The king was jolted awake, his breath ragged as if the very soul had been torn from him and then returned. Sweat poured from his face, and his hands trembled violently. The nightmare had been unlike any he'd experienced before—a different kind of terror. He rose slowly, heavy-footed, and moved toward the balcony of his room. Morning sunlight filtered in, casting golden hues over the scene. Below, the garden was alive with the sound of rustling willow trees, birds chirping as they built nests, and the rhythmic crash of the waves against the rocks. The king stood, staring at the vast expanse of blue before him, save for the yellow sun that rose over the horizon. The tranquil image of nature only deepened his unease.
His thoughts raced. Perhaps it was a mistake to send those ships to a place we only vaguely believe in, a place seen by few, if at all. Is there truly another land beyond these waters? Is it inhabited? Or is it just empty space, stretching far away from us?
He asked himself aloud, Are the sailors on those ships safe? The question seemed to snap him back to the present, his eyes focusing once more on the ocean. A bitter breath escaped him. No, they'll be fine. They won't let the sea claim them. But if I ever return with their blood on my hands, I would say the sea has slaughtered them. His mind churned with a thousand unanswered questions. No one had the answers—except the sailors themselves. Though everyone clung to hope that the ships would soon return, deep down, they all knew that those ships had been lost to the sea long ago. Months had passed, and no one could survive without water and food for so long.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, followed by a young woman's voice. "Father, you're late. Everyone's waiting for you."
The king turned away from the balcony and headed for the door. As he opened it, his daughter stood before him, young, with brown eyes and hair as dark as night. Behind her were two maids, carrying food.
She hesitated, then stepped forward. "Father, you're late. Everyone's waiting for you."
He didn't look at her. His gaze remained fixed on the blue of the ocean, as if looking for an answer in the vastness before him. She sighed, pity evident on her face. "They won't be gone much longer. I know they'll return soon. Everyone is anxious because of their delay. But I'm sure something good is keeping them from coming back right away. Those ships are filled with men who believe in you, Father. They left behind families under your rule, families who trust your judgment. Everyone believes that the ships and their crews will return soon."
There was no expression on the king's face, just a deep emptiness as he stared at the waves, as if listening for the sound of a single ship breaking through the noise of the world. His daughter approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered, feeling an odd sensation as if his soul had just returned to his body.
"Don't worry so much, Father," she said gently. "You haven't eaten anything for days. If you keep this up, you'll get sick."
He finally turned to look at her, then glanced at the food the maids had placed on the table. "I told you not to worry," he said softly. "I'll eat with everyone later. I'm fine."
She raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking about worrying. You've locked yourself in your room for days, and still haven't eaten. You can't go on like this, Father."
She paused, signaling to the maids to set the food down. "Moses has already met with the governors. It's time for you to join them. They've been waiting long enough."
The king exhaled deeply. "Alright, tell them I'm coming."
His daughter nodded, then walked out of the room with the maids, leaving him alone again. As they departed, she couldn't help but think of Satel, who had sailed on one of those ships. Everything she had said to her father was just an attempt to convince herself that the ships would return soon, even though in her heart, she knew that something terrible had happened. The delay wasn't just a mistake or a simple setback—it was the result of something far worse.
As she wandered the halls, she overheard servants discussing the rumors of the city—the hope that had turned to despair. Everyone had lost faith in the return of the ships and their sailors. In the midst of her inner turmoil, Naaman passed by her, not noticing her presence, and made his way to the king's room.
Far from that balcony, in the unforgiving sea, the ships that had set sail were struggling against the waves. Onboard, there were only the bodies of those who had once lived. The sea had claimed them.