Harker's Story

     His sister had gone up above deck to spend their last hour in the sunshine before the weather turned, but he had opted to remain below deck inside their cabin.

     He held up a piece of paper heavy with ink.

     “I’m leaving a memoir for Aren. I don’t know how it’s ever going to get to him, but if I seal it in a glass jar there’s a chance it’ll survive the shipwreck and perhaps one day even make its way to Neovia. I want him to know how much he meant to me, even if I couldn’t tell him myself.”

     “In this version of reality you never meet him. But maybe the universe will allow for that and let him find your story. I hope so, at least.”

     “Me too.” Harker blew on the final page to dry off the ink. “I’m done. You should stay down here with me – the storm should be coming in any minute now.”

     His sister shook her head.

     “I want to be above deck when it happens. We might have a chance of swimming ashore once the boat sinks.”

     “Jiselle –” He began but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

     “I know you said nobody ever finds the shipwreck or anyone that was on the boat. But I’m not going to sit around down here and just let it happen. Are you coming with me?”

     Harker signed his name with a flourish and folded the pieces of paper neatly, sealing them with a glob of hot wax. Carefully feeding them into the glass bottle, he popped the cork back in and dribbled wax around the rim.

     “Coming. I’m going to throw this overboard so it doesn’t get lost with the rest of the ship.”

     Together they ascended the stairs up to the deck, where a cold wind was starting to blow. The bright blue sky had started to darken to grey, and thick clouds were slowly creeping towards them as the boat headed out into deeper waters.

     Harker and Jiselle stood at the edge of the deck, looking out at the water. It had started to become choppy with little waves, and the boat lurched slightly.

     Harker reached back with his arm as far as he could and hurled the glass bottle out to sea with as much strength as he could muster. It landed with a plop some sixty meters away and floated for a long minute before finally sinking.

     “Who knows where that’ll wash up,” he mused as Jiselle took his hand. Above, the clouds had started to swell. The crew of the ship had started to shout, and an attendant rushed towards them.

     “There’s a storm coming – freak of a thing, there was no warning whatsoever! Today was supposed to be as clear as a summer’s morning. We must ask that you return downstairs to your cabin.”

     “We’d prefer to stay above deck.” Harker said in a tone that brokered no argument. The attendant gave them a puzzled look over his shoulder as he hurried towards the other passengers. “This is it, Jiselle.”

     The storm hit within ten minutes. Everybody besides Harker and his sister had returned below and they had the entire deck to themselves. The rain was lashing torrents down and the wind whipped at them, stinging their faces and pulling at their clothes. They stood together on the railing by the edge of the deck, and after one final look at each other the twins leapt off the boat, diving neatly into the churning water.

     The cold slammed into Harker like a hammer and he was pulled underneath by a strong current. He kicked his legs and opened his mouth to scream, but all that did was fill his lungs with cold saltwater. The currents pulled him this way and that, ripping at his clothes and hair. He felt Jiselle beside him under the water, kicking out with her legs and arms.

     When at last he finally broke the surface, he coughed out a mouthful of seawater and bobbed awkwardly, treading water with his legs and reaching his arms out to locate his sister.

     The sky had darkened to a deep purple-grey with thick dark clouds swirling, and the rain continued to pelt him even as he swam.

     “Jiselle!” He was pulled under again and fought to kick his way back to the surface, spitting out another mouthful of water.

     His sister was nowhere in sight.

     *

     Harker woke a long time later, his return to consciousness hitting him like a bolt as he quickly sat upright. He promptly leaned over and heaved up a stomach full of saltwater and lay with his face in the warm sand, stinging everywhere. His lips were swollen and coarse, his face cold against the warmth of the sun-baked sand. His legs and arms ached with a weariness he had never known before, and his head was pounding against his temples.

     He lay with his face in the sand for several long minutes, breathing slowly through his nose until the ache behind his eyes lessened and he could open them without the scream of hot pain.

     “Jiselle,” he mumbled into the sand, feeling the grit of the grains in his mouth and nose. He didn’t care and took in another deep breath.

     After a while the pounding in his head started to quieten, his scorched throat started to relax, and he sat upright again. He squinted his streaming red eyes against the brightness of the sun and raised a hand to shield them from the glow. The sun kissed his skin, warm and tingling, and the breeze off the ocean was cool on his face.

     He looked out over the water, softly lapping at the shore where his shoes were soaked through. His shirt and pants had mostly dried beneath the sun, although his feet remained in the water. He pulled them out and slipped his shoes off, feeling the warmth of the sand run through his wet toes.

     He glanced behind him – all around there was beach, soft white sand and clean blue water. He wondered vaguely where he had washed up, and whether it was anywhere near home.

     Where was home?

     There was Neovia, with Aren. Before that had been Neovia with his sister, but he didn’t think he had washed up on a shore where that would ever be home again. He wondered where she had ended up, and whether she had managed to wash up ashore somewhere and if he might one day find her again.

     It all hurt his head too much to think about, and he lay back down on the sand again, rolling over and closing his eyes against the glare of the sun.

     *

     When he woke again later his nausea and pain had mostly passed, although he was awfully parched. His clothes and shoes had dried in the sun and felt warm and crisp to the touch, and he pulled his shoes back onto his feet and brushed the sand off his trousers. He stood up on slightly unsteady legs, testing out his limbs. Nothing was broken, and apart from a slightly swollen ankle, he had come out the winner of his battle with the ocean. It had chewed him up and spat him back out, but at least he was alive and relatively unhurt.

     He shook the weariness from his bones and made a tentative step forward on his sore ankle. It held his weight and only complained of a mild pain, and he brushed off the rest of the sand from his body before heading down the shore towards the dock.

     Upon arrival he realised it was not the dock he had departed from and he wondered where exactly he had ended up. There seemed to be nobody else around, and he sat down on the pier.

     It was there that he sat for several hours, idly drawing in the sand with a stray stick he had picked up. He drew himself, his Krawk features golden even in sand, and his sister beside him. He also drew a Lutari-looking figure to be Aren, and a small Kadoatie that very slightly resembled his own. He sat there until the sun started to set, and a cold breeze began to pick up across the water. It was then that he noticed another figure in the distance walking towards the pier.

     “Hullo!” He called out, his voice raw and hoarse. “Hullo, are you there?”

     “Who’s there?” The figure called back, and Harker dropped his stick in the sand as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.

     “Harker! I’ve washed up ashore – there was a terrible storm. Our boat...” The Krawk trailed off, stepping off the wooden jetty onto his sand portrait. He squinted his short-sighted eyes at the figure in the distance. “Our boat was lost. Please, will you tell me where I am?”

     “Aye – this is Lutari Island.” As the figure drew closer Harker saw that he was indeed a Lutari. His fur was a rich red and he wore a colourful hat that cast a shadow over his face. “Where in Neopia did you wash up from?”

     “We departed from Mystery Island. It feels like forever ago, but it can only have been a day or two.”

     “A day or two? Are you sure? I don’t recall seeing any incoming boats from Mystery Island on the inventory. It’s the 15th day of Hiding, Y21.”

     “Y21? That can’t be right. It was Y11 when we left.”

     “It’s definitely Y21, son.”

     Harker grabbed at the edge of the railing of the dock as his knees went out from underneath him.

     He had somehow ended up back where he had started.

     To be continued…