South Wind On The Ocean
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
The sun set, and the stars rose in a clear sky. We were south of New York and well on our way to Europe. Captain Smith had decided that this would be best for my health. I was weak from illness but not too much worse. He thought I should have a chance to see what it was like out there.
“You won’t have long to get used to things,” he said. “We’ll arrive off Brest at dawn tomorrow.”
“Aye aye sir,” I muttered and tried to smile.
My coughs grew weaker as the sun went down; I’d stopped being able to breathe through them, which meant they hurt less, but I could feel the coldness of each breath now, the way you know when your skin is getting numb because the blood has been drained away. It was an unpleasant feeling and I knew it would only get worse until it became impossible for me to go on living.
I looked down over the side at the water. It was calm enough today that I could see the sand below. There were small waves rolling in against the ship’s wake, and the moonlight showed me the shape of a dark figure walking on the bottom. A shark? Or maybe something even more dangerous.
That night Captain Smith ordered us to bed early with orders not to talk or make noise. The rest of the men were asleep already but the officers kept going around the deck, passing out blankets to each man who wanted one. Most of them wrapped them around themselves and fell quickly to sleep. Only a few stood to watch throughout the night, keeping a wary eye open for French ships. They didn’t see anything.
As we sailed past Cape Hatteras I felt myself growing stronger. I could move my arm, and the pain that came from it was duller than before. My head felt clearer as well.
There were two new faces in the cabin. One was the young doctor who had tended me the day before; the other was a short, fat man with a big belly and thick arms. He had an air about him that made me think he might be some kind of merchant seaman. Maybe he was just another passenger, but I couldn’t help thinking that he must be a smuggler or pirate.
Captain Smith asked them both to come forward while the rest of us slept, then told them that I’d had a fever since I woke up and hadn’t really woken up yet.
“But it seems to have broken now. I believe I am ready to return to duty,” I added and forced myself to look them in the face as if I felt fine.
The doctor examined my chest and found nothing wrong, though he did tell Captain Smith I ought to take care of it as soon as possible.
“What does this mean?” I asked him once he’d left.
“It means that you aren’t contagious,” the doctor said. “Though I would advise you to remain under medical care.”
“And when will that be?” I asked. I wanted to know so badly what was happening that I almost didn’t notice that he was talking about leaving me alone again.
He hesitated, then said, “If all goes well… I expect you’ll recover fully in four days.”
In four days, I thought, we would arrive off the coast of France and then I would be sent back to prison!
I began to shake uncontrollably. My body convulsed, sending spasms through my limbs and causing my head to loll. It felt like someone had grabbed hold of me and was squeezing hard with a pair of iron fingers.
“What is it?” Captain Smith asked, leaning closer. He seemed scared.
I managed to say, “I don’t… want to die…”
Then I collapsed into a heap. Captain Smith called the doctor back to tend me, but by the time he returned I was dead.
I had been lying on the bunk when it happened, and I suppose that’s why I never saw the black shadow creeping across the room. It took the form of a tall woman in a black dress, carrying a scythe. She moved silently toward my sleeping form, then reached out and pressed the point of her scythe against my chest.
There was a flash of light, a great explosion of sound, and then everything went dark.
When I awoke, I knew instantly that I wasn’t at home anymore. It was a different place entirely, and it was strange seeing the sea from my bed instead of the land. When I opened my eyes I was met with a bright blue sky and a view of white sand stretching away as far as I could see.
The sand was warm beneath my bare feet, and the air carried the scent of pine trees. It wasn’t exactly the sort of paradise I had imagined, but at least it was something different than the damp dungeon I’d been spending my last few days in.
I sat up and stretched, feeling surprisingly good after waking up. The fever I’d had was mostly gone by the time I died and now there was only a slight headache remaining. My stomach felt much better as well.
“Good morning, Mr. Fletcher,” a voice said to my right. I turned and saw a girl sitting on the edge of my bed. Her hair was long and red, pulled back into a ponytail and held together with a simple band. She had freckles sprinkled across her pale cheeks, and she wore a white gown that clung to every curve of her body.
I realized then that my hands and feet were still tied, but I supposed they would stay that way until I got out of there.
“Who are you?” I asked, struggling against my restraints.
She giggled, and for a moment I felt as if I’d just seen my reflection in a mirror. Then the sensation passed, and I was left with only my own face looking back at me.
“Do you really want to play games?” she said. “You’re in no condition to win!”
I glared at her with narrowed eyes and clenched my teeth. There was something familiar about that giggle—I knew it! She looked like my wife! But how could that be? I had already lost her!
“Let me go,” I said, and tried to move toward her. “Please! If you let me—”
My words were cut off by a scream. Someone else came rushing into the room—a boy, this one wearing trousers and a jacket over his shirt. He was followed by another man I didn’t recognize. Both of them seemed frantic as they rushed around the room looking for me, but their eyes settled on me quickly.
