Chapter 9: Echoes of the Lost

Tide's Reversal
Chapter 9: Echoes of the Lost

The evening of the first day at sea had arrived. Everything was going according to plan, and Tom felt better than he had in years.
It wasn't surprising that in ancient times, between a life of bondage and death, people chose death.
Yet it wouldn't be fair to say Tom viewed life on land as bondage.
No, it was simply that his soul yearned for the sea, and now it was finally here.
He had dismantled the bars he'd built himself; now he needed only to understand where he belonged and whether those bars had ever truly existed.

- Rich, check the rigging and then take a break.

- Aye, Captain.

- Good... Change the watch!

- So, how do the first days of freedom feel?

- You talk as if I'm running from something.

- Haha. For the record, I didn't say that.

- Oh, stop it! But to be honest, I haven't felt this good and at peace in ages.

- Someone's going to sleep like a baby tonight.

Indeed. They hadn't even been at sea long when a deep weariness began to overtake Tom.
It felt as though here, at last, he could catch up on all the sleepless nights before departure.
But that wasn't the only reason. He wanted to meet that unknown voice calling to him in his dreams once more.
Tom believed that this time, he might get some answers and find bearings for his journey.

- You're right about that.

- Was it really so bad at home?

- I don't know, Rich. That's why I'm here. This expedition is truly special to me. No matter what, I'll return home with treasures.

- Hope you'll share some with me?

- Haha, undoubtedly. Though I doubt they'll please you.

- That's one of the unwritten laws of all sailors. Only the seasoned wolves know it—whatever delights the captain delights the crew.

- Then the whole crew will have to sweat for it this time!

- I'd expect no less from you!

- It's nice to be back. Feels like I've grown younger by a few years.

- Maybe you never aged a summer in your soul?

- That's exactly what I'm here to figure out.

- Just don't lose your head over it. You know what happens in cases like that.

- Are you hinting at old Steff?

- The one who was a carpenter on our first expedition?

- Him, yes. After his ship sank, Steff was never the same.

From Richard's words, it was clear he hadn't spoken to Steff recently—or heard about his death.

- I heard he was lunging at passersby with a knife.

- That's probably just gossip. You can hear anything about regular folks these days.

- Sad that in our time, someone can so easily slander a decent, honorable man.

- He was a good sailor.

- Remember how he'd tell us tales after watch? We were just boys back then.

- Yeah... Now I tell them to my daughter. But that's not what I meant. I saw him near the church recently; he recognized me. We reminisced a bit about the old days. He seemed perfectly normal and healthy—maybe even a bit younger. The only thing... He kept muttering to himself about some 'Li... Laa...' I can't recall.

- Steff's old. And it's no wonder—he was the only one who survived that storm.

True... Tom had forgotten that incident from twelve years ago, when Steff's ship sank during a fierce storm.
He had been the sole survivor and never went to sea again.
After that, the bad rumors about him began to spread.

- Is that how people will remember him? He was...

- We both know there's a price to pay for our path. It's no wonder they say the sea whispers secrets at night—secrets better left unknown. Unlike others, we have the chance to hear them. But what will become of us afterward... Are our ears ready for it?

- Only God knows.

- Or maybe even He doesn't. Old Steff still hasn't found peace. And will he ever?

- I'd like to believe he will. At least I'll make sure of it...

Tom's last words were quieter than the rest, meant not for Richard but for himself.
Undoubtedly, something had happened during that storm—something that might have lifted the veil on the mystery of that voice and Steff's cryptic words.
Something needed to be done... Change course, head to where the old man's ship had sunk.
And then... What to do next...?
But Richard interrupted the flow of his thoughts, pretending not to hear Tom's muttering.

- For now, we can only worry about our own souls. Maybe we should let events unfold for a while. Sailors throughout history, no matter how hard they tried, could never conquer the sea. But we've learned to adapt to it well. So...

