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Progenitors: Isles of Genesis
Concerning Shipwreck

Concerning Shipwreck

It was surprisingly exhausting work Morgan thought to himself letting out a sharp breath as he nearly slipped off one of the jagged rocks he had been balancing on. He had started off fairly well, having both the rocks beneath him and the small cliff face to steady himself. As he continued though he inevitably had to move further out. Morgan squinted with a tight lipped frown towards the vessel, trying to keep the stinging water from his eyes and mouth as seawater dribbled down from his drenched beard. Luckily his thinning, receding hair didn't catch much of the water, he thought with an utter lack of sincerity as his frown deepened slightly. The wrecked ship that had seemed so close before now felt as if each step forward stretched out like a mile. It was also an odd wreck he noticed now he was closer. It hadn't broken in half when it was smashed against the rocks and now he could see behind it, he noticed a line of rocks behind it that had crumbled to pieces. While Morgan wasn't an expert in physics, he was still fairly certain that had the ship really smashed forwards with enough force to pulverise rock it should have been in a far worse condition. A wave crashed into his side, interrupting his thoughts. Cursing his lack of attention as his feet slipped, he felt a powerful force start to drag him away as he lost his balance and the water withdrew.

“OH FU-SH-CRaaawwwpll” Morgan found himself being dragged uncontrollably through the rocks. He managed to shield his head from smashing into a nearby rock, an impact that he felt in his bones as his forearms took the hit and lit up with a pain he felt through to his gut that made him feel sick. As his arms and legs flailed around like panicking worms in the rain, he managed to catch himself on one of the larger rocks. Not wasting the chance he desperately clung to it with all of his strength. However the pain in his body was only growing from the accumulated bruises and cuts across his whole body, piling onto the pounding pain in his arms and salt water searing his lungs. Morgan felt his vision dimming, growing lightheaded as unconsciousness beckoned. Though he had and well, was struggling with depression, he didn't want to die, not truely. At times he certainly felt like he didn't want to be himself, he didn't want to exist anymore and at times death seemed like a way of achieving it. He didn't want to die, he wanted to be better and stronger and smarter but he always felt so exhausted on the journey there that the destination felt impossible. Perhaps on another day he may have simply let go, but today had been a strange day full of new experiences and even though it was difficult Morgan knew he had a bit of fight in him yet. As the thoughts resolved themselves in his head he felt almost by instinct to reach inside of himself, although it was a completely new experience it felt almost as natural as breathing. There he found what seemed to him a small, yet mighty and precious well of strength.

Although it had felt longer, only the bearest of moments had passed, as if time has been stretched thin for him at that moment. Willing the strength he felt into him, a warm rush spread out from his heart and through his body. The pain of his injuries seemed insignificant, they hadn't healed, they still hurt like hell-but in that moment he was stronger than the pain. Pulling with all his might Morgan dragged himself up the side of the rock. Only when he had pulled himself fully to the top did he break into uncomfortable coughing and spluttering as he choked out the last of the salt water. As he laid there the strength that had come to him faded and the burning in his nostrils and throat were joined by the rest of the injuries on his battered body. The last of that power left his body and while he could still feel that strength inside him, it seemed lesser to him now, diminished. It was a feeling he felt echoed in his mind as the pain he had conquered returned with a vengeance and he felt small and helpless at its onslaught.

Morgan laid on the rock holding back whimpers of pain as he groaned, breathing in uneven and ragged breaths. The waves still crashed against him and it took some time for Morgan to muster the courage to move again. Looking up around, Morgan took the first genuine sigh of relief in ages.

“As much as that was a horrible experience I never wish to repeat…” Morgan glanced up as he croaked

“At least it brought me closer to the ship”

Keeping a low profile on the rock for balance, Morgan scanned his eyes across the ship's hull, looking for a way up. Thankfully he thought to himself, my eyesight isn't so bad when what I'm looking for is large and right in front of me. It wasn't a particularly high bar to meet, but he was glad he met it all the same. Nearby, he spied a small rope ladder which considering the conditions was suspiciously intact. Carefully, he slipped down onto a smaller rock and stepped across another couple which he definitely didn't slip on, he was close enough that he managed to grab the rope before he fell into the water again. Instantly, his palms burned with pain. The cuts and scrapes they'd suffered protested against the rope and brine as he heaved himself up. Adrenaline, while not on the level of whatever mystical spirit juju he'd tapped into before, was still a hell of a drug. Bar by bar, Morgan dragged himself up out of the rocks and wave, until finally he heaved himself onto the boat and collapsed on his back. Heaving in a few deep breaths he felt almost euphoric from the effort and let out a triumphant whoop.

