World's End

World’s End, the edge of the world. The very edge of the world. The margins of reality where things that should cease to be and the things that shouldn’t thrive. A land in which up is down and down is up. A land in which effect comes before its cause. A land where people shouldn’t step foot. A land where people don’t return. A land abandoned by heaven and earth. World’s End, the land of a person’s final farewell.

The skyship Leviathan soars through clear skies, catching a strong wind due north in its sails. The grand sails, indigo and without adornment, stretch out from the sides of the ship along masts three-quarters the height of the ship and that create a wingspan more than double its width. The indigo balloon, larger than even the ship itself, is fastened down to the hull by taut steel wire, holding the ship in the sky from fifteen meters above.

On the ship, one crewmate slides down the side of the crow’s nest, still gripping the telescope tight in his hand. He lands on the deck and takes a step towards the rest of the crew in a single motion.

“Captain, Captain! I saw it! I saw World’s End!”

A tall, tanned man emerges out from the rest of the crew. His thick, curly brown hair reaches down to his neck and his beard envelops his mouth. He wears a coat the same color as the sails of the ship on his shoulders, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he stands in front of the crew, who gather up dutifully before him.

“Well, men, it seems we’re here at last! It’s been a week since we last saw an island. There’s no more going back now. We’ve finally reached the furthest reaches of the world!”

A cheer goes through the gathered crew. They run off into the ship, retrieving kegs of alcohol and placing them haphazardly on the deck. The men start drinking, spurred on by their captain, a final celebration for their journey.

Far from them, one young man stands at the bow of the ship, gazing out into the empty sky around them with soft purple eyes. His deep violet-blue hair is short on his head. He wears an ordinary shirt and pants, though it’s nicer than the crew save the captain. His body is large and muscular, putting him among the most physically imposing on the ship. And on his back is a plain wooden casket. The casket is hanging off of a strap on his shoulder, which he holds with a hand stretched across his chest, his other arm bandaged, hanging limply at his side.

He stands at the bow for a while, time passing by without his notice. The sounds of the party behind him hardly register. His focus is fixed on the stretch of sky in front of him. And at last something distant begins to come into view. The black rocks of World’s End, smaller than any island and peppering the sky. More than anything else, they remind him of debris from islands that had been destroyed. The rocks look broken apart, like the land had been ruptured, the remnants of that cruel fate. However, unlike the debris of destroyed islands, which sink or spread through the sky, these rocks rise and form a sort of spiral, as though they were drawn into something floating above the island then suspending in time. It’s eerie to his eyes. It’s not like seeing an island in the process of being destroyed and forgotten entirely; this is a land that is already dead.

Gripping the strap of the casket tighter, he turns around and walks to the crew, only then realizing that they had been celebrating so loudly. He watches them for a while too. He can see the captain in the group, but with the casket on his back, he cannot reach him without some work.

“Ishmael! We can see the islands now!” Some of the drunker crewmates horde around him.

“That’s Captain to you, kid!” They’re just a bit of a hassle, but not one he wishes to deal with. The captain himself puts a stop to them, sobering them up with a quick blow to the head.

“Hyacinth is my friend and the one I owe my life to! I’m not his captain and I won’t have you bothering him about it!” He smiles through his beard at Hyacinth. “But it seems we’re finally here.”

“It’s been long enough.”

“Does it look like it lives up to the rumors?”

“I don’t know. The only things I know about are the beautiful things.”

“I’ll judge it for myself then!” The captain’s laughter fills the deck.

Six months ago, following the murder of several officers of the central government during their visit to a small island, the criminal, sentenced swiftly to death, escaped from the gallows with the help of an unknown attacker. The skyship Leviathan set off from that small port for World’s End under the leadership of Captain Ishmael. In only six months, they reached it. The thirty-one man crew of the Leviathan, their beloved captain, and their two passengers forged a new path to the place at the edge of the world, faster than any before.

And so those men reached their promised land, the land where no living things can bloom.