Ok, so I felt like finally posting this thing here after some months. Once again I am reminding y’all that the work is currently on an indefinite hiatus due to me being busy in real life (writing isn’t one of my priorities atm) + English ain’t my first language so typos may exist. By the way, I don’t have the seasoned writer role so please enjoy this thing in this category.
Current version’s date: 27/09/2024 (here’s the doc format if anybody wants it)
Word count: 4325
Dante Sundberg is a young captain of a merchant brig that roams the waters of the Bronze and Nimbus Seas. After having paid a visit to an old friend, he travels to Sameria with his small crew of 7 seafarers to fulfil another merchant commission from Ravenna’s Rubica. Yet, the amnesiac that Dante is, he finds himself on the same lonely voyage he has been on ever since he can remember, to find one’s lost sense of belonging and to sew back what had been lost. After all, home is where the heart is.
The Sea, Death and Hell → An amnesiac’s voyage to find his past
Chapter 1: The Sea, Death and Hell
And there it was: the world went dark. For several seconds there was nothing but the perpetual darkness of primordial chaos embracing us — a moment of reconciliation for those left behind. I had reached my hand out to touch the fabric of space and time but out of the blue, my arms felt as if an unknown force shortened them. At that time, a tiny sparkle of light appeared on the canvas of nothingness, crying tears as rays. Before I knew it, the entire ensemble exploded in light, bursting out from the spark’s place ahead and then flowing down the fabric like rapid devils of fire. It all starts from an origin and then it all starts melting and pouring down, the streams of hope branching into two, four, eight until it reaches millions and goes beyond.
Perhaps I hadn’t been worthy enough to understand it with my whole being. Perhaps I should’ve been more prudent, and perhaps it hadn’t been the right moment and time to do it before the branches of light congregated back into the starting point of all and dragged me together with them. In the suffocating conglomerate of primordial energy, I cried impulsively tears of my repentance when I was welcomed by a divine presence for whom I’d been longing forever. My limbs and organs started melting down into a morbid cocktail upon trying to embrace the light — ‘Please forgive me for everything I’ve done and not done’. In all of this agony, my personal Hell, my mind was scattered around fully in the primitive existence of space, and my coherence had been dissolved by suffering as well…but only one sentiment stood out in the entirety of the horrendous mixture of what used to be a human: I was confused, extremely confused.
‘Why must I be witness to the light which human nature cannot perceive? Why is my body so frail? Why the retina of the back of my eyes cannot see the truth in front of them? What made me so meritorious to be witness to such a primal event? Why cannot I manage to organise my thoughts so they can finally make sense? Who was I? What was I even?’
Then the following epiphany was born: the world and my being were alien to me. In the blink of an eye, everything exploded because of the intense pressure that had held us united. The primordial energy propagated through space and time towards the plane of existence where not a single word had any logic left: the sincere moment of the disclosure of the harmony — that had been hiding so far — to the ones past the day of judgement. The energy radiated a picturesque spectrum of coloured clouds which afterwards assembled in different groups to form various forms of spirals, rings, ellipses or they would create their unique shape. I had seen the beginning of all: superclusters, swarms of solar systems that had come after soon-to-be stars, discs of stone attracted to the beauty and invigoration brought by the celestial light, comets out of stardust, and the birth of life. I was hiding out of sheer shame and trepidation on Charon when it was raining stars — trying to not get hit by one — and there I was, isolated in eternal silence after the whole bustle I had gone through. I wanted to renounce the burden my soul was carrying but instead, I chose to drown in the sea of my melancholy. Why did the universe choose to leave me in this mundane Purgatory?
Without any obolus, I couldn’t cross the river so I remained on the shore of the cobweb that constructs the sea of a thousand faces.
𓆝
One day, I was near the docks, watching the sun rise behind Rubica’s forest of masts while sitting on the thick stone railing of the promenade. Last night, amidst my caffeine haze in the captain’s quarters, I had set out a route for the brig to sail toward Sameria, however, unforeseen damage to the upper part of the foremast after a night storm forced my crew and I to dock Fartyg at Rubica.
