The Final Sail

I am an old mariner, this much is true. I have sailed all seven of the seas that surround this world. I have dipped my toes into the white sands of the Caribbean. I have bled from the stinging winds of the north seas. I have worn albatrosses around my neck and I have slain them as they flew about my ship. I have seen ghost ships piloted by ghost crews and despaired them. I have followed sirens to near disaster on reefs no map can find. I am betrothed to the sea and consigned to it. I was born just another sacrifice to Poseidon and Davy Jones. One day, when I have gathered enough pain and scars in service to the sea, they will call in my debt.

There are always beginnings and since the world began, they've signaled the end of what came before. You could live for a thousand years and you will find that the one immutable truth to life, is that everything dies and everything becomes something else at its end. Not everyone, though, gets to choose their end. When I volunteered as a deck hand on the Charlamagne, that's exactly what I had done.

My final offering to the sea will be swabbing decks and rigging sails. My hands will be blistered and raw at the end, before they've had time to callous over as they were permanently in days past. Probably, I will be in my cups when the time comes, but perhaps not. The salt air has often had a sobering effect on the drunkard. We will see.

The captain of the Charlamagne seems a decent man for a privateer, only an official paper separating him from piracy, but not, I have come to learn, a patient one. As I have stated, I am an aged mariner and I do not move as quickly or for as long a period of time as I did in my salad days, if you'll pardon my stealing from the Bard. But, I can tie a knot as well as any man and I can predict the wind and rain better than any sheep or turtle. So, when he sicks his first mate on me, which is often, it's with more grace than most of his interactions.

"You're wanted at the wheel, old man", he says to me.

"Yes, sir," I say.

He's a large man, the captain, born into a minor nobility in southeastern France, likely the genesis of his impatient nature. Despite his heritage and station, he commanded the wheel at least one shift daily either out of duty or distrust, I couldn't tell. Whatever skill I had at predicting the weather, the captain had at navigating his way through it. His appointment may have come through peerage, but he was a first rate seaman.

"What do you make of those clouds, mariner," he says. I do not have an official rank and I have not given out my true name freely in a long time, so, I am mariner and I am not bothered by the appellation.

"They're strange," I say. "I did not expect them, true enough. We should have had fair weather until we reached the horn."

"Will they be a problem," the Captain asks.

"I...no, not for this ship, sir," I say. "Storm clouds they may be, but we've weathered worse."

"Very well," he says. "Why don't you take a break and get some rest. I believe I'll need you when we reach them."

"Aye, Captain," I say and rush off below deck.

When I reach my bunk, I pull out my footlocker and throw it open. There is a small idol of Poseidon in the bottom of it and I retrieve it quickly and clutch it to my breast. I have seen storm clouds like those before, long ago. They portend disaster and we'll need all the help we can get. I rest as the captain commanded and utter prayers to the Sea God. Prayers I have not recited in a very long time. They will have to do.

I feel a shudder run throughout the ship and I rise. We are in the storm now and I will be called for momentarily. I place the idol in my pocket and make my way to the deck. When I arrive, I see men running here and there, taking in sails and tying down booms. I rush to the trysail and help the men tie it off. The storm jib is already in place. Then the first mate takes my arm and leads me to the helm.

"This storm is unlike anything I have ever seen, mariner," the Captain yells over the wind. "It cuts into the very wood of the ship. What is this devilry?"

"It is unnatural, Captain," I say. "But it is not from the devil, it is from the gods. We will make it through the storm but it is what is waiting for us on the other side that we need fear. Courage will be our only defense, then."

"Take him below and secure him," the Captain tells the first mate. "We will need him if we survive this."

"Come on, mariner," the first mate growls. "You get to relax while we fight the tempest." He all but throws me down the ladder to the lower deck. "I'm locking you in the brig. If the ship goes down, you'll drown, but so will everyone else. If it doesn't, you'll be safer here than in your bed. I do not trust you, Mariner and I think we may find in the end that all of this is because of you, but until then, I'll do as the Captain commands."

"It is all any of us can do," I say. The first mate only glares at me before rushing back to the deck.

I wrap my arms and legs around the bars of my cage and do my best to ride out the storm in one piece. At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I don't remember feeling the ship come to rest. My eyes fly open and I begin calling for release. The men do not know what is waiting for them but I do and I need to warn them. Eventually, a young deck hand, little more than a child, frees me and I make my way to the deck as quickly as my old legs will take me.

