I did not expect to resume writing again this quickly.
Which admittedly makes my previous “final journal entry” feel somewhat embarrassing in retrospect.
This morning, we finally arrived at Port Roderick.
My condition upon arrival could best be described as spiritually dismantled.
The ocean voyage nearly killed me.
I now hate the color blue with alarming sincerity.
Blue sky.
Blue sea.
Blue sailor uniforms.
At one point during the voyage, merely seeing a crew member wearing a blue coat made me feel an almost violent urge to throw objects directly into the ocean.
Possibly including the crew member.
Honestly, I believe this reaction was justified.
So when we finally reached Port Roderick this morning, I possessed only one remaining goal in life.
Return home immediately.
Preferably somewhere without oceans.
Or blue things.
The harbor was already busy when we arrived.
Dockworkers shouted across the piers while ropes creaked against wooden posts beneath the morning fog.
Waiting near the docks stood the Roderick family themselves.
Master Roderick.
Madam Roderick.
Ronan.
And several attendants behind them.
Part of me wondered whether they always greeted Ryn personally whenever she returned.
Though considering she is effectively the future of Roderick Street, perhaps this level of reception is normal.
Or perhaps they already knew we had survived something terrible.
Either way, I lacked the energy to think very deeply about it.
I stepped off the ship looking and feeling approximately half dead.
Then suddenly—
Footsteps thundered across the docks.
Followed immediately by a voice screaming loud enough to turn every head nearby.
“WIIIFEEEEE!! YOU ARE HOME!!”
Silence followed.
Not complete silence.
Port Roderick is physically incapable of becoming fully silent.
But every nearby person still looked toward the source instinctively.
Including me.
And when I saw him—
Tall.
Wild-haired.
Wearing an absurd navy-blue coat thankfully dark enough not to trigger immediate violence from me—
I realized something horrifying.
I was smiling.
Widely.
Without even noticing.
Behind me, three voices shouted simultaneously.
“WHAT?!”
Master Roderick.
Madam Roderick.
And Ronan.
All equally horrified.
Then before my brain fully processed the situation, I impulsively screamed back:
“HUUUBY!! I AM HOME!!”
And immediately began running toward Spathian like a complete lunatic.
Which unfortunately matched the exact energy with which he was already running toward me.
Behind us, I heard another collective:
“WHAAAT?!”
Somewhere nearby, Ryn was already pressing fingers against her temple.
Almost identically to Madam Roderick.
Spathian grabbed my wrist dramatically the moment we reached each other.
“We must flee before they interrogate you,” he declared loudly.
Then immediately dragged me away through the harbor while laughing like a criminal escaping divine judgment.
And somehow—
Without fully realizing it—
I laughed too.
Actually laughed.
The first genuine laughter since Yggdra.
We ran through the harbor together while every sane person nearby stared openly at us.
Dockworkers whispered.
Merchants paused conversations.
Several sailors looked deeply concerned.
And only now, while writing this entry, do I finally understand why none of Spathian’s madness ever truly feels threatening.
Why the ridiculous wife jokes somehow feel strangely comforting instead of uncomfortable.
Why all his chaos feels easy to follow.
It is because there is no hidden intention behind any of it.
No pressure.
No manipulation.
No expectation.
Only chaos.
Pure chaos.
And somehow I know with complete certainty that if I ever seriously asked him to stop…
He would stop immediately.
That realization feels oddly important somehow.
Eventually both of us became too exhausted to continue running.
Mostly because neither of us possesses the physical conditioning necessary for prolonged dramatic escapes.
After resting briefly beside a warehouse, we eventually made our way toward The Resistance.
Which I originally believed to be the headquarters of some secret underground organization.
Only to later discover it was merely Spathian’s personal workshop.
Honestly, the name still makes me laugh.
The Resistance.
As though he is personally waging war against reality itself through experimental spoon technology.
When we arrived, he immediately dragged me inside and began enthusiastically explaining every new invention developed since my departure toward Yggdra.
He spoke with such intensity one might assume the fate of civilization depended entirely upon spoon-related engineering breakthroughs.
At one point he handed me a strange curved metal object called a “Spoomerang.”
Apparently when thrown correctly, it returns to the person who threw it.
Even now, I still do not understand why this needed to exist.
Nor why he seemed so emotionally proud of it.
Afterward he continued speaking endlessly while moving around the workshop adjusting tools, sketching designs, and organizing increasingly suspicious mechanical parts.
But strangely…
He never once asked about Yggdra.
Not once.
Despite everything that happened.
Despite how obvious it must have been that something inside me had changed.
Eventually, after a long silence between explanations about aerodynamic spoon rotation, I finally asked:
“You don’t ask?”
Spathian did not look toward me.
He remained focused entirely on the spoon resting in his hands.
But then—
His expression softened slightly.
A very small smile.
Barely visible.
And from where I sat, I could only see the quiet outline of his profile beneath the workshop lantern light.
Then he shook his head gently.
“No,” he said softly.
“I won’t if you don’t want to talk about it.”
And for one very brief moment—
I could swear my heart stopped entirely.
The feeling lasted only seconds.
Yet somehow it lingered long enough for me to write all of this afterward.
Strangely enough…
I no longer feel particularly rushed to return home immediately.
Perhaps I will remain here a little longer after all.
The Spoonwright’s Den is ridiculous.
Spathian is ridiculous.
And helping him research increasingly questionable spoon-related inventions sounds surprisingly enjoyable right now.
I will continue writing again later.
But for now…
I suspect I shall be quite busy assisting Spathian with his spoons.
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