Chapter 4: Whispers of the Abyss

Unlike the situation between Tom and Charlotte right now.

Thankfully, Tom's evening melancholy was interrupted by an old friend.

- Captain!

- Rich, is that you?

- Of course, it's no surprise to find you here, but shouldn't you be at home with your wife at this hour?

- Sigh, Rich...

- A man with your education could surely come up with a better line. But you're absolutely right! It's sheltered many of us.

- It's nice to talk to someone who understands me, even if just occasionally.

- Doesn't Miss Warren understand you? I'd say there's no better wife in all of Britain.

- You're right, Rich. Charlotte, she's... She's special. I still remember the day we met—her scent, her fiery eyes, and that mysterious smile. Alluring and ever-changing, just like...

- You meant to say, like the sea, Captain?

- Yes!

- You were truly born to be a great sailor, even choosing a wife who resembles the elements.

- Women and the sea are indeed quite alike. Perhaps that's why they steal our hearts. Don't you think so, Rich?

- My Beatrice was like a storm, indeed. Sometimes I caught myself thinking I feared her furrowed brows more than any storm.

- For me, arguments with Charlotte are like a calm.

- Here we are, two seasoned sea dogs, and yet so faint-hearted...

- Tell me about it... By the way, how much time has passed...?

- It's been almost three years now.

- I'm sorry, my friend...

Beatrice—Richard's wife—passed away three years ago from a fever, while Richard was at sea.
Tom and Charlotte had taken care of her, hiring the best doctors, but her condition never improved.
She smiled until her very last day. Tom often thought that if Richard had been there, perhaps Beatrice could have recovered. Maybe her already strong spirit just needed the sturdy shoulder of her beloved.
Tom reflected on this a lot, especially in the context of his own story with Charlotte, but he could never bring himself to share these thoughts with anyone.
He simply didn't want to hurt Richard, who had grown noticeably grayer since that day.
His friend and loyal boatswain was still himself, but since Beatrice's death, it wasn't hard to see that he was merely playing the part of his former self.

- No need, Captain. I'm sure she wouldn't be happy about that.

- Her magical smile never left her face while she was alive. So let's not make her sad now. A world without magic is so empty.

- As you wish...

- So, how about you? Are you ready to set sail again?

- You could say I never truly left it. In my thoughts, I've always been with the sea.

- You know, Captain...

- What, Rich?

- No... It's better if you don't know... And never find out.

- Come on, don't do that... Tell me!

Tom had a hunch about what Richard wanted to say. He could almost predict everything his friend was about to say. He had thought about it himself, though he didn't feel the same way.
Perhaps that's why he insisted on an answer.
Maybe Tom just wanted to be scolded like a little boy for things he understood with his head but couldn't fully grasp...

- No... It's just that now, nothing holds me back. I can sail the seas as long as I have the strength and vigor. But now, somehow... I don't know... it feels aimless. Even though, haha, it's what I dreamed of my whole life. And just like you, I could never find common ground with Beatrice on this matter.

- I remember... She didn't exactly share your passion either.

- There was a lot she didn't like about me—my taste in food, my love for tobacco. She argued with me so often that I could count the quiet days on my fingers. And you know, Captain, I don't even have a full set of those.

- Yes, Rich, I remember...

- But I'd give anything to see her face again, even if it was angry—yet so... beautiful. But I believe in you and Mrs. Charlotte. I've always looked at you two as an example. So I'm sure you'll work things out. You've always been different... Special. So sort out your issues quickly, and make sure you're not greeted by closed curtains after every expedition.

- Closed curtains, you say...

- It's time for me to go, Captain! We'll meet next week—you know when... And don't upset Mrs. Warren, or you'll have to deal with me!

- Take care, Rich!

- You too! Give my regards to Mrs. Warren.

For some reason, Tom was suddenly pierced by an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Guilt toward Richard, toward himself, toward little Emily, and most of all, toward Charlotte.

- What did Rich mean by that...? What does "aimless" even mean? Why should I feel guilty for my truest desires?

Or perhaps it wasn't about them at all? Maybe something else was gnawing at Tom? Something deeper? Something more hidden.

Something terrifying...

- What's happening to me? I'm so tired of all this.

- You'll rest soon...

- What!? Who's there?!

A strange female voice suddenly answered Tom... Could it just be someone playing a prank!?

- Who's there?!

- You can't see me anyway, Tom...

- But why can I hear you!? What do you want?!

- Very soon, Tom... Very soon, you'll get answers to all your questions. Or rather, you'll fight for them yourself.

- How do you know!?

- Oh, Tom... You have no idea how much I know about you... I might even know you better than you know yourself.

- I don't understand anything! Show yourself!

- It's not time yet. Not yet. I'm sorry. I might have added a bit more anxiety to your already fragile heart, but I just wanted to cheer you up a little. You just need to wait a bit longer—like she does. You two will meet very soon. Oh, how exciting it'll be to see how this changes your fates...

Suddenly, Tom's strength abandoned him. His body felt as though it no longer belonged to him.
Tom collapsed and found himself in the middle of the sea.
A moon loomed on the horizon, and the water around his boat shimmered with eerie green hues.
The sea was calm and quiet. It was just the two of them here, as Tom had always wanted—just him and the sea.
But then, on the horizon, he saw an island, and a wave appeared behind his boat, swiftly carrying him toward it.

On the shore, he saw Charlotte and Emily, Richard, and some unfamiliar boy.
He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.
As soon as Charlotte spotted his boat, she rushed toward the shore and began calling Tom to her. He wanted to shout back, but he couldn't utter a word, as if he were mute.

Tom panicked and tried to use his hands to reach his family faster.
...
Just a moment more, and his boat would reach the shore, when suddenly, a fish's tail emerged from the water.
But judging by its size, it should have belonged to a shark... Yet it wasn't a shark's tail, for its scales shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow.
At that very moment, his boat began to move away from the shore at an incredible speed. It was being pulled in the opposite direction—away from Charlotte and Emily.
This bizarre creature, which Tom couldn't discern through the water's depth, was dragging him back. Back to the sea.

The last thing he saw on the shore was the unfamiliar boy noticing the tail, running into the water, and swimming toward his boat. But halfway there, he began to drown, and after a brief struggle with the waves, his head disappeared beneath the surface, never to resurface.

- Damn it!

Tom suddenly woke up.

- It was just a dream... Just a dream...

Perhaps after Richard left, Tom had become so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice he'd dozed off.
The lullaby of the night waves had enchanted him, carrying all his worries far away to a place no living soul had ever seen.
Or perhaps it had carried him along with them.
But now, Tom was back in the world of the living, and along with the world of dreams, his worries and fears returned—growing with every passing minute.

He wanted to stay at the port as long as possible, to find inner peace in the waves' rhythm once more. But after his conversation with Richard, this place suddenly became repulsive to him.

It was as if the meaning of Richard's words hadn't reached his mind, but the feelings had struck him right in the heart.

And then there was that strange dream... Tom wasn't particularly superstitious, but ignoring such signs would be foolish, and he knew it.
That dream must have meant something... But what?
The strange female voice...
The stranger standing with his family on the shore...
Thankfully, dreams live only in dreams, while the real world is deadly to them.
Tom began to gradually forget the details, no matter how hard he tried to focus on them.
Another hour or so, and all memories of that strange dream faded completely, leaving behind only anxiety... An overwhelming anxiety, the source of which was hidden far from his eyes and mind.
So he left the port and wandered the darkening city for a while longer, lost in his thoughts.