The ship is beached on an island of incredible beauty. The palms are tall and thick and the sands are so white they look like snow. All along the deck, repairs are being made and orders being shouted. Brave men all, relieved and thankful to be alive with no idea what they're in store for. The captain calls me to him.

"Well, this doesn't seem too bad," he says. "We'll affect repairs and search the island for provisions. Then be off in a few days."

"Have you looked at your map," I ask. "Is this island anywhere to be found on it. Repair the ship to make it seaworthy if you must, but I do not think you should go far inland. There is no telling what's living here."

"Something tells me you might know," the Captain replies. "What is this place and why are you afraid of it."

"You would not believe me if I told you," I say. "It is enough to know that this place is dangerous, and we should leave as soon as we are able."

He looks at me in silence for a long moment, then nods. "Very well. First mate, speed up the repairs and make sure we're prepared to launch as soon as they're done. I do not want to linger here."

The first mate glances at me before answering. "Aye, Captain. I'll have us ready within a couple days." He then turns sharply and heads toward the main deck.

"You better be right about this, mariner," the Captain says. "If I deprive my men a chance at a paradise like this for no reason, they might mutiny."

I help with the repairs as best I can and keep a weather eye on the interior of the island. At midday, we stop for food and several of the men argue with the first mate over not being allowed to look for more inland. He points to me and all of them shoot me glares but none of them approach. Not yet, anyway.

The repairs are finished in two days as expected and the Captain has the crew prepare to push off. I have seen nothing from the interior of the island and it makes me wonder if I've been wrong this entire time, after all.

The Charlamagne is about to turn into the wind and away from the beach when loud cracking noises start coming from the island. The crew all turn and watch slackjawed as trees are pushed aside and a huge lumbering creature bursts forth from the forest. I recognize him immediately. The oarsmen start rowing harder and the first mate starts screaming orders at the tug boats to follow suit.

"I smell Nobody on that ship," the giant roars. "I have a very good sense of smell and I never forget a scent. It has been a long time, Nobody. We have waited a long time for Nobody to return."

Everyone looks at me. I shrug. When the Captain approaches me, the look on his face is somber. "Who are you," he asks.

Again, I shrug. "I am Nobody," I say. "He will leave you alone if you give me up."

The first mate grabs me by the arms. "Gladly," he says. He waves for more men to seize me and they carry me to the railing. "I knew we'd have to toss you overboard, Jonah."

"No," I say. "I was cursed long before him." With that, they throw me onto the beach to stand alone against the giant.

"Hello, Nobody," he says.

"Hello, Polyphemus," I reply. "It has been a long time. You were waiting for me?"

"It has and I was," he says. "Did you ever make it home?"

"I did," I reply. "It was not everything I had hoped for."

"That's too bad," he says. He points to the bandage over his one eye. "The pain has gone and with it my anger. I did not have father call you here for revenge. But I think it's time we both left this place, don't you?"

"Aye," I say. "This is no longer a world for myths, is it?"

"No," he says somberly. "From now on, they will only have themselves to blame for the evil in the world."

"I never thought of it that way," I say. "I was always afraid all bad things came from us, but I've lived long enough to know you're right. Each generation is culpable for its actions. We're little more than ghosts in the wind."

"It is as you say," Polyphemus answers. "Father would agree. He has forgiven you also. There is a place prepared for us. There, it will be like the old days once again."

"That sounds nice," I say. "The ship I came on was never in danger was it?"

"No, not from me," Polyphemus admits. "But even their world is changing. There will be monsters we never dreamed of and they'll be left to deal with them alone. Without heroes."

"Was that what I was," I ask. "A hero."

"Yes," he says. "One of the best."

I hear the sailors on the Charlamagne barking orders. They have forgotten what they'd seen here. They have forgotten me. The world goes on. Myths and the deeds for which they're renown, fade.

If I have learned anything in the long years of my life, it is this; the world will need heroes. They might not face giants or witches. They might not be asked to alter the course of rivers or slay hydras. Perhaps, they'll just have to hug their children when they're scared or say no when the world tells them to say yes.

We walk into the ocean together, forgotten myths, men of renown. I'm an old mariner and the sea has always been my mother, and she is calling me home.