The Call of the Wretched Sea

by Starlix

Further South

Fog. Endless fog, stretching on over and across the horizon in every direction imaginable. Above and below the sea, the mist was everywhere, obscuring her vision to mere feet in front of the alicorn.

Despite the blindness, she moved onward, sails carrying her further south, further into oblivion and deeper into torment and grief. The mare stared at the scratchy writing in front of her, tracing the curve of each frantically scrabbled and etched letter with a sort of disconnected, half present gaze.

Was she Twilight? Or was Twilight her?

She had forgotten what the case may be, finally realized that the grimness of identity was the last thing to go upon this foggy ocean bare, naked and alone. Twilight was not afraid, not that the oblivion had finally swallowed all in it’s massive embrace, if the end had come, she would welcome it with open arms.

A question had popped into her mind out of nowhere once before, the realization that one had before their end came, the sort of understanding that only the cold claws of death could inspire in a being.

After every hell came yet another chasm, yet another gulf to stumble into. Where did it end?

Each letter, jagged and rough as they were, carried a depth of weight and power that found an unusual way to shake the mare’s iron soul to it’s very foundations. The very little solace she could find was in her old way, in the form of books and letters from the destroyed past of her home.

She cast her weary eyes away from the letters, finding solace in the horizon. It was always there, watching, waiting. Though she could not hear it, smell it, or see it, she knew it lingered there, just on the edge of her senses, pursuing her at every turn towards that great blue.

The edges of her vessel had worn thin, time had shattered the masts into splinters once before, only to be brought back frantically and desperately.

Sometimes she could feel the being’s great call shake her boat. Sometimes she could feel herself brought back from the depths by that majestic note. It was torture.

Driving through a fog, she knew no respite, no safe haven from the embrace of the sea. Everything was so grey. Why did it continue? Why did she never sleep?

Aeons had elapsed in the blink of an eye, yet she did not age and never did she sleep. How much time had passed and how much more would pass before the cycle closed and everything ended. She had the barest of memories, a memory of forests and towns, of castles and cities, monoliths of stone and steel, rendered still like the weakest of branches.

She wanted to sleep, yet why was she so afraid to do so?

Perhaps it was because she knew she was already sleeping, that such a trial would finally wake her up to the real world and destroy her fragile sense of reality like light snow in a windstorm.

Over the course of time, the stars had begun to yield to her the answers, the memories locked far away in her subconscious, the waking dream that she lived revealing some of the secrets to this solitude.

Inside the memories of her past were images, fragments of words and sights like scraps of pages torn from a book; the pieces there, yet so hard to puzzle together and make sense of.

It hurt her head to think about, to remember where the life had ended and the dream had begun, yet there wasn’t much else to do aboard this endless journey. Her body felt like it had aged hundreds of years, her stomach and throat parched and empty, yet she did not die.

Scraps of meat, pieces of flesh torn from the only one that could give such substance, the source of her increased life-span, yet the source of her torment. Purgatory had let her feast upon her own flesh and drink the liquid of her veins, yet she did not die.

Why had this become so? Why had she been disallowed to finally pass? What was her one crime? These questions came often, especially for one such as her, an individual with nothing but time to waste and thoughts to contemplate.

It was odd, for now, the thought of returning home was a foreign one, the idea of dying one equally terrifying. This conflicted her, as she wanted so bad for the pain to end, but Twilight knew now that the afterlife could not exist, and such the void awaited her.

If this was purgatory and she was meant for some destination, she had the feeling it would never come. Maybe it wasn’t meant to?

An answer did not come easily, slipping through her mind without a stopping point. Her heart pounded inside her chest, the tired organ not ceasing in it’s race. She grasped at her breast with a gasp, digging beneath the fur and feeling the heavy beat beneath the skin.

Sitting back on her haunches, she held her breath, counting back from ten. An old method, one that she remembered more from muscle memory than conscious thought.

The mare sat up, walking unsteadily to the edge of the deck, a biting chill penetrating her fur and sinking deep into her bones. Ice drifted by in the motionless waters, floating by peacefully. Twilight was momentarily struck, caught completely off guard by the foreign sight.

Ice, a substance that never formed, for as long as she could remember, that had never been something of a sight. The temperature hardly changed, no matter where she drifted. The south and the north, east and the west, these were concepts that held no bearing in a world of endless ocean, of one where the sun never rose and never set.

But for ice to form, that meant she had found something, something different.

This was new.

More chunks of ice floated by, appearing in the misty haze like ghosts, floating by the vessel slowly and with a subtle grace she had not seen in ages. The view of something other than her own ship cruising through the water was a completely foreign sight.

