The Sound of Blue

Chapter One - Storm

The night was dark. Black, rolling storm clouds carpeted the sky as bolts of lightning licked through them. Strong winds bent trees and sent debris whipping through the air like shrapnel. Foaming, spitting, and writhing aimlessly, the ocean clawed at the rocky shoreline. Eric watched this all unfurl from his place by the window.

The fire crackled in its hearth and provided ample light for the dark room. Eric ran one hand through his tousled, brown hair and with the other, cradled a bottle of ale. The taste of it burned on his tongue. He watched intently from the window, studying the weather. Eric had never seen the seas this wild since-

"Rough weather out there, huh?" A deep voice boomed from behind him.

Eric didn't answer, but instead finished off the remainder of his drink. His grey eyes searched the waves, hard gaze unwavering.

"I'll get you another."

The voice belonged to Gus, the bartender. He was a man who perhaps knew Eric the best because of Eric's frequent visits. Though nobody really knew Eric Clayton. He kept to himself mainly, only talking when it needed to be done and no more than necessary. The extent of common knowledge of him was that he was a sailor, lived alone, and could often be found at the tavern.

Eric took another swig of ale and furrowed his eyebrows. Gus pushed the bottle away as Eric reached for more. "Slow down. You'll drink yourself to death." Gus threw him a sympathetic look.

The only sounds were of the pelting rain on the tin roof and the crash of distant waves. Eric went back to staring out of the window. Then his lifeless and bloodshot eyes moved to his hands, which he began to wring, as if washing away bad memories. "You know," His voice was low, "Today she would've been twenty four."

A fresh burst of grey rain splattered against the window. Gus pulled a chair up beside Eric and waited. There were no customers left in the shop, and it seemed as if he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"I visited her today." Eric spoke slowly, words slurred. "Her grave, that is. The old, white stone atop the hill. And it isn't really her. She is long gone. I know that."

Eric reached over Gus' arm for the ale, but this time, Gus didn't stop him.

"I put some flowers there. She would've liked 'em. White daisies..." He sighed long and heavy, letting his head droop into his hands.

And then, he began to cry. It was a pitiful thing. Large, grey tears rolled from his eyes and down his cheeks while a choked sob was emitted from his lips. Gus frowned and patted Eric's back carefully to try and comfort him.

"I miss her, Gus."

"I know." He paused. "We all do, Eric. We all do."

Eric clenched his fists until his nails dug into the flesh of his palms. There was a moment of silence where Eric tried to gather himself and where Gus didn't know what exactly to say.

"But, you know..." Gus' voice was a whisper now. "That was a year ago. You can't let her death rule your life. You are young yet. And though it can make you forget, this ale will ruin you. It'll always be in the back of your mind no matter how many bottles you down. Just promise me one thing."

Eric raised his head as if to ask: what?

"Try to forget it. Go out. Do things. Sail again. In my ripe, ol' age, I seem to remember the careless you. The old you. The young, aspiring sailor that was all whispers with the ladies." Here, he sadly chuckled and rubbed his greying hair. "Don't sit here rotting in this pub. You don't need it. Go do what you love. Get back to the world. Promise me that."

Eric stared off again through the window and mumbled something under his breath that Gus couldn't hear.

"Eh?"

He repeated it again. "I'm entering."

Gus just stared, mouth open in disbelief. Had he heard Eric wrong?

"I'm entering." Eric met his eyes, then produced a small, crumpled pamphlet from his pocket. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"No. Not in dreadful weather like this! And not after being so drunk! What under heaven and earth inspired you to do such a thing?"

"You know exactly what." Eric's voice rumbled.

It grew quiet once more as gusts of wind rattled the windows in their frames. Gus sat there frowning. "Guess I can't stop you there..." Gus muttered in less than a whisper.

Eric would've been handsome. If not for the fine layer of stubble that coated his chin and the aging his face had taken on, seemingly ten years past his own. His eyes were bloodshot, hair unkempt, and skin, a sickly pale green color.

Eric finally stood, leaning heavily on his chair and wobbling on his feet.

"You should stay here tonight." Gus offered.

Eric attempted something like a smile, but it twisted his face in such a way that looked like a wince. He nodded and tried to take an unsteady step forward. Gus was there immediately, looping his arm around Eric's shoulders. They headed upstairs, step by labored step, to the guest room. Eric collapsed on the bed, falling asleep within a matter of seconds.

The rain still beat on the house mercilessly and the clouds still rumbled with thunder. The waves still crashed, the wind still howled. Yet there was something different tonight. The air crackled with possibility and the unknown. Something big was coming. Something nobody could foresee.