By: Bryant R. Haake, Honors College, Presidential Honors Student, English Major
Wisdom Cove was set into the mouth of a huge cave, the docks jutting out from it like snaggleteeth, ships wedged between like bits of left-behind food. There were three levels to the town as Seraph explained: the Docks, the Town, and the Hightides. The Docks were fair self-explanatory, being the lowest section on level with the port. Fishermen, the harbourmaster, and sailors of all kinds lived in the little shacks along the water’s edge. The tide was low at the moment, roughly 15 feet below the highest of the docks, which had allowed them easy access to the town.
While in this section of the town, they had to quickly stop by the harbourmaster’s office in order to pay their dues. Crimson went in alone and was back out within five minutes. Jacob knew from experience that it usually took Captain Vexx at least twenty minutes to gather their papers and pay the fees, and Crimson came out with no papers. Jacob decided not to ask questions.
They quickly entered into the next area of town, which Seraph just called the Town, by taking a set of stone stairs carved into the cave wall itself. It was the largest of the three levels. Driftwood houses lined the walls of the cave in a horseshoe formation, leaving plenty of space in the inner section of the horseshoe to walk, for kids to play, and for the numerous stands selling everything from clothes to trinkets to weaponry to books.
In the middle of the horseshoe was a split staircase leading to the final area. Seraph stopped right before the stairs and led them into the largest of the buildings, a homely wooden structure with two floors. The sign outside read The Salty Seahorse Inn & Pub.
“This is where I’m staying,” Seraph explained, “and where I expect you three will probably want to stay, as well, assuming you’re not just going to run off to the next adventure immediately.”
Jacob wrung out his still-soaked shirt and glanced down at his ruined pants and shoes.
“Aye, I think we’ll stay here a day or two.”
The inside was warmly lit by dimmed electric lights, an exposed bulb visible over each of the four sides, and a simple candle chandelier in the middle of the room. The tables of the dining area surrounded the middle of the floor, which itself was left empty. It dipped a little down from the rest of the floor, making it uneven, as if they were waiting to fill it with water and let the town’s kids splash around in a non-dangerous body of water.
There were very few people actually in the pub area at this point, unsurprising since, despite the clouds blotting out the daylight, it was technically the middle of the day. The barkeep—a pale woman, short in stature—stood behind the counter, checking each barrel of liquid to make sure it was ready for when the work day ended and people would begin to flood in. Two of the pub’s inhabitants looked like they might be workers, taking a break while waiting for people to show. The last was an older man, passed out behind a large tankard filled with a murky, frothy brown liquid.
Seraph strolled up to the lady and tossed a few carp and coral onto the counter. The coins clinked against a glass mug, and the lady turned back from her refills.
“Ah, if it ain’t the protector of our town,” she said with a mix of sarcasm and genuine amazement. “What’s can I’s do fer ye?”
“Two rooms for the lovely folk here, my good lady,” he replied with a bow of his head. “If I remember the prices correctly, this should be more than enough, right?”
The lady inspected the coins for a moment before nodding. “Aye, that’ll get ‘em two rooms fer up to two days. Ralphio!” she shouted over at the table with the employees. A younger boy looked up. “Show ‘ese nice folks to ‘ere rooms, aye?”
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Trent.”
The lady turned back to Seraph. “I’ll guess you’ll be inviting them all to happy hour tonight?”
“Why of course, madam! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She nodded and they followed the boy to their rooms and watched as he lackadaisically bounced back to his resting spot. Seraph slipped the boy a couple coral and turned back to them.
“Well, I think that’s about enough excitement for me today!” he proclaimed. “Well, at least until happy hour tonight, of course. The music and dancing and drinks… it’s a different event every time, and really, you all must come if you are able. It is an experience to die for, if a little proletarian. Simple fun, as I like to say. Until then, I bid you all a fond rest from that stressful fight!”
He swept into his room and began sliding his mask off, shutting the door before Jacob could get a clear look at his face. Now that Seraph had mentioned it though, he was aching terribly in multiple different spots, and his back muscles were clenched in an uncomfortable knot.
“I think I’ll be taking his advice,” he yawned to Crimson and Georgiana. “Wake me up whenever we do something else.”
“Uh huh, you do that,” Crimson nodded. “Meanwhile, I’ll be renting a third room, ‘cause I’m guessing you two ain’t sleeping together, and I don’t share my space. Plus, Captain Leafy had a good little stash saved away, perfect for some less-than-frugal spending. Even had a few whales up in that lockbox of his.”
Jacob nodded and slipped into his room as Crimson walked back downstairs. He let the door close on its own, catching on Georgiana’s foot as she moved to intercept it.