/
‘After all, what name did you give to your new brig, mate?’ somebody asked me once.
‘Fartyg.’
‘How come?’
I shut my mouth down for some moments to gather my thoughts and stirred round ‘n’ round the shot glass half-empty of rum to let the alcohol set into my system ‘I don’t know…I’m just a simple seafarer, y’know? And with a simple ship I try to find my purpose in life I guess…’, then I ended the sentence with a pathetic chuckle.
/
At that moment, I was talking to my dear reflection drenched in the Bronze Sea after I had told my crew to see around Ravenna until the ship got repaired. Maybe they were having some fish served next to freshly cut tomatoes and salad at a restaurant in the capital, who knew? I was unfortunately too busy to care. But I knew for sure that their captain was enjoying the view of the rising sun from near the docks with his own reflection and his trusty musket.
/
‘I’ve never seen a sea captain having a musket as their primary weapon choice before.’ the same somebody remarked once.
‘…Are you mocking me or—?’ I then lowered the base of the glass to the counter’s surface, utterly confused.
‘Ah no no…It’s merely an observation of mine. I actually find it quite fascinating.’ he laughed.
/
People for some reason find me eccentric for roaming around cities I dock at and striking up a conversation with every stranger I perceive as interesting inside each bar I attend. They can’t as well comprehend my habit of giving out gifts to every person whom I had a good time talking to. Is it that odd to try to get to know the world you live in? Even the Ravenna Ensigns who were patrolling the promenade started staring strangely at me, piercing my soul with their gaze, so I walked away and made my way to the exit of the city to retreat to the nearest beach. I like laying my head on the sandy surface and letting the waves sweep between the strands of my hair that I freed from the hair tie that had loosely kept them together into a low ponytail. Even my crew thinks I am a weirdo because of how much time I spend every day looking over the taffrail to see the water while sailing. There’s something very mesmerising in how the waves form after the aft passes and the colour of the water to the point that it makes me want to jump off the ship and drown peacefully in the marine universe.
/
‘You’re such a hopeless romantic, y’know?’
‘I just…don’t belong to the land.’ I stuttered a little bit.
‘If you are truly in love with the sea, why won’t you marry it? Heck, you even abandoned your job at the harbour for it!’
/
As the soft waves of the Ravennian shore caressed my scalp, in the end, I couldn’t escape the feeling I feared the most that would always tear me asunder: I felt lost. I wanted to drown in the water at that moment just to have another time of peace of mind.
𓆝 𓆟
One dawn, I woke up on a shore near what seemed to be the abode of many, a town of lights that flickered in the darkness chased by the sun during dawn. My first memory begins with me gasping for air while blowing the sand from my face, God! I took my first breath after I had pushed myself up from facing the sand, a sudden pain then striking my head as the force of gravity finally set in my head. I was shooing the pain away from my body when I noticed the waves of the sea gently washing my feet with cold water.
Out of the blue, I felt as if a spear impaled my heart, sending tremors of frigidness throughout my frail body to come to the revelation that I didn’t remember anything. I wanted to cry, let the waves wash away my sorrow, and drown my screams in the blue void, but for what reason? I wanted to cry my heart out to the sea for no reason. Why the sea? Because I was alone on the sandy beach, embraced by the feeling of misery. However, after all, my mind found at sea had decided to do nothing but stare into the horizon.
I can still recall the shape of my footsteps that would print onto the quiet beach’s frail surface after each step I took heading towards the town. Then I found myself walking down a bustling wharf where workers were unloading and loading up merchant ships, and I continued to walk at the same time I was staring at the workers with sheer curiosity. A young apprentice, having noticed the out-of-place visitor I was, approached me and he gave me a friendly smile afterwards ‘Are you looking for a job here?’. That question shattered me even further than I already was, I was sent to a disoriented and strange state. There was I — no name, no past, no family, no home, no dreams, no ideals, no food, no money, no job — almost with the appearance of a corpse, stranded on an island that I didn’t even know its name. The bustling sounds and movement of the wharf overwhelmed me to the point where the nails of my fingers started digging into my scalp. ‘Hello? Cat caught your tongue?’ the dark blue-haired man called out to me. After I had woken up from my daze, I nervously murmured ‘Ah…’ and I walked away. I cannot recall clearly what followed next apart from the memory of me making an effort to get to know my surroundings better.
