"Adventure…"
Aaron's voice came out in a soft, almost dreamlike tone, his turquoise eyes glistening with a renewed sense of purpose.
That was my dream…
Plunging through the gaps in his memory, fragments of his youth appeared in vivid flashes that revived his passion.
Ever since he was a child, he had wondered what life could've been like outside of his small fishing village; the vast, wondrous sea beyond the horizon always fascinated him.
To him, it was the ultimate freedom; however, he had never been able to travel abroad or even venture to a different island, the burdens of life holding him back.
The Ten Great Seas that divided the world constrained him to a boring, plain existence that drained him of life.
However, somehow and someway, he had mysteriously awoken upon an empty and silent vessel without any memory of who or what he was.
Pondering over the many thoughts that crowded his mind, he decided to slowly walk outside the cabin with the intent to explore the ship further.
Turning his head around, he noticed the helm was shattered into pieces, the dark wood covered in dust and partially burned.
At the sight, a frown pulled at the corners of his lips, a sound above his head catching his gaze.
The masts were bare, not a sail in sight, without even a sliver of ruined cloth aboard the small sloop for him to forge into one.
How is this ship even supposed to move? And more importantly, how the hell did I even get out of here? Was it just the currents?
Feeling the weak waves lapping against the side of the ship, he walked across the deck towards a small set of stairs that led upwards to the helm.
Creeeeak!
He winced at each piercing shriek that the wood let out under his weight, each rotten step or railing making for a dangerous climb.
While it was only eight steps upward, each one bent into a U-shape as he pressed down on it, the last one so rotten that his foot broke through it.
Ah?
Pulling his foot out of the hole and jumping over the gap, he was finally able to get a good look at the broken wheel.
The handles were rotten and bare, the burnt and dusty remains that he had seen earlier beyond repair.
What truly interested the blond-haired boy were the intricate gemstones carved into the center of a pitch-black steel that held the shape together.
The craftsmanship was like no other, the details so tiny and perfect that it could've been a gift to one of the Seven Sea Kings.
Appearing like crimson sapphires, a ring of gold surrounded each one, the very center of the helm being occupied by a massive black rock.
Is that a gemstone, too, or did the shipbuilder just have a strange taste in decorating?
Running his hands over the surface, he felt a prick in the back of his mind, a feeling of vague remembrance coming through his body.
"Strange…"
Bending over to pick up the broken wheel, his fingers clasped around the unusually sturdy rotten wood that felt cold to the touch.
Lifting it upward, the weight of the metallic plating made the boy wince, his back straining as he painstakingly placed it back onto the helm.
"There we go."
Exhaling hard, he reached his hands out to attempt to repair the bolts that bound it; however, to his surprise, they seemed to have already clicked back together.
Is it magnetic?
Changing his game plan, he stretched out his shoulders, his hands moving forward and clasping the rotting wheel.
Trying to turn it to the side, only the sound of metal catching against something else echoed out, the helm seemingly locked in place.
Huh? I didn't place any locks on this, and I didn't see one before, so what's going on?
Pushing again with all his force left him without results and even more tired than he already was, the gray fog surrounding the boat shifting as if to taunt the boy.
Mumbling a curse under his breath, he left the area above the cabin, instead turning his attention to the various objects sprawled across the deck.
Ropes were tied in thick knots that were too tight for him to unwind, while the anchor was covered in filthy green moss that stunk of a vile scent.
Out of all the random coils and wires tucked around the deck, Aaron's eyes caught on one that could assist him perfectly.
Hidden beneath a broken barrel, a turquoise fishing rod with incredibly thick metal wire sprang out in the boy's view.
Uncoiling the tool slowly, he successfully obtained a nearly ten-meter thread that, even when strained by a fish perhaps the size of a shark, wouldn't break.
As he returned to the helm, he tied a firm knot around one of the handles, making sure it wouldn't come loose as he tugged.
Then, applying plenty of slack and wrapping his hands in cloth, which he had ripped from his shirt, he stood at the bow of the ship.
Tightening his grip, he pulled with all his might, attempting to break whatever lock bound the helm in place, allowing the vessel to once again move.
A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he tried with all his strength, the seemingly invisible helm not even budging an inch.
After nearly ten minutes of trying, he reluctantly set down the coil, collapsing to the deck as he sighed heavily.
There's really nothing I can do here…
Looking over at the rusted, almost completely deteriorated iron cannons that lined each side of the tiny sloop, he shook his head.
Useless…
Staring out into the empty foggy sea beyond his vision, he fell deep into thought, the reality of his situation crushing down on him.
Dammit! I'm really stuck in the middle of who knows where! For all I know, this could be the Abyss itself and I—
He was cut off by a sharp growl that shattered the eerie silence, his eyes instantly darting around in shock.
Yet, only a moment later, he stared downward at his own stomach, the so-called monster that he had believed to have heard simply his own hunger.
"Heh… I guess whatever brought me here didn't feed me enough."
Chuckling at his own joke, he stood up slowly, cracking his back and gazing off into the dark sea waves.
Fishing huh? Maybe I could give that a try.
Turning his gaze to where the fishing rod lay, he furrowed his brow in confusion, a tight knot of fear bubbling up in his chest.
"W-what?"
Whipping his head towards the helm, he checked that the wire was still attached, his eyes quickly returning back to the rod.