“Here!” the boy shouted, waving a fist above his head.
They both rushed at me, but the girl stopped them short. “Don’t hurt him too much,” she said. “He looks like he’s just had a bad dream.”
They stared at her, confused, before turning their attention to me instead. They glanced over my wounds, then looked up at me in confusion.
“He doesn’t look sick to me,” the boy muttered.
The man nodded in agreement, saying, “Well, whatever. You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”
Then he grabbed the rope binding my wrists behind my back and snapped it apart. “Get dressed,” he said, pointing to a door on my right. “We’ve got some things to discuss.”
***
“So,” he said as we made our way down a narrow path between rows of trees, “what do you think of your new body?”
It was an odd question to ask—I hadn’t really given it a lot of thought yet. I was used to being a little shorter, a little heavier, a little less hairy. This body was a strange one though, and not one that I felt quite comfortable in. I kept looking down at myself, wondering if all the hair on my arms and legs was simply growing more rapidly than normal or if this was what they actually looked like.
“This is a new body?” I asked.
“Well, not so new,” he admitted. “But it has been improved upon in many ways.”
“How?”
“Well, your eyes are now sharper than ever,” the man explained, gesturing to my vision. “And your muscles have increased substantially—it won’t be hard to lift any sort of object you may need to, whether it be furniture or even your friends.”
I looked at the man’s hands to confirm these claims and found that I couldn’t feel them shaking the same as when I’d woken up. In fact, he moved as smoothly as though he were gliding on ice rather than walking on dirt.
“Are you… Are you stronger than me?” I asked.
He laughed heartily, slapping a hand to his shoulder. “Not by a long shot, my friend! And you shouldn’t compare yourself to anyone; you’ll only be setting yourself up for disappointment. You should focus on being who you want to be, and not worrying about everyone else.”
“That’s sound advice,” I told him. “Thank you for that.”
“No problem,” the man replied with a nod. “Now, there are just a few things I wanted to get straight before we start this mission. For example, you will call me ‘Master.'”
I paused, staring at the ground in thought. “Why?”
“Because that is my name,” he explained.
“Oh,” I said. “Yes, fine. Call me Mr. Fletcher.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Mr. Fletcher, you will refer to your new allies as ‘assistants.’ The reason for this is that while we may be working together on a specific task, they will still remain loyal to me. As such, you must always remember that you are the superior one, and act accordingly.”
“Understood.” I paused again, considering his orders. “What about my wife and son?”
“You can find them here,” he said, stopping at top of a hill. We were overlooking a small village, the people busy at work tending fields.
I scanned the area but saw nothing that remotely resembled a person resembling my family.
“Is she dead?” I asked suddenly.
“She is alive, yes,” he assured me. “But she remains in another world. She is not here. Do not worry, though: she and your child will join us soon enough.”
“When did this happen? How long ago was it?”
The man shook his head, smiling. “There is no point in time that separates us from the other side. Time is a concept that we cannot fully grasp because we are so limited here, but on the other side everything happens simultaneously; it is almost like we never die. So, your wife and son would only be moments away.”
I frowned, unsure how I felt about that. After all, I didn’t know anything about my wife and son—where they came from, what their names were, or if we got along well. If I were them, I wouldn’t want to see my dad get killed by an evil sorcerer.
I could only imagine the pain they might feel watching their father die before they even knew him. It wasn’t a happy prospect and not something I relished. Still, I figured I needed to be careful not to show my emotions too much out in public, lest someone mistake me for being weak. I decided to keep my feelings to myself.
“Do you think my son knows who I am?” I wondered aloud.
“He certainly does,” the man responded confidently. “After all, your family is already acquainted with my associates.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “How curious! They’re the ones that helped me bring you back. You will meet them later.”
“Okay,” I agreed, trying to hide my surprise. “So, where do we go from here?”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” the man replied with a shrug, turning around to face me. Then he took off toward the village ahead.
“Wait!” I cried out after him, jumping to follow. “Where are you going?”
He paused mid-stride, looking back over his shoulder to stare at me. He cocked his head slightly to one side, his lips pursed as he considered me.
“To meet your associates,” he finally answered.
My heart thudded loudly in my chest. What kind of associates? Did I have to fight them, too? Or maybe it was the opposite—did I have to help them?
“Associates?” I asked hesitantly.
“Indeed,” he nodded. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
A shiver crept down my spine as I tried to imagine what they could be like. Who were these people? What were they capable of? My thoughts raced at a frantic pace as I began to panic, but my guide just stood there with an amused expression on his face, clearly enjoying my distress.
I glanced at the villagers again—all seemed to be going well. They worked together effortlessly in their respective fields without ever colliding with each other. There was an easy flow to their actions that I found fascinating. Were these the people my companion wanted me to talk with?
As if reading my mind, the man said, “We shall begin our journey together,” then turned back around and resumed walking forward at a steady pace.
The End