/
‘You should calm down with the seawater. Working for hours dehydrated in Ravenna’s burning sun will be the death of you at some point if you continue.’ I quip towards him before knocking our liquor glasses together for the second round.
‘Who the hell do you think you are? My mum? Hahaha!’ he chaffs me before chugging down his rum.
‘And you’re the one who had a heat stroke multiple times for not wearing at least a cap outside in the summer sun’
‘I do have a cap now, uh—’ he tries to recover. ‘Damn, and you’re the one that at all times goes to the nearest bar the moment you arrive at a port…’
The pianist commissioned by the bar owner finally appears on the stage and proceeds to play on the piano for the night. The musical notes she is forming by pressing her soft fingers onto the piano tiles drag my thoughts into a realm of obscurity, a plane I can’t reach. I stop paying attention and I zone out, letting the vessel that was my body disintegrate and my soul propagate into space and time as I return to the person I woke up first as — a mere ghost of what I used to be a long time ago. I can’t hear his words anymore.
/
From the first day, the last memory I can remember is when I attempted to desperately bury myself back into the sand I aroused on. I hoped all of it to be just a cruel joke or a dream. In the hole I had dug for myself, I lied there for a while as I cried my heart out. Everything I wished for was to become dust again, to dissolve myself into the sea.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
One dusk, I was returning from the Rasna Harbour after a long day of work involving helping around with cargo and the repair of various vessels. That day I received my fourth weekly pay of galleons yet I had a bittersweet smile afterwards for the rest of the night. Of course, at the time, many people whom I had met thought I got my feet back on track as I was renting a place to call my own home and succeeded at all times to make ends meet. On Rasna’s view of the haven, I wanted to be frank: I felt like screaming out, calling out into the horizon for myself to return and to no longer feel like a stranger. But nothing came out of my throat, and nothing came back to me.
I had waited for 28 days and 27 nights for my memories to come back, and for 28 days and 27 nights a tomb for emotions I had been. Who knew that along with identity emotions would fly away as well over the water towards the horizon? I tried everything to make myself feel something like working in the torrid heat of the sun amidst the crowd of people on the harbour whilst listening to the jarring sounds of labour and hammers plunging nails. Not even conversations with strangers and a glass of strong alcohol helped, nothing satisfied me. When the sky painted itself black and only the light of the street lamps and windows stroked the skin of my face, on my way back home I sensed invisible chains that tied me back to the harbour. A mysterious force held me from walking away.
‘…’
A soft beam of moonlight shined upon my body and the bulletin board, highlighting the tense silence of the docks.
‘“Looking for a chef who is capable of cooking every day for a 12-person crew”… “Any fish exporters willing to supply for a restaurant?”… “Taking in any kind person willing to join a—”… none of these interest me…’ I whispered before letting out a heavy sigh, taking down my grey coat to let the breeze caress my exhausted skin.
A notice lit by the moonshine caught my eye: “Selling my grandfather’s sailboat to anybody who wants it”. An enthusiastic smile appeared as my eyes read it, and then I chuckled.
‘Who’s there?’ a familiar voice called out to me and out of reflex I turned around. ‘Ah, it’s you’ Raleigh — the young blue-haired shipwright apprentice of the port — faced me. He was still wearing a white shirt over his tanned skin with its sleeves folded up like he usually does.
‘What are you doing here?’ I wondered, shocked.
‘Night watch…I cannot fully trust ensigns on night patrol.’ he pauses before continuing, pointing at the notice that I grabbed from the board. ‘What are you planning? You leaving the harbour?’