“Hey, can we talk?” she asked.
“Of course,” Jacob said with another yawn. “What do you need?”
“I… just…” She faltered. “I know you’re tired, but do you think you’ll be going to the ‘happy hour’ event tonight? You know, the one Seraph mentioned? I thought it sounded… fun.”
Jacob smiled. “Aye, Georgie. If you want me there, I’ll be there. Just let me know when you’ll be going down. Though,” he glanced down at his attire, “I might need to buy some new clothes beforehand. Sea salt is uncomfortable when it soaks in too much.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Georgiana said quickly. “I’ll take care of it. You just get some rest. Bye, see you tonight!”
Before Jacob could protest, she was off, feet pounding down the stairs as she left for town. Jacob chuckled to himself and began to get ready for sleep. She’d probably pick out better clothes than he would, anyways, so why not let her have some fun with money. They’d found plenty of it in the ship’s coffers—not quite as much as the Forsaken of course, but money was still money.
The room was fairly standard as far as inns went. Jacob had only ever stayed in a few on the few occasions he’d been any further inland than a mile. Otherwise, he’d slept on the Forsaken. Even still, his vision blackened as soon as his head touched the pillow, the sounds of the storm and sea against the cavern’s entrance lulling him into slumber.
Jacob stood upon a beach.
No, not a beach—these were dunes of sand, rolling for as far as the eye could see. He was not the same as before; this time, he seemed to fully be himself, though ghostly in appearance. He tapped at the sand below him, finding his feet moved straight through it without dispersing any grains. He didn’t just look like a ghost—he was a ghost.
Momentary panic set in before he noticed who also stood there with him, ghostly appearance to match. The same black, wavy hair, lean physique, slime-covered arms…
“Hello, Ren,” Jacob said in his own voice.
“Hello, Jacobson,” Ren said with a kind-looking smile. “Do you know what is happening to us?”
“Not a clue. I figured you would know. You brought me to the last dream, right?”
“Ah, so this is a dream,” Ren nodded. “I figured as much, but I’ve spent so much time in your head or in complete isolation that I was not certain.” He inspected his hands for a moment, then floated a few feet from the sand. “Hmm… I suspect this may be a memory of mine, which would explain the ghostly appearances, but I do not recognise this place.”
Jacob opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as a ship sailed through Ren as if sailing on water. Sand bubbled beneath it, giving a wavy motion. It was then Jacob realized that the dunes he’d seen before were not dunes at all—they were waves, tossing and turning like the ocean.
“Where are we?” Jacob pondered in amazement.
The ship finished passing through Ren, who was looking quite annoyed. “I am not sure, Jacobson, but I suggest we follow that ship which so rudely interrupted us.”
He grabbed Jacob’s hand—apparently they could at least interact with each other—and began to fly after the ship. Despite the ship moving just as fast, if not faster, through the sand as it would through water, they were able to catch up quickly. Jacob figured out for himself how to fly as well and let go of Ren’s hand, following behind him closely.
The ship was larger than Jacob had ever expected. It was nearly as large as the entire town of Wisdom Cove, possibly even slightly larger, and wide enough for a full horse track to be laid longways across the ship’s deck. People in uniforms flitted all around the deck, more popping up from belowdecks and being replaced by those who went down in their stead.
The ship was unlike anything Jacob could have ever thought possible. Even the largest ships he’d ever seen were maybe only a fifth of this size, and this one moved faster and more fluidly than even the fastest of ships he’d seen.
Jacob followed Ren as he floated down to the deck, letting people pass through him as he watched. The deck was made up of two tiers: one for the people manning the ropes and intricate pulley systems, as well as a few people that seemed to almost be there only for sight-seeing, and an upper deck where a few of the more well-dressed crew stood. One man steered the ship along its course, using his massive arms to pull at an even more massive wheel. Ren made a noise that sounded almost like a growl, though with a far larger echo as if coming from a much, much larger creature.
Despite their incorporeal state, Ren shot at the man, aiming to grab him by the throat, but instead sailing straight through him. He tried again, and again, and again, before Jacob finally shouted at him.
“Ren, stop! I don’t know who that is, but you’re clearly not going to do anything to him by just flailing around.”
Ren glanced back at Jacob, then at the man, sighed, and floated down to stand next to the man. Jacob floated up next to him and stared from him to the man. The man was massive, almost as large as Crimson’s shark form, and had muscles to spare. His blonde hair whipped around in the wind, unfettered by the typical tricorn usually worn by ship captains. His eyes were purple and blue, reflecting the cloudless sky like mirrors. Jacob thought he should know him, and yet he’d never seen anyone remotely like him.
