This short story is an entry into the Dangers on the High Seas Lore Contest.

The Myth of the Soul

By Darkathenes

Where I come from, a Hrothi is hardly old at the age of thirty. I still feel the energetic days of my early years burning in my memory. Despite a myriad of hardships, my cheerfulness has rarely dwindled. The hardships began with my only parent, Idold, a scientist of rare zeal.

My father was a fearless man from the Northern mountain tribes in pursuit of science. In specifics he was a medical examiner. His work led him to a great many secrets that medicine was too timid to touch. I never understood any of it since I was young at the time, yet I could feel the pain when the mob came to take him away. I knew they were afraid of what he was discovering.

I only had time to pack my clothes and my father’s journals on medicine before my uncle Fenril hauled me from the house. My uncle took me to a neighbouring city where he lived as a merchant. I made a new life there as a merchant and became close to a kid named Harin. We were the happiest friends I’ve ever seen.

The only keepsakes of my father were his deranged ramblings on logic in leather journals. More often than not I didn’t understand them and resented him for putting his work before our family. It took me years to comprehend most of it. All I had left was the knowledge that his ambition tore my life apart. In anger, I convinced myself I wanted nothing to do with his memory.

It wasn’t until later, when a Daemon burned down all the cities in my province, that I actually lost everything. Harin and my uncle died to the fire breathing creature. My house was gone. My father’s journals became ash and I almost didn’t make it out myself. It made me realize that in life you have to lose some to gain some.

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“In the end I turned to the reason and logic my father exemplified in his work to stay sane. I definitely didn’t understand him before all that, but now I get that life is harsh. So here I am: a pirate ship’s surgeon and a scholar,” I summed up to the crowd around me.

A couple people whistled and someone snorted in amusement.

There were seven of us sitting amidst barrels and crates lashed to the deck of a ship. I sat on a small crateful of Sani-Plums with my stubby legs that hardly touched the deck. I wore a leather coat and vest that were roughly the same color of brown. My undershirt was a faded green covered in dirt. Salt-encrusted grey pants hung over dark brown boots. A small feather quill adorned my right sleeve.

A coil of rope and a simple iron dagger dangled at my hips. An insignia on my coat, detailing a raven on a wave, denounced me as a pirate of the northern bluffs.

Cold fog sheltered a double masted ship anchored near the shore of an island in the frigid realm of nature. A net draped over the side of the boat with two men hauling in dinner.

No light could burn away the fog and no sail could scoop it away. Safe in its grasp, a motley crew relaxed from a hard week of sailing. The ocean below swept away all light in the false grey night. Any sound came crashing around like the the shore breaking on the rocks.

Beside me, six other pirates in atrocious clothing listened to my stories. As far as I knew, there was only one pirate scholar in all the world. This gave me ample room to embellish my adventures. My childhood wasn’t a tale I needed to exaggerate on.

We had all met two months ago at the harbor city of Yalhe and I had never shared personal details. I had decided today would be the day I changed that.

“That is a wild story, it ain’t everyday that someone survives a Daemon raid,” a pirate admitted.

“I didn’t lie. The glow from the fire was visible from miles away when the city of Shor Lon burned. Ask anyone in the Kingdom of Paridale about it.”

I looked up for a brief moment, hoping that the fog would have cleared up a bit. It hadn’t. The two masts held their sails away from the lazy summer winds. A Jio-bird landed nearby, hoping for food.

“Hey little birdie,” I cooed.

It squawked at me in disappointment before fluttering off to harass someone else. The flap of its wings soon became lost to the lapping of water at the hull.

“So, your father, he did experiments, yes?” A misshapen Dras sailor ventured.

I responded with a weird look. “Yeah,” I frowned. “He used dead bodies to understand how to heal people. He experimented on their minds to try and cure the mentally afflicted.”

I would go no further than telling a half-truth when I explained my father’s work. The village I grew up in regarded his studies as necromancy. Necromancy became outlawed years ago after a plague almost destroyed a kingdom. Magic had caused a fair share of problems over the century and I stayed away from it whenever possible.

