Standing at the edge of the deck, the amethyst ocean stretched endlessly before me, its surface gently undulating under the setting sun. The salty, sweet floral scent mixed with earthy undertones filled the air. The Europa Voyager cut through the violet waves, its wake trailing behind like a serpent. I leaned against the railing, the cool metal under my arms contrasting the heat of the sunlight hitting my skin.
Looking out to the vast, a massive form began to break the surface, sending ripples across the calm sea. It was a Nautilith, a creature so large it seemed more like a moving island than an animal. Its shell-like back was covered in a vibrant ecosystem of flora and fauna, teeming with life. As it breached, it let out a great gust of steam, expelling it from the blowholes along its sides, creating a misty halo around it.
For a brief moment, the creatures that made their home on its back flopped and scrambled, their movements a chaotic dance as they adjusted to the sudden exposure. Small, colourful birds took flight, circling above the Nautilith before settling back down. Creatures of the sea wriggled and splashed, their iridescent scales catching the fading sunlight. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the Nautilith began to descend, its massive form slipping back beneath the waves.
Figured that was as good of a sign as it gets. Reaching to my side, I took hold of the fishing rod that I had found earlier. The conversations and laughter coming from inside the superstructure felt distant and hollow to me. It wasn't that I couldn't understand or join them, it was just not something I could enjoy at the moment.
I cast the line out, watching the lure arc gracefully before it disappeared into the violet depths. It was now just a matter of time and patience, to listen to my thoughts for what may be hours. With the ship moving, I didn't have to bother reeling so much as the fly drifted on its own.
.
As I stood there, fishing rod in hand, watching the lure dance on the purple waves, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to Ash. It had been days since that night. The tension between us had started to feel almost palpable, a constant undercurrent that disrupted the group's dynamic.
It was getting ridiculous, really. One small slip-up, and now she was treating me like I was some kind of plague. I grit my teeth in frustration, trying to push away the nagging sense of... I'm not even sure what anymore.
My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone else walking on the deck. At first, I didn't bother to check for the source of it as I didn't believe it had anything to do with me. However, it was quickly made clear that they were approaching me based on the sound of their stepping closing in. I glanced sideways, and there she was—Ash, standing silently, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
Her sudden appearance caught me off guard. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the air between us thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. She looked out into the vast expanse of the purple ocean, her profile etched in the soft glow of the setting sun. The silence stretched on, heavy and expectant.
I opened my mouth, ready to voice my frustration, to finally confront the elephant in the room, but Ash spoke first, cutting through the silence with a quiet voice that carried an unexpected weight.
"I have a family, Zach," she began, her eyes still locked on the distant waves. "A husband, kids... they're everything to me." Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the life she had beyond our journey, beyond this ship and this mission.
Ash turned to me, her eyes fierce yet soft as she said, "Which is why I forgive you."
"Pardon?" I shot back, feeling a spark of offense ignite within me. "You forgive me?"
"Yeah, I forgive you for making a move on me," she replied adamantly, her tone unwavering.
The spark of offense turned into a blaze. "First of all, I was not making any sort of moves on you. Not in any world would I see you as anything more than an acquaintance. Second of all, what about what you did—completely avoiding me? Why the hell do I have to be forgiven?"
Ash's face twisted in offense at my first statement, but she quickly moved on to the second. "I avoided you because of your actions, and what's with you acting like you're better than everyone? All you do is find some isolated spot and rot, believing that you're too good to interact with us."
"At least I didn't just leave you to be consumed by the storm," I countered, my voice rising with my frustration. The memory of that day was still fresh in my mind, the betrayal like a fresh wound.
"As if you wouldn't have if we were to swap places. You are proving my exact point," Ash remarked, her words sharp and cutting.
The tension between us was thick and palpable, the silence that followed filled with the weight of unspoken grievances. The gentle lapping of the waves against the ship's hull was the only sound, while the silence brewed a storm between us.
Finally, Ash broke the silence. "Letting you know, the others told me to stop trying so hard to be nice to you. They don't think you're capable of human emotions. Yet I still try and persist, hoping to have at least some sort of friendship with you. I simply pitied you."
"I never asked you to," I replied coldly, the words coming out bitter. The wind whipped around us, carrying away the warmth of the morning sun and leaving a chill in its wake.
Ash's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Just because you don't understand what having a family is like, doesn't mean you can't try to understand my situation."
Her words hung in the air as she walked away, leaving me as the sun completely sets over the horizon.
