[PK?] Lowering the Sails

[joshun_ 200]

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Aren struggled, his arms flailing wildly as his natural senses kicked in- he was content on dying, but he certainly still wanted to live. As the sloop sank, Aren felt the beads of sweat roll down his face, as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest. It had stopped raining, but it was too late for the ship, everything was sinking, and so was Aren. He needed to do something, fast. As he struggled for naught, he felt his neck lower into the water as the icy cold depths caressed his chin, calling him deeper. As much as he fought, he was dead weight, and when he ran out of energy, he would sink. So he gave up.

 

Aren slowly cascaded down to the depths of the ocean, following his ship, he was unaware of his crew’s status, but knowing that they were not suffering as he was made him content. He was fully submerged in the water, and scanning his surroundings calmly. There were barrels floating up, along with lightweight wood, but that wouldn’t do much for him, he was too far out to be saved by anyone, so all he could really do was lament.

 

He couldn’t raise a family of his own, he couldn’t become a knight, he couldn’t become a person who could protect others like the person who inspired him to be a knight in the first place. Aren frowned somewhat as the abundance of oxygen suddenly ran out. His heart began to beat faster, despite it not doing anything. Aren felt his eyes flutter, everything was turning black, everything was becoming cold. Aren lost consciousness, and soon- his life. His heart no longer beat in his chest. Months later, something could be reported washed up on the shore in the outskirts of Norland. It was a light-blue figure that was sleeping.

 

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Aren felt his eyes aflutter as he awoke face first in the soft sand of the beach. He lifted himself up off of the ground and sat down, looking at the ocean beyond. “This is the Seven Skies?” He silently thought to himself, as he looked to his right, then to his left. He could have sworn that he drowned- this definitely was not how it was described in the Church. Nonetheless, Aren assumed that he somehow lucked out, and some mermaid of sorts brought him ashore. He didn’t have any bile or any water he coughed up, which he thought was strange, but did not look much into it. As he looked around, he saw two fishermen relaxed beneath a tree with their lines cast into the water that he was washed up from. He yelled to them, but they didn’t respond. Strange. He cupped his hands around his mouth and tried once more- but once again for naught.

 

Frustrated, he walked towards them, walking up the short, sandy hill from where he came and to the left of the fishermen. “Excuse me, do y’know where we are?” He would ask them. Alas, no sounds were produced, and the fishermen looked forward. Aren waved his hand in front of the stout fisherman, which caused a response. The stout fisherman looked over to Aren, and a streak of shock ran across his face, he was speechless. Aren cocked his head somewhat, not very sure of what this man had to fear, the stout fisherman scooted back towards his partner, until his back touched his arm, in which the other fisherman turned his head towards the two. Meeting Aren’s gaze, he felt a shiver down his spine, and together, it didn’t take long for them to make off. “Ah well fock vy too then.” Aren would scoff, shaking his head in frustration as he made his way to the closest, well, anything. 

 

 

 

Little did Aren know, he got the chance he so desired when he died. This is his second chance at life. The hoisted sails were now lowered once more.