"I could tell the story..."
"Always with the stories", Darrell grumbled, "why not something else?"
"What else?", David turned and asked.
"I don't know... But a different discourse, besides stories."
"Stories are fine", said Bernard, shaking his head awake.
"Stories then, I have the book. I'll read..."
"The Story Of Paramon"
"Quallous sent them on the trip and pushed the boat off from the harbor. The ocean welcomed them with showers and waves of gold. Paramon stood high from his threshold. Below the sails, he commanded them to row forward. Along with them, several triremes and dinghies glided.
The trireme swam away from Wailen, and it sailed into the open ocean. A trip, it would be. Forward, the boat sailed. The wood rasped as the steering oar turned.
It set off into the oceans. The boat undulated in the water as the waves carried it. Heat wavered in the air. The sun beat down on the backs of the rowers. The sun cast rays onto the waves, and the ocean glittered with orange.
The sun fell down the sky, and the moon radiated outward. Silver outlined the moon. Wailen darkened as the stars moved across the sky. The rowers rested their oars and they slept on the benches. Sopris ate dinner with him and then went into his below decks cabin. Paramon slept inside the boat cabin. The waves soothed him into sleep.
Dawn spread through the sky with blue, and the rowers woke up. The trireme sailed forward. Blue faded into grey, clouds covered the sky, foam erupted into the air. Paramon stood. Like a great mountain unperturbed.
The waves pushed against the boat. The wood groaned and the boat ran up the waves. The oars cracked under pressure. Dark waves split underneath the boat's bow.
Water swirled into the clouds, and the wind spiraled into every boat. A whirlpool spun beneath the wind funnel, and the waves curved into it. The sailors yelled and screamed as they were swept overboard. Many sunk and drowned. The rowers watched Paramon, and they waited for him to appear in confidence. But he stood with a face of stone, all of it featureless, not a smile, nor a frown. They rowed onward, and the sailors screamed for the gods. They prayed to the Prophet. Paramon hid from their eyes, and he stood tall, even as the boat's bow shattered.
Air launched the boat into the air, and more people were swept overboard. They screamed his name to him. He yelled toward them and he ran out from the threshold. Over to them, he ran. He reached out both arms, but the ocean grabbed them into the water.
The boat tilted and the rowers climbed up the boat. Paramon walked to them.
They held onto the sides and yelled threats at him. But Paramon couldn't hear them over the storm. They clambered over the fallen mast and held their broken oars.
"Paramon!", they yelled, "Give us your boat, and we'll spare your life!"
"Never!", Paramon shouted back, "I'll never leave my post, life or death!"
"Paramon!", Sopris shouted to him, "They'll spare your life just as they've spared mine!"
"Sopris, with the mutineers!? Come back, join me and save the journey and the boat!", Paramon shouted
The crew advanced toward him with Sopris behind them. They stormed his cabin, and they knocked him into the sea. He waded in the water, and Paramon swam away from the twister. His sandals sank into the water. Paramon dipped his head into the water. His hands paddled forward, and he collided with an obstacle.
A boat floated above him, and he held onto the wood. He gripped it and he hauled himself onto the boat. His hair dripped with water. The smell of fish and salt rose in the air. The wind spun the boat, and he lay on the floor. Rough splinters poked into his back, and the unfamiliar smells nauseated him. The boat swayed in the waves and it tossed him along the walls of the boat. Overwhelmed, Paramon's eyes dulled and he fell asleep.
The sun came wreathed in orange flame. Paramon woke near a sailor. He stood up and gazed around the boat. Planks and rope, they moved with the ocean. Paramon looked at the sailor. Two planks of wood lay in a cross.
"I'll paddle", Paramon bent down.
"Where'll we go then?", the sailor asked.
"Forward, to search for land."
"Not Wailen?"
"Why Wailen? We'll continue on Quallous's orders."
"They'll never know", the sailor said, "Let's sail back. Quallous's mission has killed all of these sailors. We won't be next when we sail back."
"Quallous's mission has, I suppose, done this. But we should go forward. If not, then the journey will turn into a waste."
"It'll turn into a waste anyway. Let's sail back. Why waste our lives for a warlord? The progress we make will only pain us."
"Not for Quallous, we should move forward for discovery."
"Let's move backwards for the sailors."
"It'll all be a useless journey if we go back."
"I'd rather go back than face death."
"One more day. If we don't find land by then, we go back.
The sailor sat in thought for a moment. With a nod, he talked.
"I'd go"
"A day of sailing. We go forward."