The wind shifted a few degrees, carrying the smell of the shore to our boat. I got up and eyed the horizon about a hazy fifty feet in front of me. An eel surfaced next to the boat and sent ripples slithering across the top of the ocean. The Jio-bird from earlier screeched and spiraled into the air.

I returned to my friends. The Nerans were chatting about rockfish steaks. I listened to the various fishing methods of the tribes around me.

“If I were Jolen I’d drop my rope into the surf and wait for a bite!” Klovor laughed.

I laughed back. A Neran pirate named Swied tapped my shoulder.

“I just gotta ask. Why rope? You could have a better weapon if you had enough strength to lift it,” Swied prodded.

“I’m not much of a warrior to begin with,” I explained. “An old friend taught me the value of rope and how to use it in a fight. What he showed me saved my rear a few times.”

“Could you teach us?” Swied asked. The Neran was grinning at me.

“Sure, but not right now. I’m certain we will have time later,” I assured him. My hand patted my rope coil. “One day you will be a master of the rope too.”

A few people, including myself, laughed at the ridiculousness of the prophecy. A whole new conversation about non-conventional weapons began to spread.

I patted Swied on the shoulder to let him know I’d be taking a walk. He nodded back.

There was very little to do on the ship at the time. We hadn’t met with resistance during an attack for weeks and our ship was in good repair. I could hardly look over the gunwale, but I was pretty sure there was nothing to see.

My ears picked up the sound of white crests cascading over one another. Eerie creaks droned across the morning fog. From the gloom, a massive frigate took shape. The fog had hid the ship until she was pulling up alongside our starboard hull.

I turned around and saw that no one was paying attention.

“Captain! Frigate bearing down on our starboard side!” I yelled.

A man with no shirt on jumped into the doorframe of the cabin on the opposite side of the boat. A piece of hard bread fell from his mouth as he cried:

“To your stations!”

The frigate’s prow loomed above our ship like the lance of Oceanus. Her rigging snapped as the sails drew taught to their masts. Shields on the front of the ship bore the colors of the Bruddvir Kingdom of Valedia.

Splinters rained everywhere as our hulls collided. The deck trembled in agony. I saw helmeted warriors peering down at us.

“Take cover, grapples incoming!” The captain ordered.

The sound of rope swinging through the air alerted me to a grapple headed my way. More hooks sailed down and latched onto our ships with fearsome prongs. A few missed, but many hit their mark. Some snagged the rigging, others dug into the gunwale, and a couple wrapped around the masts. Fierce cries boomed from above. Thuds thundered down as Valedian Marines pounded their weapons on their ship. Holding onto the ropes, the marines glided onto the deck of our ship. They wore blue coats covered in patchwork and chainmail shirts stained with rust. War axes in their hands were made of green iron and their helms crafted from an impure metal. Extra weapons like throwing knives and swords swung at their belts. Most carried round shields however a few even had kite shields. In all, there were about fifteen of them.

My pirate band, eleven strong and ill equipped for this fight, drew weapons.

“Surrender!” A Bruddvir with a cloak made of bear hide demanded. “If you surrender you shall live out your lives as prisoners!”

“Never!” “Go eat a blowfish!” We yelled back. The sailors of plunder roared for freedom from the laws of the seven kingdoms. Then we charged. The two groups collided in a massive melee that I had no hope of competing in. Boots scuffed on the deck of the ship and the snap of crossbow strings could be heard over the din. Swords and axes clashed in sparks. Swied picked up a barrel and flattened a marine with the round end. The Dras sailor who’s name I could never remember fell to a crossbow bolt in his arm. I dragged him back behind the main mast and broke the bolt shaft off. I bandaged the wound with some spare rags. They quickly became soaked. I stayed behind the fighting as much as possible. I learned over the years that it wasn’t wise to fight Bruddvir when your talents had nothing to do with combat. I knew I should help, but as a doctor my job was to save lives not take them.

