The Dawning

I was being crushed under the stifling silence of the night- an intangible weight that kept pressing down and down upon my chest until I was left gasping for air. Sweaty strands of hair stuck to my face, the air muggy and thick with fog. The sea of Alethea carried with it a salty breeze that did nothing to ease the unsettling feeling in my stomach right now. I felt trapped.

Tick, tick.

Above me, the vast expanse of the sky was glittered with faint and flickering stars. I tried not to breathe too hard, as if a single gust of air could blow them out. They had been bright once, all blinding, and loud, and boisterous – a golden map of promise. How many hours had I spent braving unchartered waters under their trusted directions? But no more, they had gotten dimmer now, like a dying flame on the wick of a candle, sinking into an endless pool of obsidian wax. And I had gotten tired.

The night had seemed young, as if between now and tomorrow, it could stretch on for eternity. Only, I could see it for what it really was – an illusion trying to lull me to sleep. The dawn was coming, I could feel it with every inhale and exhale of breath that settled heavier and heavier inside my lungs. It had been eons since the sun had last risen, exposing me to its brilliant light, and I gulped, nauseous. I needed the night to last forever.

I was sailing westward, towards the Port of Pyrite, aptly named after its abundant supply of the mineral. It had gorgeous rolling green hills, as far as my memory served me, with clear, blue lagoons. Most importantly, though, it was a safe cocoon of darkness wherein I could live with my sins in bliss. It was a refuge – the place where the sun rises last – and I figured at most, it would buy me some time. I had with me only Sofia and a queer, dull pocket watch for company, but they could make for scintillating conversation if I had the imagination for it. Sofia was my barn owl, this cunning and tattered old thing that had now begun to get restless inside her cage. She had never taken well to the sea, and I could tell she was just as eager as I was to reach the port.

Tick, tick.

I didn’t know if it was just me or if the watch had gotten louder now, taunting almost. I debated chucking it overboard while Sofia began urgently nipping at her cage.

Drip, drip.

This was new. I whipped my head upwards as a raindrop fell down my cheek like a lone tear. It was raining? The stars in the sky were long gone now, instead massive gray clouds loomed overhead, and my heart plummeted. I could see a faint, red glare coming from the east. I bent over the hull and emptied the contents of my stomach.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. My hands were jittery, and my legs had become jelly. I just needed more time. That’s it. More time, more time, more time- that’s all I needed. I took out my pocket watch and tossed it overboard. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to toss myself overboard. I didn’t want to breathe. I was being torn apart by the sharp stabs of this torrential downpour.

Large, tumultuous waves began rocking the boat. My knuckles turned white as I clutched onto the mast. My teeth were chattering, and I was cold, oh so cold. Sofia was now thrashing violently against her cage that had fallen into the floor, clearly panic-stricken. Unnervingly, though, her ghostly pale face remained as expressionless as ever.

Tick, tick.

I cried out a loud, bellow of frustration. I no longer had that wretched watch with me, but I heard its taunts all the same. I wanted to tear out my hair and hide somewhere, anywhere, when I watched as the world came to a standstill. A wave as tall as the sky loomed beside me, unmoving, as if waiting for me to do something. Sofia had stopped thrashing about now too, her eyes two endless black pits of abyss boring into my soul. Tick, tick.

Somewhere between the seconds that had stretched into hours, I made my decision. I closed my eyes and charged at the sea. The boat tipped over. I could hear the sound of the wave crashing, the loud beat of wings, and finally – everything went black.

I felt weightless…breathless. I was sinking further and further into the deep end, I was drowning in the pool of obsidian wax, I was burning in the blazing heat of the sun, and I was –

I sat up, coughing and spluttering salt water out of my nose.

I distinctly heard the flapping of wings somewhere to the right and I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Had I dreamt the storm? All around me were clear skies and dry earth, there showed no signs of the tempest. My shoulders sagged in relief – I must have washed up ashore in the Port – before I shifted uncomfortably. I was sitting on fine white sand, and I saw my shirt in tattered ruins. Then, my eyes widened in horror. Everything was white.

I could see it all. For the first time in a millennium, my world was illuminated in stark, splendid light, exposing every pore and crevice to my sight. There lay mountains of waste surrounding me, and the lagoon I once thought clear, was murky and black against the white grains of the sand.

No, no, no. It couldn’t be.

My lungs couldn’t work, and I didn’t know when I had been moved to tears but there was no stopping it now. It was ugly, and loud and pathetic. There were blisters forming in my skin and I hardly registered the pain when the hoot of an owl drew my eyes to a nearby oak. Sofia was perched atop a high branch, picking up a dead mouse with her beak. She looked at me now, her gaze cool and resolute, before shifting towards the water. A beckoning.

The spoiled shirt fell from my torso as I stood now, bare-chested underneath the sun’s scorching stare. I limped to the coast in the sweltering heat, the bottom of my feet scraped red and raw. My knees dropped onto the coarse, gritty sand in silent prayer, and I looked down at the sea to see myself staring back. My hair was a wet, matted mess, my cheeks gaunt and eyes bloodshot but I let a weak smile pull at my bloodied lips.

Something like laughter bubbled deep within my stomach and I released it, feeling lighter than I had in years.