Note from Librarian: "This was obtained while I was spending time in the Seeker's Bar in exchange for paying his tab. He never provided his name for the record. Validity of the overall story is unknown, given the nature of alcoholic drinks and sailors. I will not look further into the matter. A story is a story."
The cold of the Ocean is something no one ever gets used to. No small number of Seekers have been felled by it. In this place where there is no sun nor stars? That dark eternity sometimes seems to practically call out in a loving voice. Yet, as any decent Seeker will tell you, it’s a lie. There isn’t an escape from this place. There is no rest in death here. Yet, plenty still take it up. I didn’t really understand why for a while.
At the Docks you might see plenty of little lights off in the distance. All tied together like their own small floating village. You actually might find them off in the middle of nowhere, too. That’s just the nature of the place. Nowhere is anywhere usually, but sometimes it all happens to be somewhere. They usually are doing nothing of note and are doing nothing in a tired way. One too many calls of the void and you have to recover somehow. It was in one such place I learned why Seekers will accept that call, though.
There was this old man in one of those little villages. Wrinkled and grayed hair. Never learned how long he was a seeker. He was a foul looking fellow. Covered in grime and gunk while smelling almost worse than he looked. No matter how many awful things I see out there, I will always consider him the thing that shook me the most. For he was sitting there with his back to everyone, on his ships railing, and staring off into the dark.
Bound up in all the usual clothes we all are, but just staring. When I asked someone? They said he had floated over to them. He said nothing in response to them when they tried to talk to him. Entire time he didn't move. Only sat there. So, they figured he was in need of it and roped him in.
The man would get up occasionally and go down below deck. Then, some hours later? Right back onto that railing. This was all that old man would do. They couldn’t even tell if he was sleeping or anything. He had to be sleeping and eating somehow. Otherwise he’d be dead and be right back at the docks again.
So this continued on for what had to be months. People would come and go. Every single one would notice how off the man was. I asked if anyone had tried to take a look below deck. No one had. Generally, such things are considered taboo. I figured this was a special circumstance.
No one stopped me as I took a step onto the old man’s deck. I took that as a sign they were curious, too. The old fellow didn’t even turn around. The entire ship was not small enough for a singular person. Yet, he was the only one anyone had seen. There wasn’t even any technology or strange magic one can get from the Congregation. None of his lanterns were on either. The entire thing gave me a nasty feeling in my gut. Thinking on it now, I’m certain the rest of that village came to the same realization. No one had the stomach to confirm it.
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It isn’t uncommon for Seekers to form up crews together. Boat is all too happy to oblique such requests. Boat will happily give you a rowboat with a cannon on front and nothing else if you ask. Wouldn’t have been the first time only one man survived in a crew either. I had begun to wonder how long he had been floating out in the darkness. Without light? A lot more horrible things will come after you.
Any smart Seeker has plenty of food to last. Same with water. Hell, any smart Seeker will have far more water than he needs. If only to speed up his own death by dousing himself. Better to freeze or starve or anything else than drink from the Ocean. That thought stopped me as I stood at the stairs going down that’d lead into the ship. Then, I pushed onward.
Inside was the standard sort of cargo area. What hammocks were still attached at both ends were empty. Some had built up dust on them. What drove a deep sense of unease in me was the ice along the floors. Not the ice that forms from the waters of the Ocean. You can tell the difference. It freezes black. This was real ice. My sudden suspicions began to seem all the more likely.
Then it was confirmed when I looked in one of the water barrels. It was almost empty, but filled with that familiar dark liquid. The old man had been drinking water from the ocean to survive. One can do that, but no sane Seeker would ever tell you to. Anyone with half a brain knows that it’s not even water. There was only one solution.
I closed it and made haste right back up. One of the others asked what I'd found. When I told them, there was a silence that fell over everyone. The sort of quiet you only get when you sail alone and are surrounded only by the darkness.
No one stopped me as I walked over to that old man. When I put a hand on his shoulder? He didn’t even tense up. I got a good look at his blank face as he stared off. The man’s bloodshot eyes were wide and his pupils were small. His mouth hung open ever so slightly. I didn’t even see him blink as he kept staring at the abyss beyond the ships.
Then? I steel myself and shoved him forward. The splash seemed to echo far more than it should have. Not a sound nor move did he make as he sank. The Ocean took him in such a gentle way. There was a twisted peacefulness to it. Things don't sink in the water like oil. Slow and methodical. One of the others said that the Congregation would take care of him. It didn’t help ease me.
We quickly looted the ship and got the ropes off after that. No sense letting what little supplies were left go to waste. Someone found what was left of the crew. Turns out he wasn’t just drinking from the Ocean. I watched as the ship slipped under the water like the old man had. I decided to stay with the village for a while after that.
I haven’t yet met that old man anywhere. Usually you never meet up with anyone without it being on purpose. Though, Boat assured me once that he had made a full recovery and was out there. I just hope he learned his lesson. Every Seeker has drank from the Ocean once. There are no words to describe the taste of fear.