“Who-”
“Think of the memory I showed you before, Jacobson,” Ren said, averting his gaze from the man. “Look at his back, and tell me who this is.”
Jacob floated around the man’s back and gasped. Wrapped in brilliant purple and blue silks and tied across the man’s back was the silver trident from his past dream. It no longer sparked with lightning, but the design was unmistakable.
“I recognise this,” he retorted, “but that still doesn’t answer who this man is. I only saw him from a distance in that dream, and you never told me.”
“Foolish boy, don’t you know your history?” Ren snapped. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. “I apologize, that was out of character. For your information, this is no man; this is what you mortals call a god.”
Jacob sucked in a breath and looked back at the man. It made sense now, why he recognized him. He’d seen murals painted of a man like this in some of the seaside towns, or statues built in his honor by sailors wishing for calm seas.
“This is Neptune?” Jacob asked. “But, if that’s true, why’s he captaining a ship for… regular people?”
“You can call them mortals, Jacobson,” Ren replied. “It’s not a term of disgust as much as it is accuracy. You die; we do not. That makes you mortal, and us immortal. As for this piece of–” Ren made a noise that didn’t sound like language, “–the gods were not always so removed from mortals. There were many times in the past where they walked among your kind, giving gifts and soaking up praise. It was only after us monsters were trapped—some of us, anyways—that they all agreed to a vow of seclusion.”
“If you were trapped, how do you know that?”
“There are some things we can all sense,” Ren explained, slicking back his hair. “Gods are so unlike you mortals because we truly aren’t mortal—we have similarities, but we’re also superior in every conceivable way. That isn’t boasting, mind you, only fact. For instance, say Miss Crimson were to wrestle with Neptune–” he said the name with venom, “–then even with all her gifts from Kamohoalii, she would still lose on principle. My point here is that gods like us don’t have the same restrictions as you mortals.”
“Why do you keep saying–”
The boat lurched, nearly knocking Jacob off his feet. Ren stood without fail.
“This is a perfect example, Jacob. We are incorporeal, and yet you act as if you’re actually standing on the deck, almost as if on instinct.”
“You tried attacking someone in your own memory,” Jacob retorted.
“…point taken.”
They turned their attention to the front of the ship, finding a large sandstone pyramid at the bow. The ship didn’t look damaged from where they stood, but it was a bit too large to actually tell. The captain—Neptune—began calling for his crew to lower sails, tie the ship down, and get ready to board the pyramid. The whole world shifted, colors blurring into one before flashing in a burst of white light before darkening into a cavern.
Sandstone gleamed at the very top of the cavern, but was covered by stalactites and lithified chalcedony. Torchlight glimmered off the chipped bits of the cavern, giving the whole place a soft, ethereal violet glow. The crew led horses leading carts into the cavern. The carts each had a massive set of chains, each link as large as a man. Strange symbols covered each one, glowing softly in different colors whenever the torchlight hit them.
Behind everything, one final, massive cart toated along, carrying something large and bulbous. The cart was pulled by a single, gigantic horse, with hair like seaweed, eyes like burning coals, and teeth like barnacles. Jacob wanted to be surprised, but the entire memory had wiped him of any emotion he should be having now. Even the revelation of Kelpie being rode by Neptune wasn’t enough to shake that.
What was enough was the bulbous object. Ren had floated on up to the thing and put a hand to it, fury evident on his face. His hair was the same color as the creature’s skin.
The scene shifted again before Jacob could say anything. This time, Ren didn’t follow. The memory he appeared in was familiar as well, a recent event he’d experienced. Swords, spears, and guns flashed aboard Captain Leafy’s boat as tentacles flailed at each assailant. He knew what came next, but seemed unable to avert his eyes. A man lurched towards Georgiana, but fell limp with a sickening CRACK as Jacob whipped his bolo rope. The memory-him looked at his rope in shock. The whole scene began to turn red, blood covering everything, serpentine laughter with no source echoing before fading into black.
Jacob awoke with a cold start, sweat beading down his bare back. He’d somehow unconsciously summoned a tentacle, though this one was different from his usual tentacles. Rather than smooth and purple, this one was yellowish in color, and looked to have the texture of sand. Jacob panted and inspected the tentacle, feeling it with his other hand. It still felt like his normal tentacles, but was slightly bumpy in comparison.
A sudden knock at the door startled him, causing his tentacle to quickly sink back into his skin. He cursed and got up, putting on his still-damp shirt and opening the door. Georgiana stood there in new, much cleaner clothes, carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms.
“I talked to the innkeeper and she said happy hour would begin at– are you okay?” she interrupted herself, inspecting his shining face, still slick from his slumber. “Did you not sleep well? We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t–”
“I’m fine, Georgie,” Jacob hurriedly said, reaching for the clothes. “What were you saying?”