‘I am taking matters into my own hands now, Raleigh,’ I folded the paper to put in one of my coat’s pockets. ‘I got tired of waiting. I am going to chase down my past’
Raleigh continued to stare at me as I moved away to sit next to the water and dip my feet into it. ‘You sure? If you really want to…go for it. Just make sure to pay me a visit at some point…’ A deep silence soon followed, Raleigh quietly moving step-by-step towards me to take a seat next to me as I was playing with the edge of my coat’s gentle linen fabric. We both stared at the stars reflected upon the calm seawater, letting the quietness of the moment set in before the young man softly proceeded to ask me ‘Hey…sorry for being so late but do you have a name? I’ve only been calling you so far “the new guy”.’
‘I don’t have a name— or I don’t remember it.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry…’ his brown eyes turned away before recovering, returning to my gaze. ‘I can give you a name!’
‘Uhhh…okay— ’
‘Durante! Yeah yeah! I think it suits you! What do you think?’
‘Durante…?’
I had to take several seconds to think about it and comprehend what was happening. The current situation quite overwhelmed me because I hadn’t borne a name since I first aroused on that beach. ‘Durante…’ I repeated, a smile slowly starting to appear on my face ‘…I think I like it.’
/
Raleigh wakes me up from my musical ecstasy ‘So, old mate, do you still go by Durante or?—’
‘Well, kind of. People nowadays have shortened it to Dante but the base idea remains. The Grand Navy knows me as ‘“Dante Sundberg”’
‘Why Sundberg?’ he laughs out of joy upon hearing me.
I chuckle ahead of replying, ‘Well…let’s say that one time I tried to remember my last name by starving myself for a day and then banging my head once hard against a wooden plank. It was the first name that came into my mind shortly after the hit’
Afterwards, we both burst into laughter because of the sheer irony of the event, but at the same time I try to mask from Raleigh the deep fragment of me that refuses to smile about it — even though people find the story humorous, I was truly desperate when it happened.
‘I still don’t understand why you also abandoned your job as a shipwright. You are one of Ravenna’s fastest and best vessel repairs even when drunk. You’re as swift as your lightning magic.’
‘The same reason as yours, Dante. Shortly after your departure and my finishing of apprenticeship, I no longer felt the same desire to be a shipwright as I used to at the beginning. Hence why I opened a bar in Rasna and then moved to Rubica for more success. I enjoy listening to sailors who bring stories from afar.’
‘I see…’ my eyes then lower back to stare at my empty glass. ‘Thanks for going out of your busy time to repair Fartyg, Raleigh.’
‘Everything for an old mate,’ Raleigh lowers the captain cap he wore as a form of respect while grinning. ‘By the way, the drinks are on the house since you finally paid me a visit.’
‘Thank you…’
‘Remember my words before you go: home is where the heart is. Good luck on your journey once again!’
I smile at him before making my leave, and then I head towards the brig and my crew to not delay the voyage towards Nimbus Sea any further. I raise my eyes at the sky to take a small glance at the stars of the night sky, and the memory of my first night on the sailboard sweeps back into my mind: I was alone yet oddly at peace amongst the welcoming cold waters of the sea — it was the first night in which I went to sleep without feeling exasperated nor lost. I think I will go to sleep earlier tonight, with no caffeine and no obsessing over the next course of the ship this time.
Moonlight sweeps slowly into the great cabin of Fartyg as the wooden door creaks open so I can enter the small abode of mine. Walking down the mahogany red carpet embellished with golden flowers at its edges, I reach my desk full of papers and map scrolls to grab my paraffin lamp and light the dark cabin — the moonlight having been blocked off by the now closed door and the thick velvet curtains dragged across the only window of the quarters. To the left of the desk, there is a wooden wall that forms a small corner to separate the bed area from the rest of the cabin to preserve the sense of serenity that is brought upon one’s resting in such an intimate place — not even a single crewmate have had their eyes peek around the corner and laid them upon this tiny sacred space of mine. I hang my grey coat up on the innermost wall and then I go on to sit on the comfortable bed tidily made on which I always ponder my thoughts every night. The Captain’s Quarters will forever remain a place stuck in time, a realm where only the slight sound of the ship’s creaking planks against the sea’s waves and beans of light invade my lonely abode. The golden light of the burning paraffin shines on my skin as take out from the singular drawer of the nightstand, that exists next to my resting place and beneath the glowing lamp, a small sheet of paper and some ink along with a quill to write steadily on my lap the words “home is where your heart is” before sticking it into the small crack between the wall’s planks among the other notes with many other people’s utterances.