“I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE IS LISTENING, BUT IF THEY ARE I'M ON A BOAT!”

Maybe it was the hunger and dehydration setting in but he wasn't quite sure where he was going with that one. A manic giggle escaped his lips as he tried to right himself, using his relatively undamaged right knuckles to balance himself as he drew himself from the ground.

“Urrgh my back, why is it always the back” Morgan croaked as he tried to soothe his back to no avail. Bleary eyed from the pain which he was only starting to get used to he checked himself over for any serious injuries. From head to toe he found himself covered in cuts, scrapes and a growing number of bruises. Luckily the few gashes he did were relatively minor, none having hit anything serious like an artery. He did note that unless he could find something to help soon, the high risk of infection would mean it was all likely to get much, much worse. Morgan shook his head as he forced himself not to think about it, shifting his mind to the contents of the ship before his anxieties got the better of him.

Looking around Morgan took note of a few points of interest. First was the cabin he saw to the top and back of the ship. If there was anything particularly valuable here it would likely be there. The second was a hatch below deck which he hoped hadn't been completely cleaned out for supplies, even if the stored food had gone bad there should at least be a few tools there. Lastly and the point he felt equal parts relief, bitterness and stupid for was a series of large rocks on the other side of the ship which while still treacherous, formed a far safer path back than the one he'd taken to the ship. Grumbling under his breath he turned to the back of the ship, his battered feet stinging with each step. The ship started groaning as he approached the cabin door and built to an unpleasant and reproachful crescendo that culminated as he tried to tug and then push it open. He had already started moving more carefully, fearing the otherwise very solid looking ship would give way under him. That feeling was soon overcome by a sense of trespass that pervaded him. He tried to rationalise it away but as hard as he tried he couldn't quite shake the feeling, nor the sense that he was being watched. Morgan took a few steady steps back from the cabin and the growing anxiety that dominated his thoughts eased into a subtle tension in his muscles. It had felt suspiciously like a large growling guard dog, teeth bared and hackles up had just plopped itself back down and was now giving him the “Don’t try anything pal I'm watching ya” look. Trying to calm his nerves Morgan looked to see if his little owl friend was still there and sure enough he could see it still perched on the olive tree. Still with perfect clarity despite being even further away.

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“Okay, funky owl friend was not a calming influence, I should jus-” he voice stuttered to a stop as the hatch to the lower deck opened on its own and he took a reflective step back, only for the ship to groan at him until he took a step forward. He could see directly down into the darkness and there was no one who could have opened it. Down below a couple of wall lanterns lit on their own, their light far too steady for flames revealed a couple of inches of murky water as their light refracted along the surface. Morgan had been flatly rejecting it every time his mind mentioned the idea that what he was seeing was magic. The sceptical, scientific and rational part of his mind insisting on a mundane explanation was hanging on by a thread.

“This is probably just a big prank right? I mean it couldn't be a magic boat, it's probably just some ill-timed wind or some movement of the waves.”

He heard another groan and this time he could feel it in the wood as it subtly shuddered in a swirling pattern around him before shifting down the hatch and causing faint ripples in the water below. He felt a strange mix of outrage and impatience. Morgan quickly thought over what he could have done wrong when his mind latched onto a piece of seaman etiquette he'd picked up from his dad from one of the few holidays they'd spent together.

“Ship! Sorry magic-ship I meant to say you're a magnificent magic ship” Morgan quickly blurted out his correction, stumbling over only a couple of words. Another creaking groan, softer this time had swirled around him in a much gentler fashion, though still beckoning him to the hatch. He'd received a feeling of calm pride and acceptance this time and the last vestiges duct tape and bubblegum holding his world-view together lost the fight as he decided he was going to have a conversation with a ship. Gathering his wits Morgan asked in what he thought was a conversation tone

“So, uh, look I know you want me to go down that hatch but I gotta ask is it safe?”