Paramon paddled forward. The boat moved with little speed. It skimmed the water. Waves of white pushed them further into the ocean. The water hissed as it curled onto their boat. For discovery, not Quallous, they sailed. Wailen shrank as they moved into blue and gold. Salted fish and bread, they ate, and then they rested at night.
The next day, Paramon and the sailor paddled into the ocean. Clear of clouds, the sky shone blue onto the water. The ocean turned calm. But as they ate, the boat collided. The boat quivered. Paramon stopped paddling. With a shout, the sailor climbed on the bow to look. Land greeted him with a cone of sand.
"One day, and we've found land", Paramon paddled backward.
"We go forward", the sailor lay back, "And we continue."
Paramon paddled forward for the rest of the day. At night, sleep overtook them and the ocean paddled the boat for them.
Dawn filled the air with the fragrance of the ocean. The smell of drowned sailors and nibbling fish. Paramon took up the oars and he paddled. Another stroke curved its way around the boat, moving it forward, and the boat dipped under as Paramon moved both paddles.
Overhead, it began to rain. Puddles streamed out from the sides and onto the floor. The boat dipped lower into the water and then creaked. Paramon paddled forward, the boat stood still. Paramon dipped the paddle into the water, then he heaved the paddle backwards.
"Let me help, must be a... ", the sailor dived into the water. Droplets deflected against the boat.
He heard a rapping sound from underneath the boat. His fists knocked back. Then the sailor's head erupted onto the surface. His hands grabbed out to Paramon. He let out a hand and the sailor clambered onto the boat. The sailor stood slick with water, and wet from both sides.
"Scales and scales shining everywhere. These glitter and sparkle with the sheen of silver and diamond."
"The Abysm slithers here with heads aplenty. We'll wait when the tide goes up, and when the rain dries out."
"The Abysm!? We're near the Abyss, we've sailed into the Abyss.... "
"Sit down, sit down. We'll wait until this rain dries away."
"The rain? But the Abyss, and with those scales, and scales..."
"Sit down, the Abysm never wakes. It'll never wake up. The Prophet has said himself."
"The Abyss! Let's get out of here, and back to Wailen. I've waited long enough, and now I face death with its sharp eyes."
"Rest, and sit. We should rest for now. Let our worries drown in the ocean."
"We can sail back! Let's sail away from the Abyss. Let's sail away from everything! Let's go home."
"We're stuck for today, and Quallous waits for progress."
"Quallous waits for nobody! He won't know about the wreck. He won't know about us. He won't know about anything. Let's go sail away. Let's go home. Let's go sit near a flame and rest."
"We'll have no fire if Quallous sees only us and knows about this. We should stay, then sail forward."
"Let's go back! It'll be a useless journey when we die."
"No, we should never go back."
"I can get this boat back myself!", the sailor picked up a paddle. With a struggling push, he set the boat loose.
"No! Stop the paddling!"
"I'm saving us from death!"
"Stop the paddling! Stop the paddling! If you don't...", Paramon picks up the paddle. A push sent the boat sailing backward, "If you don't-!"
"What happens when I don't? Quallous, dishonor, so much. It doesn't matter! It won't matter when we die!"
"Stop the paddling! Stop the paddling... ."
"We need to go back! We need to paddle back!"
The boat spun and turned as the rain glimmered beneath the clouds.
"Stop the paddling...Please, please stop the paddling...Stop the paddling... Please, please stop the paddling..."
The waves raged once more, and Paramon's body slammed against the boat.
"We need to go! We need to go home! We need the flames of fire. We need the comfort of home! ", the sailor shouted, "Let's paddle back. Let's paddle onto shore! Let's paddle back!"
"Stop!", Paramon managed to shout. But another wave swept over the boat. His paddle flew away with it, "Stop..."
A light shielded Paramon's eyes. It shielded him from the horrors of the storm. It shielded him and led him into warmth. The sound of waves and yelling faded away. Light everywhere, twisting, moving, all blurs of white. The sound of pulsing, like the beat of a heart.
Outside, the Abysm moved with the ocean. Out of its gaping mouth, a creature swam. It erupted into the clouds and the boat shuddered. The sailor continued to brave the waves, and he paddled as a storm funneled into the world.
"We need to go back! We need to go back", the sailor continued to shout, "We need to go back! We need to go back!"
The winds seized the sailor and Paramon into the air. It launched the boat into the water, and it destroyed Paramon's paddle against two waves. Water fell onto the boat while the sailor sailed.
