After so long without writing due to helping Spathian with his research, I finally returned to this journal.
Think about Spathian…
I am still slightly annoyed he did not come to see me before departure.
Though perhaps “annoyed” is unfair.
From what I understand, Master Roderick himself forbade him from joining this voyage.
I still do not fully understand why.
Part of me suspects even Spathian is incapable of arguing against his father once he becomes serious.
Which honestly feels stranger than everything beneath Yggdra.
Still.
I would have liked to say goodbye properly.
Even if he probably would have tried to hand me another cursed spoon invention moments before departure.
Perhaps especially because of that.
Now it is only me and Ryn aboard this caravel crossing the sea toward Isla De La Luna.
No caravan crew.
No noise.
Only waves.
And blue.
Too much blue.
The ocean is blue.
The sky is blue.
The reflections are blue.
Even the damned light feels blue somehow.
At this point I am beginning to believe the color itself was created specifically to irritate me.
I genuinely considered throwing my quill into the sea earlier simply so the ocean might finally become black instead.
Thankfully I remain a patient person.
Barely.
The sea sickness has not helped my mood either.
I now understand why sailors slowly lose their minds.
There is simply too much water.
Too much horizon.
Too much endlessness.
And somehow the ship never truly stops moving.
Even while sleeping I still feel the floor swaying beneath me.
Ryn has also been acting strangely lately.
Tense.
Easy to startle.
Which is unusual.
Even in the Whispering Underpass she remained calmer than most people.
Even before The First Veil she somehow maintained composure despite visibly suffering through that negotiation.
But now?
Sometimes she stares toward the sea too long before suddenly realizing she drifted somewhere inside her own thoughts.
Other times she flinches when I speak unexpectedly.
Perhaps she also suffers from the sea.
Though unlike me, her response appears to be becoming increasingly strange instead of increasingly hateful toward colors.
Honestly, I think my method is healthier.
We are getting closer to home now.
And strangely enough…
I am beginning to feel reluctant.
Not afraid.
Just...
Uneasy.
The kind of feeling that comes before opening a door you have not touched in a very long time.
Though I am grateful Ryn is accompanying me.
Oddly enough, she seems both excited and terrified about arriving.
Which makes no sense.
My home is merely a small island far from proper routes.
There are no grand cities there.
No sacred sanctums.
No hidden ancient civilizations.
No beautiful women capable of rewriting your sense of self with a smile.
There is barely even a market.
And somehow that thought alone has already made me miss snacks.
I had not realized how accustomed I became to simply buying food whenever I wanted during this journey.
Soon I will return to a place where cravings become memories instead of purchases.
A horrifying realization, honestly.
Perhaps that is the true hardship of returning home after seeing the world.
Not the distance.
Not the change.
But the sudden understanding that nowhere else sells candied almonds at midnight.
Komentar
Posting Komentar