>>>~~~~<<<
The storm never seemed to end. Harsh waves slammed against the rocky shoreline while heavy rain pelted everything in sight. Derrick wondered if he’d ever see a blue sky again. His memories of sunny days had already begun to fade into dust. Who knows what else would follow? Regardless, he held up his trusty harpoon as he descended down the rocks to check the fishing net. That is, if it was still here in this torrent.
Thankfully, he would not go hungry today, as a modest cluster of fish had trapped themselves in his net. The aging man grabbed at his next meal and dragged the whole bunch back up to his home. Along the way, he couldn’t help but notice an odd sound rattling the net. Something that wasn’t a fish had also become trapped in the net. Afraid a loose rock had gotten tangled in the lot and was smashing up his next meal, he quickly dug into the net only to feel something soft and leathery.
“A book?” He muttered aloud.
\~_________~/
Derrick’s home was an odd place. At one point, it may have been a lighthouse, but it had collapsed long before Derrick was born. Someone else had rebuilt the remanents into a modestly sized one-floor home with a small loft. Whoever that was had fled maybe a year or so before Derrick arrived. At least, that was his best guess based on the upkeep of the place.
After shoving his catch into an icebox, Derrick took a moment to observe his new discovery. The leather-bound book was an unusual find among his daily catches. Empty glass bottles, old boots, and other junk were one thing—the kind of trash you’d expect to find at sea—but not such a well-preserved book.
Despite the cover being a little wet, the pages were barely soaked. At first, Derrick was mystified by how it wasn’t ruined, but then he realized the pages weren’t paper. They looked like paper, but a cursory touch confirmed they didn’t feel the same.
“The cover is unmarked, but the interior…a journal of some sort?” Derrick noted. Whoever it belonged to, they either hadn’t written down their name, or it was on one of the few pages that were lost. The first three or so pages were ripped or ruined by something that clearly wasn’t water. Out of curiosity, Derrick turned to the first legible page and began reading.
“August 12th: The first week has ended well,” it read. “Finds include: Three statuettes, seven gems of various sizes, two scrolls, and the first of many gold bars. The crew is satisfied with the findings.”
“An expedition journal, then?” Derrick theorized as he turned the page.
“August 19th: The second week has proven better than the first,” the next page continued. “Finds include: Four more statuettes, thirteen gems of incredible sizes, five scrolls, a half dozen gold bars, and the scepter from one of the inner circle. The scepter is missing the large gem meant to be set into the head, but Simmons is looking for it now. It did not fall far.”
“Quite the successful journey to have found so much in only two weeks,” Derrick commented. “Yet, since the journal ended up in the sea, I assume something must have gone wrong eventually.”
“August 26th: The third week has been riddled with misfortune,” the journal revealed. “Simmons never returned, and neither did Joseph when he went looking for him a day later. Spoils have been sparse and not worth mentioning, and in addition, the scepter and four gems have gone missing. There is a traitor among us. But whether they have always been or have let greed get the better of them, I cannot say yet.”
“Alas, it seems I was right,” Derrick sighed as he turned the page.
“August 29th: Early report, we have found both men, but not alive,” was on the next page. “Strangely, in the position we found them, it appeared Joseph slayed Simmons by choking him to death. However, we have no evidence of what killed Joseph. Thankfully, it seems Simmons had initially succeeded in his mission and found the missing gem. The scepter is mine at last, but I must be wary. I had thought both men were loyal and trustworthy before, but now I cannot say what had come over them. I can only assume one gave into their greed and attacked the other, with Joseph as the winner, but who was the guilty party? And more importantly, what killed Joseph?”
A boom of thunder started Derrick from his reading. The storm had grown worse outside. The aging man sighed, put down the journal, and reinforced the barricades on his doors and windows. “I should get started on dinner, but one more entry, this has grown interesting.”
“September 2nd: The fourth week has ended without further incident, but no more discoveries. I believe it is time we left, I’ve gotten what I came for, and we have more than enough treasure to divide among the remaining crew. Only five of us remain, and I’m already sensing the rising tension. That traitor is still among us, and we all know it.”
“September 4th: Our attempts to leave have been stifled. We reached the natural harbor, but a terrible storm came in. Alexander was on the boat when the storm rushed in from nowhere, and he was still on there when it capsized moments later, along with half of our treasure. We have been forced to take shelter back inside the caves. One might hope that Alexander was the traitor and we’d have no further problems. Alas, I doubt we’d be so blessed. My only comfort now is this journal to collect my thoughts. Especially since our spare rations were on that boat. We only have enough to last to the end of the week, just barely.”
“September 5th: Blast it all! Scott was the traitor all along! He ran off with our remaining food and treasure in the night. Now, only three of us remain, with maybe a day or two before we are without hope. But it does not matter. I still have the scepter. He will know my wrath.”
“September 6th: Now we’ve lost Maximillion as well. He almost had the bastard Scott before the traitor knocked him into the sea. Even if the storm wasn’t so awful, I doubt he’d have lived, I only caught a glimpse of it, but something dragged him under the water. However, Scott will soon no longer be a problem. The scepter proved its power, and he’ll perish if he does not return to me.”
“September 7th: The traitor came crawling back. The curse worked, and now, within a day, he is but a husk of his former self. We will be able to eat for several more days as soon as he reveals his hiding place. I was also eager to send the backstabber into the deep myself, but we may require an extra pair of hands. It looks like the storm will subside soon, and then we can construct a new boat or hopefully find whatever vessels the inner circle had used to come here.”
“September 8th: I am a fool. Scott was not the traitor after all. He was just self-interested. He had only half the missing food and none of the treasure. I had never wanted to think this, but the real traitor was right beside me the whole time, feeding me lies and pushing me along. Derrick, you bastard, you may have taken the scepter, but you’ll never know how to use it!”
Derrick dropped the book as another crack of thunder shook his home. Hours passed, and he had never gotten started on dinner, and now he had lost his appetite. “It’s just a coincidence, right?”
“September 9th: I am the victor, for whatever it’s worth. I could not retrieve the scepter before Scott wasted away, but I managed to overpower Derrick. The fool waved the scepter like a toy but did not know what I did. I snatched the scepter from his hands and sent him hurdling into the ocean with its power. Alas, I do not know what spell I used upon him in my anger. I just wanted him to suffer. But that shall be my only comfort in these remaining days. Food shall soon run out, and I alone will not be able to return to the mainland. I could continue to collect my thoughts as I pass from this world, but what is the point? Maybe I shall hurl this journal into the sea. It was my first creation upon learning the inner circle’s secrets, and it should be more than capable of surviving. Maybe someone will find it and learn of our folly? As for the scepter, I shall keep it for myself. While its powers cannot save me, it is best they die with me. If I am lucky, I might learn to undo the storm before I perish. I’ve long since determined it was not a natural occurrence. It seems the inner circle got the last laugh after all…”
Derrick closed the journal, which contained no further entries. He tried to think back to the days when the sky was blue and the sun shined down on the world. Alas, those memories and everything else about his past had faded. He tried his best not to think about the last miserable hundred years he’d spent hiding from the storm in this home.
>>>~~~~<<<
Your mistakes can always come back to haunt you, it doesn't matter where or when.
Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.
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