Grey pieces of ice, hazy and misty, the kind of ice that had seemingly never been unfrozen. Grey mist and grey ice, a new selection of monotony, one she had not happened by before. A slab bounced against the hull, a resounding thud echoing across the empty soundscape. It was far too quiet.

This was real.

Uncertainty seeped into her body, shaking her legs and widening her eyes. Two very different emotions conflicted inside her core, one of terror and glee. Grey and grey and grey.

Foggy and cloudy was the world and now, now this. What was this?

How much further had she drifted into insanity? Further south, further south. Her mind spiraled, terror and uncertain obscurity clouding her once rational brain. She began to truly question her sanity, the one thing she had clung to like a stubborn cough, refusing to let this hell claim her.

Had she now truly gone mad? Yet another question to add to the pile, a seemingly limitless one by this point.

Appearing in the fog, the land stretched for miles, the barren fields of ice endless and haunting. Pernicious solitude had destroyed her thought of hope and now up ahead this foreboding ice snapped her mind like a retracting rubberband.

Her boat clipped the side of a particularly large piece of ice lightly, sending the ship on the slightest of teeters. This quickly shook the shellshocked mare back to her senses. The earth had gone horribly quiet, the sloshing of waves and the whistle of wind mysteriously absent.

Twilight looked over the great expanse of pale, glowing ice and snow with barely constrained emotion, chest rapidly rising up and down. Her hollow eyes had almost forgotten what such a sight looked like, the solidity of ground, the wholeness, and absolution of a solid piece of stone or rock to step upon.

Her vessel sailed through the snowy waters, forward towards either damnation or salvation, the choice of which she could not be certain. As the Antarctic waters drifted ever near, she could make out the subtle details of the barren landscape as it unraveled farther into the distance, the blank sheets of ice a near white sheet across the entire world.

Shakily, the mare took a glance over her shoulder, eyeing the waters to her rear disappearing into the fog, vanishing from sight. With a hard gulp and a shuddering breath, Twilight found her gaze surprisingly hard to break.

As much as she hated that ocean, that horribly wretched expanse of water, she found herself feeling oddly afraid to leave it. It seemed that she needed the ocean just as much as she craved to distance herself from it.

Peeling her eyes away from the rapidly disappearing expanse of water, the alicorn turned her haggard eyes to the gently approaching sheet of white as it consumed her vision, eyeing the numerous diverse hills and crags that just barely shone in the low light.

This was the south, this was where the giant slept, the monster of ice and snow. Had she found her land or had the land found her? Further south, further south she had drifted.

Around her, the ice encompassed all, the large bay holding her vessel in it’s gargantuan size, making her modest vessel look like a canoe by comparison. All around was the ice, closing off the ocean behind her as it gradually disappeared from sight.

The ship slowed as it approached the banks of the shallow bay shores. The icy banks breached water just a few hundred feet up ahead. She suddenly understood the drastic change she had experienced, and with a disgruntled noise from deep within her throat, the mare charged down the deck, horn glowing as she pulled a release valve at the bow of the ship.

Although the valve was degraded and covered in mold from disuse, the gears cranked loudly, turning and loosening the anchor. With a heave of magical force, the anchor plummeted over the front of the vessel. Thankfully the wind was already pushing against her, giving the anchor plenty of time to gather resistance as it dragged across the seabed a few moments later.

Besides the mighty splash as the anchor slammed into the frigid waters, she could only hear the clanking of the chains as the anchor descended. It only took mere moments before the chains slowed, signifying the base of the seabed being reached.

Breathing raggedly as the ship began to lose speed, just in time before the shallows beached her, the alicorn sat back, wiping a cold sweat from her forehead. With the adrenaline pumping furiously through her veins, Twilight had yet to notice the bite of the frigid winds.

The slightest tugging sensation upon the hull was the only indication the mare had or needed for that matter, to know that her line was secure. Content with the knowledge that she wouldn’t be dragged to shore by currents or wind, Twilight quickly looked over the bow.

Her calm demeanor faltered slightly in the wake of the massive looming unknown. She choked on a breath momentarily.

Creaking ominously in the silent, still air, the boat stopped. Twilight became aware of this. She became painfully aware of this.

The land before her called hauntingly out to her, the dark ambiance of the bright field of ice wildly contrasting each other and making her mind race with images of the horrors that lay waiting in the wastelands.

Placing her shaking hooves over the guard rails, she could only stare over the fog and into the white expanse, watching the shallow waves lap at the shore, rippling puddles of water freezing and melting along the banks.

Everything was silent, all but the high pitched whistle of the wind among the sails and across the bulk yards, moving between wood and steel and flesh with grace only the like of mother nature. Twilight was made absentmindedly aware of the turmoil below, the waves pattering incessantly against the sides of the hull, splattering against with audible thuds.

