.”
Caracol peered over Jorah’s shoulder and instantly felt a headache coming on. His captain didn’t even point to a landmark. Rather, he pointed to some random part of the Zephyrian Ocean. Those usually ended up being the worst kinds of adventures. The mermaids’ seaweed stench rushed back to him, making his stomach roil.
Swallowing hard, he said, “That’s in the middle of the Zephyrian Ocean, Captain.”
“Yes, Caracol, and do you know what’s in the middle of the Zephyrian Ocean?”
Caracol didn’t have any idea, but he had the reluctant feeling that he would momentarily find out.
“I don’t know, Captain.”
“The ancient City of Larimar, also known as the ‘Gem of the Sea!’” Jorah tensed, as though he might burst from his rush of excitement. “It’s the legendary city of the Larimar people, named after one of their ancient queens, ‘Larine,’ and ‘mara,’ their word for ‘sea.’ The Larimar people are elves, skilled in magic that allows them to control the very ocean waves…”
Elves, Caracol reflected, as the captain rambled on. Elves aren’t so bad. The last elves they had encountered had given them weapons, jewels, and other gifts. The King of Arabis had been quite impressed with all they had brought to trade, after that expedition. Caracol began to feel a bit more at ease.
“...with amazing buildings constructed from the larimar stone. It’s the most magnificent city ever built on the ocean floor.”
Oh, dear, Caracol thought. Ocean floor. Of course, there had to be a downfall somewhere. His thoughts darted back to mermaids, and a knot twisted in the pit of his stomach.
“On the ocean floor, Captain? How will we know where to stop sailing and dive below? How will we know when we’ve found this city?”
The determined, decisive gleam Caracol had witnessed far too often in Jorah’s eyes flashed in them now as he said, “Oh, we’ll know, Caracol. Believe me. If the legends are true, and I’ve never yet pursued a legend that wasn’t based in some truth, we’ll know.”
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