Paramon awoke from his slumber. The light had gone. He lay underneath a myriad of blue and white. Foam swirled around the boat. Water dumped itself upon them. Waves built up in height and carried the boat back to Wailen.
"The sailor....", Paramon saw the world through rotating eyes. His feet grappled onto the boat. Paramon tumbled onto the side of the boat.
A light came from the waves. A column of red and blue. Paramon lay and watched.
It swam to them, and the sailor tried to paddle away. But it launched itself out of the waves. A glowing serpent met his gaze. A winding set of scales met on its head.
The waves covered the serpent while the sailor cursed at the sea. Paramon heard a splintering noise. His hands gripped the boat tightly, and he turned his back against the ocean.
Another wave poured itself onto them and hit the side of the boat. A glow illuminated the boat. A scream came from the boat, but the storm drowned it out.
Paramon closed his eyes in the darkness of the boat. Sleep overtook him, and night fell early upon him.
Dawn bloomed with orange and red. It unveiled petals of light onto the boat. Paramon woke from his dreams. The boat sailed with the waves, and nowhere could the sailor be seen. From above, the sun glittered down onto the ocean.
Paramon scrambled for water and food, but nothing lay in the boat except for him. He sailed alone in the ocean. On the waves of blue, over the piscine waters, over a world of water.
Paramon lay in the boat, and he slept.
When Paramon awoke from his slumber, he found two islands. Two humps of sand that each met in cusps. Around him, winds of sand blew to him and the boat. He cleaned himself with water, and then the boat set off again.
In the afternoon, Paramon's throat coughed dust out into the air. The seawater stood glimmering near him, and he drank from its infinite supply.
In the evening, Paramon drank more and more seawater. Thirstier and thirstier, he'd become, and a bottomless thirst filled him. He drank until
When he slept, his thirst and hunger went away. But when he woke, both hunger and thirst tore at him. He drank more and more until he couldn't drink, but his thirst grew. It raged inside of him with flames of blue tearing at his stomach. When he slept, his pain faded away. Protennessen healed his wounds and sewed them up with airy threads. Sometimes, his eyes grew misty and his mind fogged with shapes, colors, things! They were clear and sharp images across his mind that he wished for. Averan food in platters and sweet water. But a land only in his head. For he saw the ocean extending forever and none else. With each passing second, his eyes filled with lights. Colorful streaks that remained across his mind. A breath would escape from his lips, and he would sigh. Then, his head leaned back and his hands relaxed themselves.
When his mind could bear it no further, his eyes finally shut and his mouth closed. The water carried him forward and Protennessen sent waves. Long and tall, as they swept the boat back to Wailen.
One morning, after ten days, his eyes caught a ship. A gigantic vessel creaking with people and going to his boat. It covered him with a shadow, but his hands lifted him up. Paramon croaked for help. His hands waved, and the boat stopped.
The Men of Deer pulled him up, and got him on board. They fed him strips of meat fried in furnaces. Then, they gave him river water. He lay on a bed for days while he coughed smoke and healed himself. When he could stand, he walked to them. His lungs cleared themselves of ocean water, and he breathed in ocean mist. The men of deer and Laphanists crowded around maps and talked.
When he cleared his ears, he heard of waging a war against Quallous and Wailen. His head nodded, and he looked at Wailen and sneering Quallous. Smoke rose from its towns and cities with people. None of them were standing near the shore. They had abandoned the journey, and gone back to their towns and homes. He wept angry tears, but wiped them away and walked to the men of deer and Laphanists."
After that, they fell asleep while David lay looking at the stars. They shone in dull light, still as pretty, like glittering pentas. They crowded around each other shining in their own ways. But stars, not flowers... He saw each of them, lonely little stars... Each by themselves traveling and traveling, forced to travel around Wailen. He'd traveled, without meaning in his life, without a purpose. He'd traveled away from villages, away from everything... Away from the plague, away from the men of deer, trying to seek purpose, trying to seek meaning... There was no Prophet back then, only Plague, and Plague... With the eternal ocean surrounding them, nobody near him... There was nobody... Nobody.... Nobody in life... Nobody knew... knew the meaning....
The wind created whirlwinds of leaves, and carried them to ditches and ponds. The fire dimmed, and he let the ashes fall.... Red turned to orange...
If they'd known, then Darrell... Always sulking... Always angry... With his tone... What about Darrell? ... What about Darrell? Maybe.. He should accompany Darrell home... Believe him... Try... Yes.... Yes... He could try.... Try... Try.... Try... Try.... David sighed.... Stars faded, twinkling, but went away.
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