Legend Within Yourself

Legend Within Yourself Part 2: Seclusion

He arose with the look of great exhaustion coherant in his step. He paused breifly to take a breath and continue his decent to his feet. He felt aged and was not nearly as nimble as he once was. His wrinkled face had seemed to have grown deeper. His grey eyes sank in like he was rotting alive. Strands of hair loss and color change were detectable now and his beard had grown large and full. His skin was tanned to leather from the never setting sun and many freckles could be seen of what of his cheeks showed. His legs were thin with little muscle. His arms much the same. His lips were cracked and his voice becoming raspy and loosing strength.

Spending an eternity in this vast never land can age you very quickly into dust. The man stood and straightened himself out, many of his joints popped and ached as he did so. He moaned.

“Oh how I wish to lie to rest for only a moment!” he cried.

In this land he could not close his eyes and simply shut down his mind with ease. He stood on the main deck and looked around him to observe the similar scene which he’d seen for months now….. Or maybe it’s been years, possibly even lifetimes? Too long. Too long. Oh to endure the suspense of living in this land that never changes in the slightest! If the man were not insane at the start he sure would be now! A wretched place like this would render any man to his knees crying for brief moment of darkness and peace!

            The aged being hobbled over to the small cabin towards the stern. He stepped over a pile of rotting strange looking fish, decayed beyond recognizing. Food was not necessary here. Just the luxury of eating was pointless! Nothing had the sweet taste of honey, or cinnamon, nor sugar. Only rotten flesh was what the tongue allowed his mouth to pleasure. The door to the cabin had fallen off its hinges and lay on the deck turning a greenish brown color. Broken glass glimmered from the shattered windows which once kept the elements from entering this simple abode. He stepped on a shard and his foot bled. After a few moments he noticed the injury and removed the green stainglass from his foot and attended to the wound with some dirty cloth he found.

He now stepped into this familiar room, which was obviously weathered. The man gazed about with his ancient eyes. He shut them for a breif moment to render the thaughts he had building within him. then he observed once more. Old blank books were scattered everywhere and they were turning black of decay. A turned over desk, blank pictures on the walls, and a small cot with stains riddled all over. It emitted a deathly stench and fumed in the light that leaked into the room through the broken window wall. There was an unbalanced chandelier of bones which hung from the ceiling and swung as if to collapse. There were heaps of flesh and random objects scattered around. In the opposing corner next to the man was a pile of different weapons of metalwork. He picked up an axe and slid it into his belt.

“Oh how your dark rippling waves carve into my mind like your ocean bottom! You erode me so that it seems as if I were seeing everything as liquid and melting before me and just before I drown in it, it returns to normal!”

He chanted this to the sea for this was his timely anthem.

“Woe to you for you are the true prisoner! I see you out there in the water. I know… I know!”

He was shouting in unnamed anger.

He leaned against the broken desk and peered out the gapping hole in the wall. Mermaids with many shapes and faces rode the waves towards the violence of the sun. He reached out as if to only grasp their presence or even know their names for a brief second before they slipped through the fingers of his mind once again.

He noticed again the setting sun, oh how he longed for it to end. He always felt like counting down the seconds until it set but after minutes and hours he’d lose track of his previous number. He hated the anticipation of waiting on the ball of fire to drop into the water. He longed for the stars and moon and other celestial bodies, he wanted to be at ease.

A shadow moved past his cabin door from the outside, and then another, then two, then more, then the doorway became blackened with their presence. The man paid the spirits no mind. A cold wind blew, a sign of the death. The many memories of those who died which were once companions of this lonely man were depicted as dark shadows which simply treaded the water every third day, and crossed over the boat for it was in their way. The spirits of soldiers, fighters, loved ones alike who simply traveled and passed by as a shadow. Some he knew the names. Others only faces. Many things passed by while he was on the ship but the routinely passing of these spirits was one to who’s presence he dared not enter. The sorrow within him to see the dead love would bring him more anguish than his failing health.

“Elora!” he cried,“Elora Elaine! My darling, oh how I loved her so! Andi forever do! Only to hold once more as she was…”

He wept knowing his love to be out there among the shadows. She was one of the few memories which had given him hope in this torturous place. She was his only happiness, his only inspiration, hope, life! On occasions he would recite memorized poetry that she liked and whisper it to the waves with hopes of her hearing.

An hour had gone by and the shadows passed.  All was calm. He immerged from the cabin and observed the typical scene. He could see the dark cloud they formed on the horizon. Within moments their trace was gone. The warm wind returned and blew at a constants pace that caused the sails to lash back and forth like a whip.

He murmured around the ship lost in thought shuffling his feet along the splintery wood. He was not paying much attention to anything until before him he found a black footprint which was not a typical sight on the deck under his command! He felt cold and squinted his eyes which formed many more wrinkles on his cratered face, when he noticed another, and another. The footprints trailed to the starboard bow. Oh he knew who’s footprint it was. He compared his foot to the black print and knew. 2.5 inches shorter than his own. He knew. He only had to glance up to prove his unnerved conscious correct! He couldn’t work up the nerve to look.

“Your not real.” he whispered.

“Your not real.” in a temperate voice, there was a long pause.

“Your not real!” he shouted forcing his head to angle towards his feet.

His eyes were now shut and his jaw was clenched. His veins strained outward and he perspired along his brow. He heard breathing, soft kind breath!

“Someone to join me!” he thought.“A companion!”

 He became oblivious to the danger. He should have turned back and secluded himself into the cabin until the plague passed!  He simply relaxed, grinned and turned his head towards the final footprint. His eyes now grew dark, smile and curiosity lost. Sadness rose upon him! The memories ate away at the tissues in his mind! He was enraged with himself for letting his ignorance get to him! He could not look away now. He saw a rotted, sickly figure. Something that you run from in the dark of a night terror. Spindly black hair which once flowed thick and yellow. Red lips gone which once he kissed to the fullest, horrid teeth showing in a scowl. Eyes no longer remained in their sockts but yet a gaze still managed to stay upon him. One figure of hundreds had to stayed. Before him stood a shadow depicting his beloved Elora Elaine.