My neck hair tingled as I noticed one warrior had singled me out. His beady eyes were looking straight into mine. A fresh wound opened up his face and spilled blood onto his armor. From a distance, I could feel his hatred burning beyond control.

He charged at me with a war cry. As he swung at me with his axe, I rolled to the side. I uncoiled my rope into my hand. With a flick of my wrist I whipped the axe away from him. The axe clattered a safe distance away from my enemy. He drew a shortsword and ran at me with hundreds of pounds of muscle.

I had nowhere to go, a lump in my throat, and the urge to run. Unfortunately, he was a very fast Bruddvir. His body slammed into me and I felt pain shoot through my chest. A crack I assumed was my bones breaking reverberated through my jaw.

My body flew across the deck like a running deer hit with a spear. A warm taste in my mouth I knew to be blood clouded my thoughts. I tried to sit up and collapsed in agony. My ribs and spine throbbed. Looking down, a jagged scar was rent into my clothing. Blood streamed through it; blood I was beginning to cough up. The blade had pierced my lung.

My heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest at any moment. A cold feeling crept into my limbs. Every breath became difficult as my lungs filled with blood. I couldn’t help but breathe more, which did very little to help the situation.

A weary head connected with the deck as my body shut down. I tried reassuring myself, but I knew what was going on inside my body.

‘Medicine might not be a comfort,’ my thoughts said sleepily. ‘Rest son of Idold, rest.’

I felt the ship rocking in the waves. I heard the distant noises of combat. At last I lost myself in the numbness spreading through my veins.

Above me, gulls flew in philly arcs around the commotion. The fogbank was beginning to clear, its task complete. I could see the crystal blue sky turning the color of flower fields between the holes in the cloud cover.

“Father,” I tried to say, but managed only a gurgle.

My head lolled to the side. The last glimpses of my friends sullied by the hungry rats scurrying to the broken crates of food. Arms of circular lights laced the skies above me.

A salty tear leapt from my cheek to the deck of my floating home.

‘Is this what you wanted?’ A voice demanded in a familiar tone I had tried to forget.

“Father…?” I inquired, attempting to move. “How can I hear you? I don’t see you?.”

‘I’m here, son.’

My father’s voice echoed all around me, like the sound of pickaxes striking marble in the halls of the Hrothi.

“Father I’m frightened,” I coughed. The room around me felt like a cold blanket. My mind wandered towards my fear of death. I didn’t believe my father was actually here.

‘Your mind is the key; your mind is what you need,’ my father instructed me.

Light bent around me, showering me in warm rays. The battle faded from the deck of the ship. Fog rolled in, spilling over the rails. The debris of the fight disappeared into wisps of smoke.

All around me seaweed wrapped onto the railings like a vine in bloom. A wave washed on deck, then another. When the boat became submerged in an inch of water the ocean sunk into a satisfied slumber.

A face wreathed in spectral light rose from the water. Hands of pure starlight held onto the water as if it were solid. They supported a torso of swirling energies. Light and darkness met as equal forces within the figure of a stunning woman. Her features were near indescribable. A flowing robe of light and dark sheltered her figure. Runes of power donned the edges of the mystical fabric.

I stood up. Surprised by the fact I even could, I looked down and saw my body was the color of the northern lights. What I would have considered normal color had all disappeared. My body was nothing more than a lightly glowing vessel. Looking back at the woman I felt a greater surge of confusion.

“How?” I gaped. “What happened? Who…?”

A melodic voice like rainfall dripping over trees called my name.

‘Jolen.’

She turned into sand before my eyes. Grains of her body sank into the void. The ocean grew still moments later.

I sobbed. “Don’t leave me here. I don’t understand any of this!”

My pale green eyes closed in defeat and I sank to my knees. My shoulders slumped and I felt butterflies in my stomach. When I opened them again my heart skipped a beat.

A thousand forms in blue, shining with light, were hovering in the world of mann. Around me I could see what looked like bird people guiding them like sheep out to sea.

My teeth clenched and I flashbacked to my father’s laboratory.

