Other Worlds

The Legacy of the Sea

Man is master of the sea.

Those were the last words I remember my father saying, though he said them often. He told me that with a sturdy boat and sturdier nerves, the world could be yours.

Sometimes I believe he's still standing on the bow of his ship, looking down at the edge of the world and laughing. My mother, nothing but a weak woman, remarried a land-locked farmer two years after my father's disappearance. She cared only about the welfare of her family and nothing of the world beyond the jeweled sea. No wonder my father would take the rod to her on his returns to the land while finding comfort in the red light district before sailing out again.

I, on the other hand, left the dreary blatter of sheep and the monotonous tilling of soil to follow my father's legacy on the open waters. Some referred to me as Sir Simon the Squeamish, insisting I spent my first journeys clutching the sides and heaving into the ocean. I assure you there is no truth to those fables. I was born with sea legs and destined to command the brackish waters.

Five sundowns ago, I set sail on the Gallant, a fine ship with a strong captain. I've done three prior journeys on this vessel and have come to know the men who challenge the uncharted depths alongside me.

I'm also able to spot the newcomers. Rowan, with his fair hair and wistful gaze, would have stood out regardless.

He was standing on the bow, staring into the empty deep as though he was trying to divine something.

"Greetings," I said as I stepped next to him. "I'm Simon. Your first voyage, I take it?"

"Second," he answered. "Though I am having misgivings."

I laughed. "Why? The weather is cooperating. We have a full galley of slaves below. It will be nice to have an easy course for once."

Rowan shook his head. "I've been below deck. The men speak of K'thoula."

I didn't mean to insult this boy, but I couldn't help but laugh again. "The savages? You speak their language?"

"The men you have chained down below are not savages," Rowan insisted. "I'm from Ulster University. I'm hoping to travel to their island to study them. You would be amazed at their culture. The medicine they create in the jungles could save us from the pestle and pox."

"If they are so advanced, then why were they so easy to capture?" I asked. "They serve us now. If you're so fascinated by these barbarians, why didn't you book passage on a slaver ship? You could have gone to their islands directly?"

"And do you think the tribes would trust me then?" Rowan countered. "No, I need to get experience sailing while earning enough to earn me passage to the islands."

"You plan on living with those beastly men?" I asked. I felt the ship wobbling even though the breeze was slow and steady. "They'll eat you faster than the sea would."

"They're only violent when attacked or being forced into slavery," Rowan argued.

"You may be right," I laughed as droplets from the suddenly churning sea splashed against my forehead. "But what good are the savages otherwise? We're meant to command the sea and command them as well."

"Really?," Rowan mocked me. "You cling to your wooden crafts like ants in a storm. Your survival depends more on luck than anything else."

I held myself back from putting my fist between his teeth as he spoke. "At least we have the courage to venture out," I argued as I clutched to the ship. The waves had suddenly become so rough, it was as though we had just entered an invisible storm.  "The slave tribe below is too afraid of... what's the word. K'thoula? That means monsters, right? They're afraid of monsters."

"K'thoula means the sea too," Rowan explained. "Their words express their relationship to all of nature. It's a connection we've lost. We run headfirst into danger for profit. They respect the ocean."

"Lots of good it's doing them, right?" I chuckled. "Who's chained up down there rowing our boat and who's up here..."

My words were cut off by one of my crewmates shouting and pointing to the sun. Or what was left of it. There were no clouds in the sky but it had vanished as though it never had been.

I tried to maintain my composure. There had to be an explanation.

"What is it that those star watchers at your university call it?" I shouted to Rowan.

"An eclipse," he called back. "But the moon is not forecasted to intersect the sun until..."

I can't remember if I noticed the fear etched on his face before the deafening crash of waves. These sounds were overcome by a monstrous howl . K'thoula was the only word that came to mind.

The ship lurched and I slammed into Rowan. In front of our craft was a creature with a gaping mouth as large as the ship from keel to topmast. My nose was assaulted by the stench of hundreds of regurgitated fish. The cool night sea air was overcome by the monster's desert-hot breath.

For a second, it was as though the sky had been replaced by the creature's mouth and teeth. I stared up and could see nothing else. It then bit down on the front of our craft.

There was a shrieking noise like the boat itself was screaming, though I imagine that it was just the creaking of the timbers that held it together along with the cries of sailors. By instinct, I grabbed on to the handrail just in time to feel myself lifted up in the air with the surviving side of the boat.

Rowan was not nearly so lucky. He rolled down towards the creature's maw. There was so much water and debris that I could not see what happened, but I imagine his fate wasn't pleasant.

I then felt my entire body being slapped as I fell from the boat and slammed into the cold sea. All the screams and cacophony around me faded mercifully into silence.

I don't know how long I was unconscious. I only remember waking up floating. My back was arched upwards and I realized that I was now riding hunched over on one of the barrels from the ship.

I gazed over in horror and saw one of the savages  holding me on to the surface of the floating barrel. For whatever reason, he saw my half lifeless body floating and decided to swim and rescue me. I recognized what appeared to be concern in his eyes. I would never have thought that possible of one of his race.

Not that it mattered. If the waves picked up, there wouldn't be enough room for both of us. Letting him hold my right arm steady, I reached into my belt with the left and pulled out the dagger. A swift slash to his throat and he fell back into the dark sea.

I struggled to pull my wet tired body to the top of the bobbing barrel. I gazed around trying to find some other signs of life. Either I was out for quite a while or this creature had eaten everything it saw. There was no sign of wreckage. It was as though the Gallant had never existed. I was adrift in a sea as black and lonely as the night sky.

But I was alive. I was the only survivor for a reason. I was meant to get out of this. Like my father said, man is master of the sea. I would do whatever I could to ride this out. What tales I would have to tell. I would be a legend.

I then felt the sea churn beneath me. I put my arms around the barrel, scarcely able to stay afloat.

Then it was like being sucked into a cave. The sea vanished and I was inhaled into the creature's giant mouth. Teeth threatened to smash into me like hundreds of swords of Damocles.

No doubt the creature was drawn to the blood that I had spilled and came back for more. I slid off the barrel then spun around wondering if the ocean, the saber teeth or something else would kill me first.

I screamed but salt water filled my lungs and the creature's howl drowned out my frantic cries. My muffled screams seemed to go on forever.

The creature then dove down leaving nothing but sea and sky. That night I died out in the nameless ocean; unsung and forgotten.