The Heart of the Sea

Two

The ocean was a blanket of darkness, profound and infinite, wrapping around me like a shroud. No light pierced through the dense, impenetrable water, but it didn't matter. My eyes had long since grown accustomed to the blackness, adapting to the absence of the sun's warm glow. The deep was my home, more familiar to me than the fleeting shimmer of sunlight above, the warmth of the surface world a distant memory.

Down here, the sea was silent, an eerie stillness enveloping me. No fish darted past, no vibrant colors flickered in the shadows—just an expanse of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It was as if the ocean itself was holding its breath, anticipating something monumental, something that could shatter this profound calm. The only sound was the faint hum of the currents, shifting and swirling in unseen patterns, an intricate dance that whispered secrets I was yet to understand. I could feel them tugging at me, as they had been for weeks, a strange, restless pull that curled around my heart like an insistent vine, coaxing me deeper into the abyss.

The others had gone hours ago. I'd felt their presence fade as they ascended toward the surface, drawn by the storm brewing above. I imagined them now, sleek and graceful, circling the edges of unsuspecting ships above, waiting for some poor sailor to fall into the ocean's embrace. A storm meant souls, and souls meant food. They would be there, feasting on the dead, sifting through the sailor's pockets for whatever spoils the sea offered up—a dance I had once relished but now only observed from the shadows.

But I had no desire to join them. Not tonight. Something deeper called to me, a yearning that transcended the fleeting thrill of scavenging a fresh wreck. The sea had been unsettled, its tides churning and swirling in ways that made no sense. It whispered to me, its voice a melodic echo that drew me toward the abyss, luring me deeper with each passing day. I didn't know why, but the pull was undeniable, a siren's song woven into the very fabric of my being.

It had always been this way, ever since I first felt the ocean's embrace. The sea claimed me long ago, and I had never truly escaped it. Even when I walked on land—back when I still had legs—the ocean had always whispered to me, calling me back. And now, I was bound to it, in a way that no human could understand. I belonged to the depths, and they belonged to me.

I drifted, surrendering to the current's embrace, my mind wandering as I swam through the abyss. The cold water glided over my skin like a lover's touch, familiar and soothing. There was a peace in the depths that I had never found on land. Here, in the endless dark, I could forget about the world above, the pain and loss that had once haunted me. Here, I was free.

Except for the pull. It was always there, tugging at my chest like an invisible thread, leading me deeper. I had tried to ignore it at first, dismissing it as a fleeting whim of the sea. But the feeling had only grown stronger, more insistent. Now, it consumed my every thought.

What was the sea trying to show me?

I swam on, my hands trailing through the frigid water, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of what I sought. And then, slowly, something began to take shape in the distance. A dark silhouette loomed ahead, its jagged edges barely visible in the murky water. I slowed, my heart quickening as I realized what it was—a wreck.

The outline of the ship came into focus as I drew closer, its broken hull rising from the seabed like the bones of a long-dead creature, stark against the sand. It was ancient, older than most wrecks I had encountered, its once-proud masts now splintered and half-buried like forgotten dreams. Barnacles and coral clung to its wooden beams, vibrant life entwining with decay, and the remnants of torn sails drifted lazily in the current, ghostly reminders of a time long past.

I hovered in the water, studying the wreck with a sense of anticipation thrumming through my veins. The Sea Star. I'd seen it before, in my endless wanderings, but I had never bothered to explore it. The others had told me it had been picked clean, stripped of all its treasures by scavengers long ago. There was nothing left but rotting wood and skeletons.