‘Jolen,’ my father’s voice told me. ‘There are no such things as souls. When we die we lose all control and our brain dies after seven minutes. I don’t see a way we’d survive.’

“That’s what this all means. I’m hallucinating,” I shivered in realization.

A whoosh behind me made me turn. Two beautiful grey wings carried a man in simple, dark robes. He held his olive shaped head to the side as if he were curious. His skin was the color of pearls. Older eyes stared back at me than the body of the man who stood in front of me.

“Do you need a guide to the astral dimension? The ocean is no place for a soul to rest,” he advised.

I gave him a strange look. “The astral dimension doesn’t exist. These are my last moments. Leave me alone please.”

“As you wish,” the guide bowed. His spiral movements stirred up the air as he flapped his wings. With great strokes, the man vanished into the sky.

Over my head I could see the silhouettes of the various tribes of Mann, some darker colored and some brighter, hovering in the sky. They flew in somewhat organized lines all around me. Hovering close by the processions were more winged men and women like the one that had approached me earlier. I focused on a couple of them. One was a man with two arrows in his back and the other was a nobleman with a dagger in his back.

“Those can’t be souls,” I speculated. “But if they were, does that mean the dark looking souls led darker lives?”

I couldn’t tell, but I guessed there was a significance to what my mind was showing me. It was easy to notice that the images conveyed a message about dark and light. Every figure thus far had been made up of two types of color. I wondered what my mind was trying to tell me.

‘If souls exist, what would my soul look like?’ I wondered.

My life was not so black and white. I have committed crimes, but I have also sacrificed a great deal to help others. It felt sort of like the old scale my father had. If you put the right amount of counter balance on each side of the scale, it would even out.

A stingray distracted me for a moment. The poor thing had flopped onto the deck of the ship. I bent down to pick it up, but found I couldn’t. The barbed tail whipped back and forth. Every time the barb connected with my skin it passed through me. It tried to flap at me in distress. A wave finally lapped it back into the ocean.

I felt worried that I hadn’t done enough good in my time. Knowing that I was moments from a mortal end caused my thoughts to race. Every memory I ever had surfaced in the span of a few seconds. I knew that I had participated in some wretched acts. What frightened me more was the way I led my life.

“I’m not ready for this,” I choked. “There is never enough time. I do not want to surrender control! I still don’t…”

With a measure of frustration I clenched at the cracks in the wooden deck.

I saw the deck of the ship begin drifting apart, yet I stayed where I was. Alone and afraid, lied to, and regretful, I stayed in the one place I knew: my ship. My mind closed to the gentle prodding of the world around me.

Finally the world got fed up and dunked me into the ocean. Fear of truth turned to fear of drowning in a heartbeat. I gasped and tried to swim for the surface. A piece of kelp wrapped around my wrist and swung me into a swift current.

Without any choice, I breathed out the foul air in my lungs. Some measure of relief came from the discovery that I could still breathe. I shot through an unfamiliar ocean, past many a school of fish and between quite a few sea stacks. The familiarity ended with the rocks and the water.

Every reef I passed was a rainbow of life. Octopi were glowing with dark auras while aurie fish bore halos of light. Coral was a change in color against a shimmering landscape.

‘Beautiful,’ I thought.

A whale with horns that I knew didn’t exist thundered past me. I sped away from the edge of the continent faster than I had ever traveled. Drawn deep into the ocean, I saw a massive vortex of currents rumbling before me. In the murk beyond light I could see two forms larger than the entire land mass behind me. A white underbelly and a black underbelly circled each other. Fins that could have sunk islands dipped out of the darkness. Together their movements formed a whirlpool. The currents were strong even from here.

“This is colossal,” I cried in amazement, my mouth open. I realized at this point I didn’t need to breathe anymore.

Dragged into the whirlpool, a feeling of panic began to rise in my chest. A torrent of sounds rushed into my ears and a wall of bubbles collided with me on all sides. My head surfaced in the whirlpool and I caught a glimpse of the chaotic mess of rogue waves that whipped around me. I was pulled under and dragged towards its eye. Between getting dunked and struggling against the force of the waves. I shut my eyes and waited it out, submitting my body to the fierce tug of the waves, until I reached the center.

