Sun Smuggler

A low bellow coursed through my body, shaking me, as the vibration of the ship’s foghorn roared two decks above. Wakeup call. I stretched my arms and legs as I tossed around in my canvas hammock, savouring the mere seconds of peace. I rose my sullied hands up to my face, rubbing sunken, weary eyes. With my creased knuckles I began scraping the film that glued my eyelids shut. This film appears on everything, unbiased. It gathers on your eyelids, hands, and feet. No one is immune, not my fellow mates nor the cook, not even the Captain, and most certainly not I. This film is the Salt. The Salt that lingers in the damp air of this wretched place, the Salt that commands the tides of the Shadowy Sea and the Salt that fills any old Skulker’s veins, just like mine.

After freeing my eyes from the veil, I peered around the crew deck from port to starboard scanning for my crewmates. Promptly, I was met with a shallow gaze by three and a half pairs of eyes glowing in the dark by green candlelight. There should have been four and a half. A creaking sound echoed the room disrupting our collective silence. The ropes suspending the hammock next to mine stretched and swung empty. I looked back at my comrades and gave them a cold, solemn nod. I closed my eyes once more. “Aye, Salt’s taken ‘im,” said the one-eyed deckhand. “Aye,” I whispered, along with my other mates. We all knew it was going to be a long night, it has been three days since we ran out of food on our voyage. At least we did not hear his screams. At least it was not me. The four of us rolled out of our hammocks as the sound of leather boots stomped down from the steps above. The second shift has come to an end. I straightened up my striped cotton shirt and buttoned up my breeches as a stubby man stood next to me getting ready to sleep in my hammock. We shared bunks you see. Once I was ready, I set out along with my crewmates passing by the other deckhands giving everyone a silent nod. After taking the first step up the stairwell, something struck me odd about the appearance of these men. Their bellies seemed full this morning. The thought that followed came to me unsurprising like lightning in a storm. Pursing my lips, I began my ascent up the stairs.

On our gradual climb we passed by the mess deck and the thunderous snore of the scabby cook, fast asleep in his greasy hammock. The ship’s cook is an unyielding man with no redeeming qualities, his snore reminded me of a beast in the dark. His face covered with scars and scabs that protruded like the barnacles on the side of our ship’s hull. I never had a chance to look at his face up until now, every time I found myself in the mess, his face was hidden behind a pot, obscured in a cloud of steam. The scabby man stirred as he slept, bothered by the noise of uninvited guests. He waved his arms erratically as if fighting a phantasmic assailant. Dark crimson droplets flew from his fingertips as I realized his hands were covered in fresh blood. I shuddered, wondering where it came from, or from whom. We crept quietly to no avail. The sound of our footsteps echoed between the floors of the ship, followed by loud obscenities from the cook. I imagine that this is what hail would sound like, at least from the tall tales I have heard from those who claimed to be from the Surface Sea. I did my best to walk softly, not to disturb the beast any further.

It has been fourteen days since we set sail, but it is hard to tell in this world of darkness. Fragments of one’s mind tend to slip the further out you go. I looked up at my mates as we passed the threshold between decks and I tried to remember their names. I wondered if they thought about our missing man. Seemingly, he was forgotten too. Perhaps that is the fate of all sailors here, soon to be forgotten like a droplet in the sea.

Rising to the top deck we were met by the Captain, wrapped head to toe in bandages, and the first officer, a woman with auburn hair and black spectacles. “Attention!” yelled the first officer, “wait for your assigned duties.” One mate was sent to the helm, another to man the gun. The one-eyed man was sent to the engine room, and then there was me. I stood patiently as my comrades marched to their assigned positions. The Captain turned their head toward me with an intense glare, their eyes glowing with the colour of amber. It felt like I was being burned by the sun. At least, what I imagined it would be like to stand under the light of the sun. “You, scrub the deck!” barked the red-haired lady. With my head down I replied, “Aye, buckets it is ma’am.”

For the next several hours, I scrubbed every square inch of the top deck from bow to stern. The Captain and the first officer would walk back and forth, passing by me periodically. They would converse in hushed tones about obtaining the ‘goods’ and where to make port. Every time I could only hear the first officer talk. The Captain never seemed to speak or even have a voice for that matter. On my third-round scrubbing from the bow, I made out a name, ‘Solace’. The name of a fabled island off in the far eastern side of the Shadowy Sea, a bountiful piece of land with wondrous fruits and fervent life. Illuminated by the sun that seeped through a hole in the ceiling of the world. “Aye, Solace,” the one-eyed man once told me, “I saw it once, like a golden ship on the horizon. Only Sun Smugglers and sailors with a death wish go there. The beauty and warm embrace of the sun is like a good bottle ‘o rum, it’ll warm your bones and kill you twice as fast. It’ll burn Skulkers like you and I to dust if you ain’t smart!”