Ice filled winds blew over her body, sending a chill down her spine. A coat, she needed a coat.

Nodding stupidly at the voice in her head, Twilight backed away shakily from the deck, nearly tripping over herself as she sought shelter beneath the lower layers of the ship’s hull. It was hardly warm, yet the slight insulation from the biting atmosphere outside was a far cry of comfort.

Shaking and quivering in anticipation and immense trepidation, Twilight raced over to a faded and dusty cabinet resting in the middle of the cargo hold. It creaked open with the sound of nearly snapping oak, causing the mare to wince slightly.

She sifted through the tattered clothing and pushed around a number of articles of clothing she knew were not hers. Faded memories of white and purple pushed through the ever-present haze, making the alicorn groan and shake her head harshly.

Pulling a thick gown from within the confines of the cabinet, eyes clenched shut, the mare slammed the cabinet closed, forcing the lock shut with enough forces to make the metal squeal. Never again.

With a grimace and a quick tightening of the straps around her ragged and somewhat emaciated form, the alicorn mare trudged back up the deck, taking a haggard breath of the vile air above. It smelled far to bland, missing the salty drench of the sea that she had become so accustomed to.

The freshness of the air was rancid, a plague upon her senses that threatened to make her sick. Clouds of a snowy whiteness hung low in the air above, far too low, far too opaque.

Snow danced in the air around her, falling slowly and without care. It was a sight Twilight never thought she would see again. Tears formed in her eyes, heart quivering with emotion as a tidal wave of memories rushed to the surface. Memories of smoky fires and cozy homes, of laughter and smiles, and of warm drinks and warmer blankets.

Tears fell from her cheeks, staining the deck. Oh, how she would give anything to get it back! All she wanted was her friends back, all she wanted was her life back. Twilight fell to the deck, haggard, ruined body collapsing to the floor like a cut doll, clasping her head in her hooves, openly sobbing, chest heaving and matted tail hugging her legs.

She missed home. She missed her warm bed. She missed her son, her innocent baby dragon.

But he was dead. Just like the rest of them, just like everything else in this world, dead and gone, buried beneath thousands of feet of water and tears.

Twilight went limp, her eyes pouring as strength left her and she was unable to do anything besides lay there and cry. She truly had pondered just throwing herself over the deck, to succumb to the ocean’s torment, to drown her life away and to finally be free. She had been terrified it wouldn’t work.

She had been terrified that it would.

From the mist, a voice whispered into her ear, and a phantom claw gripped her shoulder softly. Her head shot up, yet as expected, nothing. Nothing but this ghostly ship, surrounded by fog and snow. She wanted to cry, to sob and scream and bellow in rage and despair. She wanted to die, she wanted to see her family again, to feel the warmth and laughter of her friends. She wanted this to end.

She knew it never would.

But that voice, it’s warm, tender presence had sent shivers down her spine, the voice of a lost child, forgotten by everything but her. Oh, how she loathed remembering what had been, it tore her heart and soul apart, yet this snow awakened the worst in her.

Lifting her head from the floor, rising unsteadily on shaking limbs, the mare gave a quick glance back into the mist. She had heard him. She had felt him. He was gone, but the feeling of a child’s love was unyielding.

It was all she needed.

Though her stomach was turning in knots and her breath heaved in and out of her chest, the mare felt that delaying this would only prolong her torment, only extend the breadth of her suffering. She had always asked the world, screamed to the skies her need for answers, bellowed to the heavens her submission to salvation, yet it had never come.

It seemed the world was finally ready to give her the answer she so desperately sought. Down in the frigid heart of the world, hidden and fog and nestled in snow and famine, she had traveled, ventured deeper than she had ever dreamt imaginable.

Whatever this was, she was ready. Whatever was in store, she would face it. Her crippled mind and battered body were still pumping, and for now, that was all the reassurance she needed. It was time, time to face what would come.

Tripped and stumbled, pushed further, further from herself, further into oblivion, further down. Further south.
-------------------------

Author's Note:

The depths of the mind and soul are just as deep as the ocean, it is an interesting concept to explore, to see which will be reached first.

Thanks for all the support on this thing, it's cathartic to write and interesting for me to construct.

Comments

[the7Saviors]

Whether frozen land or hellish sea, an end to the pain there will never be...

[Scholarly-Cimmerian]

What can I say, that might adequately sum up how masterfully chilling all of this was?

Top-notch work!

[ChasingResonance]

I really do love this writing. Kinda sad to see how little it has been noticed, as you certainly are due lots of credit for such a well-written work. Can't wait for more. Onwards!

[Starlix]

8984599 Thanks a bunch m8o