A sharp jolt brought me back to reality as I collided with the center of the vortex. My body slid across a surface made of the night sky and obsidian. The abyss I collapsed on was cold and damp. Luckily I appeared to be safe from the whirlpool as long as I stayed in the center.

A sensation tugged at the edges of my eyes and I flinched as I looked around me.

In the midst of the whirlpool, thousands of figures weaved in and out of the darkness I stood on. Older looking men and women from the tribes of Mann would float through the material like it didn’t exist. Below my feet, innocent spheres of light carrying babies would wisp out into the world. I couldn’t help but think they looked as though they were newborns being sent out to the world for the first time.

My brow furrowed in thought. Many religions believed that souls entered the astral dimension when they died. If that was true I had run out of time. My heart twinged.

I hung my head in an attempt to avert my eyes from my surroundings. There was a simple realization in my shame that I couldn’t overlook: I’d missed an important part of life. My friend Harin believed in souls and his beliefs were nothing short of delusions in my eyes. Here and now he had proved me wrong. With a sad smirk I realized his atypical way of thinking had finally rubbed off on me.

A knot twisted inside my chest. I’d committed piracy and even banditry. Despite the good things I’d done, I still felt guilty.

‘That’s wrong, Jolen. There’s no such thing as light or dark. If I lit a candle doesn’t mean that night went away,’ I recalled Harin saying to me.

“I didn’t come into this world to be a liar and a thief,” I said aloud. “I don’t want to go out of this world lying to myself.”

Even now, my mind lied to comfort me, telling me I'd survive after death. After all, who wants to die? I could not comprehend how my mind managed to show me such a complex vision. The thriving world around me did not validate how I felt about my situation in the slightest.

I knew my body was long gone and that my mind was all that remained. Despite that, a pain began to spread from the base of my skull. My eyes watered and my teeth felt numb. Beneath me, cracks appeared in the jet black floor. A silver and white light beamed forth from each crack. I fell backwards, stunned. From the vast reaches of the whirlpool a ship raced towards my helpless form. It must have been caught in the current.

“I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered faintly before the prow of the ship rammed into me full force.

I felt myself explode into dust and shoot through a teal water. My body reformed as quickly as it dispersed. Within seconds I flew free of the water and opened my eyes. Looking down I saw my body was still glowing with blue energy like other creatures I’d seen in my vision

I saw two continents spinning in harmony below me. They grew small as I arced into the great beyond. Vapor clung to me as I stirred up a layer of clouds. I closed my eyes, uneasy with vertigo.

I blacked out.

Waking up, I had no perception of where I was. My vision was blurry, yet I could make out a spinning contraption surrounded by a library. The contraption was a blue fire burning in the center of planets made of copper and silver arms. It sat on a pillar of stone.

I sat up and my eyes were drawn to the ceiling. Masterful art depicted the wild expanse of space on a cleverly domed ceiling. It might have been my imagination, but the ceiling looked like it was moving.

The tap of footsteps on stone made me alert again.

A beautiful woman stode gracefully from a doorway to my left. It was the lady who appeared near my ship. Her hair was the color of honey, both warm and cold in different areas. The dress she wore reminded me of a jester’s costume. The fabric was black on one side and dark on the other. She wore no jewelry and bore no distinct markings. Her skin was pure and soothing to the eyes like a sunset after a long day’s walk. She carried a curved sword that burned like a comet. With care, she approached the device in the middle of the room and laid the blade upon it.

“What does being alone feel like?” She asked in a radiant voice.

I paused, knowing what to say, but too vulnerable to speak. I mustered my courage.

“Alone is like wandering in a snowstorm so cold that it froze time and sound forever.”

“Do you think your path in life brought you great loneliness?” She challenged. I could see curiosity burning in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. My foot tapped at the floor stones.