I have heard other tales of the Shadowy Sea from the one-eyed man before, but I never thought they had held any weight to them. His stories always had an air of caution and thrill, one with a laugh and one with a chill down your spine. I thought the stories were just to pass the time. One of his tall tales was about the Captain, with a few iterations. He had told me that the Captain was once a privateer for the Royal Navy that fell to the temptation of the sun. That they rose to the Surface Sea on this very ship. Upon reaching the Surface, they tore off their clothes and stood bare. Arms open and eyes wide, the sun burned every inch of skin off their body. They screamed in agony and joy until their voice burned away and their eyes turned to amber. The Captain nearly turned to dust when the first officer dove from the shadows and dragged them down to the lower decks of the ship. The one-eyed man continued by saying that the two were cursed and blessed by the sun. The red-haired lady, now blinded, was granted the ability to hear other’s thoughts. The Captain forever bandaged, could no longer speak, but can now see into one’s soul. Their fates intertwined. The two shared the same desire, to steal the light of the sun. They would sail between seas capturing the light inside a magic box and smuggling it down below to sell it to the highest bidder. The Captain and the first officer became the first and the finest Sun Smugglers in the world. Until one day, the path to the Surface Sea had vanished. And now here we are on a course set for Solace, the island under the sun.

I continued to scrub the deck creeping my way inch by inch toward the stern. The one-eyed man’s tale stuck to my mind like the hardened film on the floorboards. The story of the Captain and the first officer intrigued me. I went over it in my head again and again as I brushed the film away: the marvel of the Surface Sea and the accompanying land. Something so beautiful, warm, and nourishing cannot possibly be that bad. I entertained the idea of taking on the role as the Captain, and what it must have been like to feel that gold embrace. I then paused to think of who the first officer would be. I gritted my teeth when I thought of the one-eyed man. Then, shuddered when the scabby cook crossed my mind. Shaking my head, I played the story out again.

It had been a while before I realized that I have been scrubbing the same spot. The splinters in the sponge were indicative of my growing fixation. I sat there for a moment with the bucket between my legs as I plucked the bits from the sponge. Could it all be true? The temptation, warmth, and terror of sunlight? Before I pondered further, two shadows had cast over me. I turned to face the stare of the Captain while the red-haired lady shot a crooked smile.

“Land ho! Land ho!” yelled the helmsman. “Alas, Solace in our grasp!” cheered the red-haired lady. I jumped in excitement as the island of Solace bloomed under the heavenly ray of the sun. The foghorn bellowed two short bursts announcing our long-awaited arrival. A low thunder of footsteps could be heard as all the crewmembers clambered up the steps to witness this awe-inspiring sight. I ran to the bow of the ship as we began our approach. We watched as the gold beam grew brighter, as if the crack in the ceiling could no longer hold the weight of the sun. About a mile from the shore, I felt a numbing pain as the Captain struck me in the back of the head. “Aye, you filthy ingrates!” screamed the first officer, “Drop anchor! Helmsman you have the deck. Prepare the boat!” I heard the deckhands scurry in all directions to fulfill the officer’s demands. The red-haired lady pulled me up by the collar of my shirt and breathed hot air down my throat, “You are coming with us.”

I sat across from the Captain and the first officer as I paddled the craft toward the island behind me. The first thing I felt was the heat radiating off my back as we got closer. I glanced up at the Captain as his eyes changed from amber to gold, in his lap he held a wooden box. The first officer took a deep breath as we beached the boat, then, she opened her mouth as the sun illuminated her entire body. I followed behind leaving trails in the hot sand. I felt the light engulf my entire body like an invisible wave, taking me away. I closed my eyes. My skin felt raw as an object was placed in my hands. “Open it.” Said the first officer. Without hesitation I peeled the lid off the box that was now in my hands. I screamed and I cried as the light was sucked in like a whirlwind of fire, trapping it in its new cell. The land went dark around me as if the crack in the ceiling disappeared with the sun. I stood there shaking and alone. My body, charred and blackened, cracked as the weight of what transpired destroyed me. I fell and I turned to dust. The ship pulled away into the void as the foghorn beckoned. Wakeup call.