“Oh, uh… the da- happy hour,” she corrected furiously, “starts in an hour, so get ready.” She averted her eyes and ducked into her room, not giving Jacob the chance to say anything.
“That was… weird,” Jacob decided, turning back into his own room. He waited for a comment from Ren about what might be going on, but nothing came.
Jacob shrugged. If Ren was done with meddling in his personal life, even if only for the moment, then that was fine with him. He laid out the clothes on his bed and walked into the adjoining room, a small bath room with exposed piping and a faucet for water dangling over a simple wooden tub. He turned the knob and water began streaming out. He’d seen it before, but it was enticing to watch every time, like some wizard from a faraway land had transported himself into the room and given Jacob the blessing of instant, clean water.
Jacob climbed into the bath and instantly relaxed, allowing him time to think. Images of his… dream? Memory? Hallucination? He wasn’t sure what to call it, but flashes of his time within his own mind began to play through his head. Most of them were merely confusing, but that last one… Jacob shivered despite the warm water.
“Ren, did you see that last dream? I didn’t see you, but you’re in my head, so I figured you might be there.”
No answer.
“Ren?”
Jacob waited a little longer.
“Ren!” he nearly shouted.
Finally a voice spoke within his mind.
Hmmm? Oh, my apologies, Jacobson. Were you speaking to me?
“Are you… tired?”
What? Ren inquired drowsily, trying to sound normal. Of course not. I am a figment of your thoughts, physical flesh taken on a psionic form. Thoughts do not tire, and neither do gods.
“But you’re not a god,” Jacob retorted.
What? Stop speaking nonsense, Jacobson. Of course I am a god. What in the lands else would I be? I am the god of shipwrecks.
“No, you’re the monstrous person-if-ick-ation of shipwrecks.” Jacob recited the title Captain Vexx had tried to teach him before.
Ren didn’t respond. After a minute, as Jacob sunk down into the water, he could hear soft, low snoring, almost like the purr of a cat mixed with the growl of a basilisk. Ren had been tired, and now he was asleep.
Jacob pulled himself from the tub and dried and redressed himself. The clothes Georgiana had gotten for him were a near-perfect fit, save for a few areas which were slightly tighter than he’d prefer. They were much nicer than what he’d been wearing before, as well. On the ship, he’d finally been able to trade his ruined nice clothes from the dinner to something a bit more fitting of a sailor; as it had turned out, he was only slightly smaller than the previous captain had been.
Even still, Georgiana’s pick was still much nicer than Leafy’s. He now wore a combination of darker shades: a purple overcoat with silver buttons, a white blouse, dark blue pantaloons made from some sort of imported material, black shoes with silver buckles, a purple bandana so dark it was nearly black. Some of the crew on the Forsaken had used their bandanas to completely hide their hair, but similarly to Heilyn, he’d always preferred to keep it only around his forehead.
With ten minutes to spare, he walked out from his room to meet a pacing Georgiana. She’d dressed herself in lighter blues, but had streaks of darker colors around her waist, shoes, and wrists, and had even picked out her own bandana to tie her corded hair back into a single queue, though the green-and-red fabric clashes with the rest of her outfit. Jacob didn’t notice that of course, blind to the common collections of colors used by land-locked folk.
Georgiana looked up and stopped pacing, giving Jacob a strained smile.
“You look nice,” he said. “Is something wrong though? You look… stressed?”
Her smile faltered, but picked up again quickly, seemingly genuine this time.
“No, I’m fine. I was just… nothing. Are you ready?” She grabbed his arm and began leading him downstairs. “I haven’t looked yet, but I saw a band setting up earlier. They had a fiddle, accordion, pipes, some sort of other stringed instrument—I think this will be fun!”
“The food smells good already,” Jacob noted as they entered the main room.
The band looked to be ready to play at any second, and people were already milling about with drinks and food in hand. The crowd was smaller than Jacob had expected, though it was still a good turnout considering the size of the establishment. One of the main things he noted was a lack of children.
“Welcome, friends!” Seraph said as he clapped a hand on their shoulders, startling both of them. “Very glad you could join us, overjoyed, in fact! Welcome to this night’s happy hour event; though, I will note that ‘happy hour’ is not a very apt term for this, since we often last into the night. This week’s event is a couple’s night, so I hope you’ve both found a partner!”
Jacob turned red and tried to meet Georgiana’s eyes. She, too, was red—redder than he was—and had averted her gaze. She forced herself to look down at him and smiled sheepishly.
“Surprise,” she laughed uneasily. “Would you care to dance, Jacob?”