She laughed softly. “There isn’t a wrong way to look at it. Your life would have ended the same way: with feelings of loneliness and uncertainty. It is only natural you’d want a perfect life, but nothing is perfect. You are live in a long cycle that spins in circles.”

“Men of science like yourself seek to isolate the laws of the world in an attempt to break this cycle. In this you forget that time goes on even if you can’t complete every dream. The path you take will be a part of time and every action - no matter how small - ripples through the universe. You fear you didn’t make a positive impact, yet you’ve saved lives. Even a dark choice can bring about great change. Your balance between good and evil is not a problem you will solve in a day.”

“Then when will I solve it?” I interrupted with my hand held up. “I don’t mean to be rude but I’m dead so I have nothing to lose.”

She turned around. With her left hand she spun the device and let it turn.

“I wouldn’t say you have nothing to lose yet. Perhaps you could solve your dilemma in the next life,” she mused. “Of course you'd have no memories of your past, yet that could be for the best. Or…”

The ceiling spun and turned the device with it. I could feel a low hum as the stars rotating made me dizzy. Finally the tilting stopped as the blue fire in the model constellation grew to the size of a campfire.

She trailed off and looked at the fire. I could see her pride in her eyes as she gazed into the flames. With her noble hand she picked up the sword by the hilt. She extended it towards me. My eyes burned as the blade glowed and hummed with power.

“Or you can discover a true purpose rarely seen by children of Mann. Claim this blade and guard souls from the depths of Oceanus. Take it, and grow who you are.”

I looked at her with calculating eyes. I knew if I took the sword everything I believed would change, but the offer was too tempting.

When I reached out, she moved closer and flipped the sword so I could grip it. My hand connected with hers at the hilt. I felt her lukewarm skin as she left a priceless relic in my care.

A great pain spiked in my back muscles. Tears sprang from my eyes as wings extended from my back. I shivered and winced as I adapted to the new bones.

Before I could admire my plumage, the lady walked away from me

“One last question,” I pleaded. “Why would you pick me?”

She spoke lightly. “A life of humility spent in search of happiness is worth the lives of a thousand brave warriors. Who do you think they fight for?”

The floor fell away and I plummeted through rainbow nebulas. A million tiny stars twinkled past me and comets careened past like worlds ablaze in cold light. The vastness of space engulfed me like a thousand bees humming in my ears. A symphony of sounds played in my mind as I felt existence grow smaller.

After some time, I realized I was moving. I noticed only when I approached a colorful collection of stars that reminded me of a flower. Its fat, tapered petals made of light thrived in around me. Planets and their stars jumped past me. I floated near the center, flying between chunks of rock in the cosmos, and gazing at moon after moon.

I talked, but I could only hear my voice inside my head. It is hard to put into words, but I felt as if my words were going into my body instead of out of it.

“The purpose of existing in this is more than enough. I wish I’d seen it ages ago,” I murmured.

I approached a familiar setting. The star Angelica lit the space around me. Two great nebulas depicted two ladies tending to the garden of their galaxy. The planet before me was both warm and cold in equal parts.

Clouds cast lightning to the surface like minnows splashing under silver waves. Sunlight struck great prairies and illuminated wondrous oceans. I gazed longingly at the blue ocean I was sent to guard far beyond my present reach.

Not a trace of Mann could be seen from this height, but somehow I felt connected to them even if I wasn’t there.

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This was one of the more difficult pieces I've ever completed simply because it involved questions without definitive answers. If writing this story taught me anything it is that we are all bound by beliefs we are free to change at any time. I hope you enjoy more lore tales centered around Oceanus an the astral dimension! Sorry to the judges for the late post-graveyard shift post :)

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Dedications: Thank you so much Azmodeth for welcoming me to Elyria! A special thank you to Cedargore for becoming a digital home for me! Thanks a bunch to RenegadeDastard, Elsy, and my sister for proofing and/or discussing this contest with me!

Contest Link: https://chroniclesofelyria.com/forum/topic/23831/danger-on-the-high-seas-bloodline-giveaway