The ship was massive. So big it felt like a city floating on the ocean. Nobody alive had ever seen it move. It just sat there, surrounded by endless water.
Cid leaned against the railing at the edge. The wind carried the faint smell of salt and rust.
Aira walked towards him. Pats his shoulder. Squinting at the empty waters below.
"No fish again," he muttered. "The nets came up empty this morning."
Aira hugged her knees closer. "My dad said the same yesterday. People are saying it's the ancestors' wrath."
Cid scoffed. "Ancestors. Always the ancestors. Maybe the fish just left. Maybe we should try the islands."
Aira's eyes went wide. "Don't even joke about that. It's forbidden. The last man who tried… he never came back. Nobody leaves this ship and lives."
"Or maybe..." Cid said, lowering his voice.
Aira shivered. "You know what happens if the Pope finds out we even talk like that? People would say the ancestors will curse us. They'll… they'll take the little food we have left."
The wind tugged at Cid's hair, and he glanced down at his friend. "What if the ancestors aren't real? What if we've just been scared for so long that nobody dares to see the truth?"
Aira didn't answer.
Cid listened for waves instead of watching them. He stared at the horizon, but his gaze couldn't reach it. His mind filled in shapes and colors, he couldn't see. Cid had been blind since birth.
"You think the islands are safe?" she finally asked.
Cid shrugged. "...No. But maybe... worth the risk. I mean, we can't even catch fish anymore. People are starving. Something's wrong."
Silence.
Aira nudged Cid lightly with her shoulder. "You're too quiet today. You've been staring at the horizon like it owes you money."
Cid smirked. "Better than panicking like you. Half the time you talk, I'm waiting for you to get us both killed."
"Hey! I'm cautious. Strategic," Aira said, holding up her hands like she'd been accused of a crime. "Not everyone can be as… as… as cautious as you."
Cid laughed, a soft sound that carried in the wind. "Cautious doesn't get fish, Aira."
She grinned. "Maybe, but it does make me the smarter one."
He stuck his tongue out. "In your dreams."
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, listening to the gentle lapping of water against the hull.
"You really want to go to the islands, don't you?" she asked softly.
Cid's grin faded. "I do. I think… maybe we're meant to see more than the ship. You and me."
Aira's fingers brushed against his arm.
"I'll follow you, Cid. Even if it's stupid. Even if it's dangerous. You know that, right?"
"I do," he said, meeting her smile. "And I'll keep us alive, even if it kills me."
Aira rolled her eyes, but she didn't pull away. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it," he said, nudging her again.
She laughed again, louder this time, and leaned her back against the railing. "Maybe I do."
Far below, in the ship's heart. Pope Vanx stood before the crowd, voice booming like thunder.
"The seas are barren because of the Voyagers!" he declared. "Those who defied our sacred law, who left the ship, have cursed us all! The ancestors punish us with empty waters, with failing nets, with hunger! To leave the ship is betrayal. To betray the ship is to betray your very blood!"
The crowd lowered their heads, murmuring prayers. Fear hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight that made even the bravest children shrink.
Vanx raised his hand. "Remember this... The ship is all we have. Obedience is survival. Disobedience is death."
A trembling hand rose from the middle of the crowd.
A woman... thin, hollow cheeked, eyes red and swollen as if she hadn't slept in days stepped forward. Her voice cracked as she spoke.
"Pope Vanx... w-what are the islands?" she asked, voice breaking. "And... what happens if someone betrays the ship."
People shifted back from her, whispering. She looked like a lifeless body. Guards watched her closely.
The pope turned his gaze on her, expression cold behind his holy calm.
"My child," he said slowly, "the islands are not the land. They are graves. The resting place of our ancestors."
The hall grew still.
He raised a finger.
"Nine people left the ship in the past years," Vanx declared. "Nine... who disobeyed the sacred law."
A shudder ran through the crowd.
"And the ancestors devoured them. They were torn apart the moment their feet touched the shores."
"...They were shot with the thunder seeds."
The woman covered her mouth, tears spilling again.
Vanx's voice grew thunderous, echoing through the hall.
"But hear me now. The prophecy warns us... if a tenth person sets foot on the islands... the ancestors will rain down the stars from the sky."
Someone from the crowd shouted. "But... t-the fish... we need food."
Silence filled the room.
Pope Van spread his arms.
"...And the falling stars will burn the ship. Every sinner! Every innocent! All of us!"
Gasps filled the room. Someone dropped to their knees. Someone else sobbed.
Vanx stepped closer to the woman, lowering his voice into a chilling whisper.
"You understand now, don't you? To even think of leaving is to doom us all."
The woman nodded rapidly, broken, terrified.
Vanx returned to the altar, lifting his staff.
"The ship is safety," he thundered. "The sea is judgement. The islands are death."
Silence crashed over the hall like a wave.