Instead of the empty turquoise tool, there was now an illusory wire that flickered dimly in the darkness that surrounded the vessel.
H-How did that get there…
Taking small, wary steps towards the newly changed rod, he leaped forward, grabbing at it like it would bolt away at any moment.
Unfortunately for his ego, nothing happened, his overreaction leaving him embarrassed even without anyone to witness it.
Staring sideways at the perfectly assembled tool, he cautiously prepared to toss it off the edge; however, a sudden realization came to his mind.
T-theres line, but wheres the hook or bait?
Glancing everywhere around the ship, he found nothing; the only idea that crossed his mind was that of using himself as bait.
No… Never…
Dismissing the idea due to the idea of the hellish beasts known as sea terrors who lurked within all seas regardless of their safety.
While some of the beasts could be compared to a simple predator only slightly stronger than humans, others had the capabilities to erase you with a flick of their tail, the power of an Apex-level terror truly supreme.
Fearing the idea of even fishing up one of those ancient sea terrors that feasted on fifteen-year-old boys and ruined vessels, he slowly placed the fishing rod on the floor, backing away from it slowly.
There has to be something here that can help me… Otherwise…
Closing his eyes tightly at the thought of starving to death in the middle of the sea, he turned his attention back to the captain's cabin.
Maybe I can pry that shelf open, and there'll be food inside!
As a slight smile came over his face, he walked towards the hatch, careful to duck his head this time to prevent slamming it into the ceiling.
Gazing around the room, his eyes caught on a small black puddle near the very drawer he had come to see, a shock of realization shooting through his skull.
That paper!
Moving quickly, he dove his hands into the sludge, removing the now soggy and ruined piece of paper from the substance.
"No…"
Sadness tugged at his heart; the idea that the information recorded on the parchment was now ruined drove his mood even further into a hole than it already was.
Exhaling hard, he placed the paper atop the drawer, the faded light from the gray fog shining across its surface.
Slowly, as if from a story of old, the lost ink became legible, fragments of the original message bleeding back into reality.
"Huh!?"
Leaping upward and staring down at the ruined sheet, a smile tugged at his lips, the hope he had been given finally restored.
Only seven words were able to be seen; the rest were either so ruined by the black-sludge that not even a master could fix them.
Written in the standard language of the Ten Seas, Nordic, each of the normal characters was altered slightly as if an archaic version had been used.
Occasionally, he saw other letters appear throughout the paper; however, they were written in a runic tongue, one not native anywhere in the world in this day and age.
Let's see…
Furrowing his brow and focusing his gaze, he read out what he saw on the paper aloud.
"Awaken, oh Lost Ship of the Sea."
There was a silence for a moment, one that resounded throughout the world like an endless void.
Then, as if an earthquake slammed through the world, a groaning from the hull boomed outward like an explosion.
Aaron's balance was lost instantly, his legs collapsing under him as he nearly hit his head against the drawer.
"Agh! What the hell!?"
His eyes stared up at the ceiling, which dripped the black-liquid that had damaged the paper; however, strangely enough, that very hole had vanished like magic.
Huh?
The floorboards beneath his body shifted and creaked, flashes of turquoise illuminated an area nearly ten kilometers in circumference.
In the southern tip of the world on a continent made of ice, it was said that the sky turned a radiant blue at the very same moment he spoke the words.
Yet to the blond-haired boy on the ship, his gaze was too focused to notice the heavenly light, the changes all around him drawing his gaze.
The long-deteriorated drawer restored itself in a flash of white, all traces of wear and tear from what seemed like centuries of damage erased in an instant.
KREEEAK!
The ship lurched forward, the boy's body being thrown into the wall as the sound of chains moving resounded through the vessel.
Attempting to stand up, he nearly lost his balance again, his head being forced into the ceiling as a horrific wave slammed into the side of the boat.
"Whoa!"
Gripping the wall with all his strength, he stayed standing, his eyes narrowed on the hatch that led out onto the deck.
Slowly hobbling forward, he pulled himself out of the hole and into the blinding light that struck his face.
Squinting through the radiance, he watched as his eyes adjusted to the wondrous turquoise runes that covered every inch of the deck.
Hundreds, no, thousands of the characters that were made up of even smaller symbols that the boy couldn't quite make out coated the vessel's deck like an infection.
Trying to decipher their meaning, he was left stumped, the ancient language unknown to the fishing village he had grown up in.
Making his way completely out of the cabin and standing up tall, his mouth fell open in awe, the scene before him catching his breath.
"I-It's moving?"
Atop the once barren masts, there were now brilliant turquoise flames that shone like hellfire, and miniature cyan sparkles fell from their lofty perch.
Turning around, he heard a loud creaking of the helm turning, the sight of the wheel moving and spinning in circles inspiring joy into his heart.
"I-Is this magic?"
In his homeland, there had only been tales of what mages could do, the occasional visit by powerful figures reinforcing the belief.
However, when faced with the truest extent of what that mystical practice could grant, he couldn't help but want more.
Walking with a daze, he made his way up the freshly restored stairs, the broken step from earlier now completely repaired.
Turning the corner to where the helm sat, he had already known where he would go next, the direction of his home, the West.
"Eh?"
Aaron muttered before the confusion suddenly hit him.
"What just happened…?"