The ship replied with a feeling of reassurance and warmth that he felt reverberating to his core. He got the impression it was an honest ship somehow, so he couldn't help but ask

“So I don't mean anything by this, ah-what I mean is that I don't mean to offend you but are you perchance a ghost ship?”

There was a long pause where nothing happened, he was starting to fear for the worst when a chilling breeze enveloped him and the groaning of the ship shifted into a higher pitch.

“OoooooOoOooooooooOooOooo”

The wooden imitation of the classical ghostly sound, which honestly could have been spooky if it were not undercut but the clear sensations of mocking whimsy and joy as the creaking slowly shifted into a strange clackering and clicking sound that Morgan soon realised was laughter. Of all the things it could have done to disarm him, he had to admit that was pretty effective. He snorted a short laugh as the first genuine smile in a long while, from before all the strangeness had even started crept across his lips and crinkled the corner of his eyes.

Morgan tried to scowl but ultimately couldn’t hold the laughter building in his chest.

“Alright, laugh it up you overgrown bucket I'm going in” the mirth in his voice overriding any edge his words might have otherwise had. His laughter teetered off as he entered the bowels of the ship. Morgan was rather good at taking things in stride. Well a big part of that was a lack of anything worthwhile and meaningful in his life that such strangeness could seriously threaten, but still. The cool water wasn't particularly deep and more of the strange lanterns lit up to guide him. He still couldn't quite shake his nerves however, as he crept through the water. The lights lead him around the back of the hatches stairway. One of the lights ahead lit up from within a large and he carefully made his way in, sliding each foot to make sure they didn't see something spikey he couldn't see, the cuts and scrapes on his legs were already stinging from the briny water and he wasn't eager to add any more injuries to the list. He was lucky he did as he felt the solid wood beneath his right foot suddenly slip away.

Morgan's heart felt like it did a flip in his chest as he shot back to the inner hull of the ship, letting out a long string of particularly impolite language that would have done any sailor proud, had one been present. Breathlessly Morgan addressed the ship.

“Could you please warn me if there are any other dangers here before I step in them?”

He tried to keep the edge from his voice but the constant pain from all the battery he'd sustained along with the sun burns and exhaustion were stretching the limits of his control. A softer, apologetic grinding shifting through the ship as lights began to shine in the deep. Shifting past the drop, the lights within it revealed a completely flooded lower deck. Within he saw a number of fish swimming about and at least one crab. But the most surprising thing was that aside from barnacles, there was a large mass of colourful coral lining the base of the ship. A dawning realisation hit Morgan as he reevaluated the age of the ship.

“Sorry for the attitude before… mate, I've had a bit of a rough day” It always sounded a little forced he thought when he spoke even remotely like a normal Aussie. He'd been drilled on “proper speech” when he was young and with an interest in fantasy literature and a number of other nerdy things, his normal mode of speech often sounded a little strange. Carefully making his way into what he now recognised as a cargo hold, he spoke with the ship again.

“Hey, uhh, Ship, how long have you been here and where is your crew?”

Morgan had a good idea about what the answer would be to his question and he felt his heart drop and shoulders sag when he received impressions of sorrow and loss. The lights around him subtly started shifting and a vague distorted image played across the surface of the water. He saw a swirling storm full of monsters, he saw the sailors holding fast and brave. They were making it through the storm and were almost out the other side when a colossal scaled mass rose from the depths and clipped the back of the ship.The force of the collision propelled the ship forward breakneck speeds. The captain and ship tried to change course but they were moving too fast, already too close to avert disaster. Though he couldn't hear the crash he felt it as his heart skipped a beat and his whole body tensed up, bringing with it a fresh spike of pain from his injuries. As the shimmer light faded from the water he saw for the first time real damage on the ship. The wooden panels on the rear of the ship splintered in places, but worse was how they had warped; planks of wood bent inwards as if a giant fist had smacked the back of them, bending slightly inwards-more like metal than wood. He stood there with the ship for what felt like a long few minutes in silence with the ship, nothing but the sloshing of water from within the hold, the muffled whistling of wind and crashing of waves filling the gap. In spite of the chaos of the sea, the ship itself didn't make so much as a squeak, whether through some passive strength it possessed or an act of stubborn rebellion against the sea, the elements outside were not enough to move the ship event he barest fraction of an inch.

In the muted hold, Morgan stood, the dripping of water all around him and for a brief moment - it sounded like tears.