Raleigh is the one who suggested I write down whatever words seem interesting to me and keep track of a journal to help with my memory loss. I am around 24 years old and I still haven’t recovered my past even after 2 and a half years, continuing to take some long minutes every day to look at the sea and wonder what my life or actual family used to be. My small cargo carry business is just a facade to cover up my desire to explore the world and find my family since I will never receive money to survive by not contributing to society. Nonetheless, I never would’ve thought that it would be also the thing to restrain me from travelling long distances as I have trouble signing contracts with enterprises outside the Bronze and Nimbus Seas for reasons unbeknownst to me. I have a passion for trying to figure out who I am.
I lean backwards until my back meets the cold wall full of notes and then I free my long light aquamarine-coloured hair from the constraints of a bobble, letting it flow down past my shoulders. To be frank, after having talked to so many people and listened to their stories, I sometimes fail to understand people. I didn’t confess it, but I don’t understand Raleigh for welcoming me back wholeheartedly even though I had barely talked to him ever since I left Rasna behind to pursue the search for my family and later start my transportation business. I was utterly surprised when this morning, after docking Fartyg at Rubica, I had looked for him throughout the whole Ravenna only to find out he gave up on walking down his Keraxe father’s steps into becoming a shipbuilder only to settle down and open a small bar in the capital. His skin now untouched by any sign of tan estranged the 32-year-old man who took me in and helped me when I was at my lowest and truly alone. Does he hide any regrets, resentment? Is he angry that I abandoned him and sailed far from Rasna with a stranger’s old sailboat? Fate had it all sorted for him: he was to easily follow his family legacy with many opportunities, and he has lightning magic he inherited from his grandfather that morphs his dexterous hand into speedy bolts of light — one of the reasons why I even came to him when I had to repair the foremast of the brig — only to what? For Raleigh to mess up the line of continuity and diverge from his father’s initial wishes…? I can’t ever make such a disgusting decision against my own kin like he did. At his bar, I tried bringing this up to Raleigh but he brushed it off telling me to stop caring about actions that have been washed away by the flow of time and stop burdening myself with others’ matters. It’s really hard to do such a thing: to let go of every person from my mind. The man who cared for me when nobody did suddenly became an enigma today…yet I still hold onto his face along with others whenever I look abaft the aft over to the blue during a voyage.
My body gently crashes into the bed’s soft duvet as my eyes start losing vigour. I quickly turn off the paraffin lamp before drifting into the realm of dreams. With a soft sigh, I let the darkness of the great cabin consume me.
Another sky, another star scratched the surface of space — the tree of the beginning was blooming stars, and one by one they ripped even harder and the sky bled. At that point, I was crying on the cold shore before I felt the glowing ichor gently pouring from up down my locks for a sharp indescribable feeling to stab my chest — was it fate? The average person would think nothing of this through the lens of their bare eyes but I instead saw something great in that light. At that moment my mind suddenly knew I had to chase it yet a chain of doubt and hesitation froze my body in place. My eyes follow the golden liquid making its way to the sea like a snake and then, finally having touched the water, the ichor expanded rapidly, taking the form of the sea’s cobweb, and travelled to the horizon line.
I drank the perpetual ichor of the world ripping through the sky’s fabric whilst I drowned in the eternal sea of forlornness of one’s lost purpose. Connected to the thin spider web of the cosmic vault, I then found myself entombed in the myriad chains of the ocean to hear each one’s desires. Please don’t ever sever me from the network as I cannot survive without you… You’re the only source of happiness I can think of and have dissipated my life for.
With a soft gust of wind, my mind flew down on my back until I landed back on the first dream I ever had. There was it: a gentle boat had been sailing across the water and in that dream, over the rail, I reached my hand out towards the water, ‘How did I get here?’
I stared towards the sea of a thousand faces.
‘…’
The sea of a thousand faces avoided my gaze. Nobody took my hand.
‘What shall I do now that I can no longer feel truly at home?’
And then nothing was heard anymore.