A Setting Sun

I couldn’t explain why—getting impaled by the end of a bayonet or finding oneself too close to the barrel of a gun seemed gruesome, yet something about their spilt-second morality hardly compared to drowning. There would be no blood when water trickled into my lungs, or screaming as the waves swallowed me alive, no option of having “any last words,” or martyrdom. No, drowning was serene in a way more violent than any amount of guts and gore could challenge.

Now that I stood here, face over my ship's railing, I could still say with confidence that I would rather take a shot than find myself at the sea’s mercy.

This was a reality, too. The crew didn’t know it yet, but they faced this fate. In truth, our wooden ship had been lost for days, wandering in arbitrary directions with an undying hope that it would soon reach an enemy ship.

I knew it wouldn’t.

“Good morning, Westland.”

My first mate leaned on the railing besides me as a sprinkle of rain began, a telltale sight of another evening storm .

“We were supposed to reach enemy ships two weeks—“

“We’ll get there soon,” I interrupted.

Normally I was calmer, a voice of reason instead of distain, but the salt and guilt had gutted my head and we both knew it.

“This is naval warfare and I haven’t seen another ship in weeks,” he pressed again.

“I have it under control!” I snapped.

We watched mournfully as the waves lapped hungrily at the side of our ship and as the rain picked up.

“If you weren’t my friend, I’d push you over right now,” he whispered.

I couldn’t meet his gaze.

“And what would that solve?’

“Nothing,” he laughed in disbelief, “But you got us into this mess. Do you know how satisfying it would be to throw you overboard? By the Gods, you’re a captain and you can’t navigate a bad storm! If I had any taste for vengeance, you’d be a dead man!”

“Allister,” I mumbled, “We either turned or we capsized—“

“Better to drown than to starve,” he yelled.

“We are alive because of my actions—“

“And we will die a worse death because of them, too.”

I stared at him. Our final days and we were acting like this, grief blindsiding us. In desperation, I let my eyes search his. I tried to find that spark I found in him years ago when I made him my first mate—no, more than that, when I made him my friend—and in a painful moment, I thought I had lost sight of it entirely. Yet, as it always did, his gaze met mine in such a way that forced a weak smile to warm my features. Of course, Allister would never lose his ways.

“Allister,” I sighed, “I made a mistake.”

“I know, Westland,” he mumbled, “I wish I could say something better, but these men will figure out their fate eventually. You need to tell them; without anyone to blame, it’ll be anarchy.”

“Pirates are a vengeful bunch. I’d be dead by dawn.”

“You’re dead either way.”

“Give me one more day.”

“I’ve given you too many already.”

“That wasn’t a question, Allister.”

A glint of rebellion burned in his eyes, his jaw clenched, and his muscles shifted under his skin as if he were about to lunge forward and throw us both over the edge. Still, he went silent, giving a superficial nod and slinking off back to the bowels of the ship to spread another round of fallacy.

Before I knew it, I was back in my room, the smell of dirty ship water and mold more prominent than ever. Raindrops battered the ship and echoed inside my room. I lazily leaned on my wall, staring blankly as water dripped through the wooden boards above me. Gods, I needed to find my way home. Never had I longed for something so sincerely—my heart yearned for return, my mind for survival, and my stomach for something besides fish bathed in salt.

This was a product of my doing. A nasty storm caught us blind and I insisted we turned south to avoid the worst of it. Some of the ships sunk—they had to have, as that night the weather was not simple phenomena, but another creature entirely. Fingers of lightning dug into the sea and waves grew and collided, going rouge with the power to capsize even the largest of our fleet. A day later, and no real damage to our ship had been done, but we were well and truly lost.

I dropped my head against the wall with a little thud. A drip of leaking water hit the scruff of my neck.

“Dammit.”

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” I yelled, my voice surely reaching the ears of anyone on the ship who bothered to listen. The guilt was overwhelming, and to think I could do nothing but wait and hope with my fingers crossed like a child wishing on shooting stars.

Survival was nothing more than a guessing game, and more than anything I wanted to admit to the crew that I was wrong. But even in guilt, I wasn’t a fool. I would stay silent, fingers crossed, and determine the direction for our ship to die.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I voiced.

The door opened weakly, creaking open to reveal a young crew member, a child.

Merely sixteen, maybe seventeen, with eyes ablaze with rage and something I couldn’t yet pinpoint. His hair was wild, a sure sign of too many days at sea, and had heavy, deep eyebags, a sure sign of being profusely and relentlessly overworked.

I didn’t say anything to him, just as he didn’t say anything to me.

Sweat broke out along my brow; in his hand laid a little shine of silver that gave the impression it was newly sharpened.

“Hey,” I whispered, “is everything alright?”

Horror sprung into his eyes, his fingers shaking wildly, his control unraveling. A superficial smile slipped its way onto my features. Outside, thunder bellowed.

“Do you have a knife?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Who told you to come here?”

“Allister,” he cried.

“Please, put the knife down.”

He only gave a little shake of his head, his eyes red and pained.

“I need you to come with me,” the boy whispered, his voice shaking and cracking at every syllable.

I considered for no more than an instant—he wouldn’t hurt me if I didn’t give him a reason to.

“Alright,” I smiled.

His eyes flickered around my face, and only now did I notice the toll the last few weeks had taken on the crew. His thinned limbs were a sure sign of rationed food, and his sunken gaze a testament to the restlessness all of us felt. I knew what I had done was detrimental, but somehow seeing this broken crewmember in front of me made it a reality.

“Where to?” I ask.

“Outside.”

Before I knew it, he could no longer meet my gaze.

We stepped out, soon met with the howl of the sea's storm, wind thrashing and rain racing in relentless curtains. Light crawled across the sky, roaring with power.

Everyone was here, laying in wait and bearing themselves against the elements. Allister glanced at me with solemn regret in his dark eyes.

This was an execution.

“Allister!” I demanded, “What is this?”

He only gave a shake of his head, his gaze now cloaked by downpour of rain.

“You can’t be serious,” I cried, only to be drowned out by the whirl of thunder.

My eyes went blank as I felt a thin tip press into my back, pushing me forwards.

“Allister, why?” I practically begged. I didn’t expect an answer—I only spoke to hear my voice.

I found myself at the railing of the ship, pressed against it.

“Allister,” I cried again, but he was now lost in the sea of people surrounding me.

The sky roared above me and the sea roared below.

“Stab me,” I pleaded, loud and desperate to the boy behind me.

My stomach churned as a voice cracked, “Allister said jump.”

I gave a choked sob, desperately looking out towards the gray horizon—by some miracle maybe there was land, or another ship.

“Jump,” he said rougher now, pushing the tip of the knife nearly hard enough to break skin.

I gave a shake of my head, my legs shaking and my throat tight against the rise of bile. Mindlessly, I was climbing the side of the ship, standing upon the thin railing, facing the endless ocean in front of me. Wind whipped wildly and the salt in the air was strong enough to taste.

The horizon was empty.

I could take them down with me. Pull the knife tucked in my belt and fall Allister, too, or drag this kid into the hungry ocean alongside me.

I take a final glance behind me. Through the sheets of rain, I meet Allister’s gaze.

Oh, Allister.

I look forward.

Dearest Allister.

I step over the edge.