Indeed... The sea would show the way... He—Tom—was already where he needed to be. The answers would find him themselves.
He just needed to focus and listen carefully to the whisper of the waves, to hear Charlotte calling him from the shore. And then everything would surely be alright...

- If it comes to it, Rich, hold onto mine. And I'll hold onto yours.

- Then even the fiercest headwind won't drag them into the depths.

- And the deadly embrace of a storm will bring only answers to our questions.

- Haha! Just like the first time!

- A pleasant feeling.

Tom didn't even notice how, through casual chatter with Rich, his body began to breathe again.
It didn't happen all at once but gradually. With each second at sea, long-forgotten sensations returned to him.
But now, after years of hunger, Tom felt them with renewed strength.
The scent of salt, the pleasant creaking lullaby of Lottie.
His fingers traced every bump and hollow on the wheel.
And his eyes...
Tom's eyes burned.
If the sky and sea had swapped places, his blazing gaze could have served as a beacon for heavenly pilgrims,
Guiding them through starry dangers and cloudy reefs.
Tom was resurrecting.
Or perhaps even being born anew.

This darkness had always been her home.
Ever since her birth—which she couldn't remember...

How long ago was it? Why did it happen? Who needed it? Someone, perhaps, but certainly not her.
Maybe something had existed before her first memory, but she couldn't comprehend or recall it.

She simply continued, step by step, exploring the shades of darkness in which the world had placed her.

Though she could create anything from nothing in the darkness, it brought her no joy.
What she needed was substance to fill her outline. The answers—and what she truly sought—lay hidden in color.

But what was it? How would she know when she found it?
She didn't know, yet year after year, she kept searching, certain she'd recognize it when it appeared.

She wandered continents, poles, times, and worlds. Yet no fragment of matter or worldly substance fit...
Hope could have been lost, if it had ever existed for her.
But no one had given it to her.
No one except him.
A strange boy... Who played his worn guitar so enchantingly.

He came to her because she had taken something precious from him, intending to reclaim it.
Pity the world doesn't work that simply. She couldn't return it, but she didn't tell him, for when he was near... She felt truly alive.

Deception...
She had to resort to it to keep him by her side.
They made a bet...
A bet where the winner would take all.
If he won, she'd return what she'd taken.
If she won, he'd be hers forever—his body, soul, and that enchanting music born from the magical movements of his soul would dwell eternally in her dark abode.

But the story had grown too tangled... Now the chessboard held too many pieces linked to one another, and she could no longer control it.
Perhaps this was the boy's plan—the only chance to win a game against a goddess.
Or maybe he never realized the game was pointless.

- Pity... You're just a pitiful, primitive human...

- We must continue... The stakes are set, Li... The game must end.

- We've played so many times already... Do you really think this time you'll succeed?

- I'll keep going... As long as I have strength, until I win, until you return her.

- You're so tiresome... You bet on such a worthless sailor, just like yourself...

- Enough chatter... Your move. You said we could go on forever. The winner must be decided.

Sad... So sad... To be so utterly alone in the darkness... Why wouldn't he just give up, like that worthless sailor...?
Why wouldn't they give her what she so desperately craved?
What she needed...
But there was no time to dawdle. It was her move. If she wanted, the game could have ended already.
Yet that would mean he'd have to leave... And that couldn't be allowed.

In the open sea, lightning spoke with the lips of an enchanting sea passion:

I am first!
First of the first flock!
My serpents.
The poison I brought.
Shall remain with you even to this day.

The chains are broken, and the time has come...
Oh, my foolish little boy, come quickly to me.
I'll show you a world vast and unconquered.
With me, you'll truly taste harmony and feel that faint touch you desire above all.

Enough of this theater—time to shed the mask clinging to your weary face.
Set it free. See the world through its eyes.
Let's look at it together!

A new game has begun. And this natural discord symbolized its start!
All players intended to win and claim what they so desired!
Curious... Who is Tom in this chess match? A mere pawn, or something greater?
Something far greater...?