Abyssal Reverie

Chapter 4: The Offering

"You are Silence on Sacred Shores."

I spent hours writing and rewriting what I thought Vessel would want to hear. His question left so many openings for failure. If I didn't understand what he was asking, I may never get the answers to the questions I had. It felt like a test, which appeared to have more than one answer, but everyone believed one to be right over the others. There was this nagging feeling that no matter what I did, it would lead to some discussion about the greater good of sleep. About how the silence of the world was correlated with the last belief in something bigger than ourselves. The pen felt heavy in my hand, my mind swimming with all the possibilities. If this were going to work, I would have to dig deep inside myself, pulling together the fractured parts of myself, and tell him how I felt.

"The journal task was hard for me too." Simon joined me in the kitchen, his small frame so silent when approaching that it startled me.

"So this is something he does with everyone?" I smiled; the idea that everyone here was going through the same thing I was right now bringing a twinge of relief.

"They are all different, the questions, I mean." He braced himself on the small workstation before us; his knuckles turning white as they gripped the edge tightly. "He is trying to bring you out of your shell. It makes you think about who you are. Who you want to be at the end of all of this." He picked up a slice of bread from the platter I had cut for dinner. He was picking away the crust, creating a flaky disaster. "Just be honest with yourself. We all have a part of ourselves that calls to Sleep if we listen. She guides you through all."

"What do you know about Sleep, Simon?" I asked, flicking the pen back and forth between each of my fingers. "Have you ever seen her?"

Simon smiled a coy smile. "It's not that easy, Selah. You have to do this on your own. And when Vessel wishes to tell you more about our God, he will. It's all part of the process. It's worth it." He took a mouthful of bread, ripping the soft center away from his lips with a loud crunch. With the smile still on his face, he walked back the way he came, stopping just before the door and meeting my eyes.

"If you just trust yourself, all will be well. I promise you have more strength inside of you than you realize. We all do."

And with that final piece, he was off, out of the door and onto his next cryptic task for the day. I wondered what a boy his age did to entertain himself on a ship all day. Collecting what was left of my belongings and double-checking all the prep for the dinner service had been done, I made my way back up to the top deck. The crew was busy checking sails, washing the floor, and dredging fish up from the deepest ocean layers for our supper.

It was a well-oiled machine, The Nazareth. It was almost like the ship taught us what she needed, and each man knew what they had to do to keep her moving toward our destination. Gathered around the stern of the ship were II, III, and IV. They were all huddled around a small table with what appeared to be maps. They were all covered with Markings similar to what I had seen on the book's spine yesterday in the navigation room. I casually took the last remaining seat, attempting to look busy with my journal as they continued their conversation. "We should be there already, II. I am telling you. We are way behind schedule." IV was hurriedly flipping between three separate maps. "If my calculations are correct, we are about three days off course."

"We are nowhere near where we need to be. Vessel had said-" II began to say when III jumped in. "Vessel had said nothing. We were given this task; he wants a confirmed location by the end of today. Now stop bickering and pull yourselves together."

By the time they had noticed me, I was pretending to be too busy with my assignment to hear a word they were saying.

"If you were going to join us, you might have said hello, Selah." III propped his feet up on the table, the maps of the world splayed out on his lap. "How is your assignment going?"I rolled my eyes, knowing they didn't care; they couldn't help me even if I wanted them to. "Just fine; I love cryptic questions from a man who doesn't appear to like me very much. I am sure that was the highlight of your recruitment process." I went back to flipping through the pages of my journal to pretend to look busy.