2 I.
Thunders. Oh! The Thunders! They are warnings from the heavens. Preludes of the great storm. They announce days of storms and great darkness. They are messengers of times yet to come. Times filled with wars and tears. With blood and regret. With thunders that will sing songs about The End of Everything.
* Hjalmar Tr'ndu – The End of Everything *
*
Arthur feels his body plummeting. Like a drop of water, he falls through the black sky. Quickly, amidst rain and darkness. His mind, confused, can feel only despair and his throat chokes in a silent cry. Meanwhile, his body falls, in a wooden container, crossing the stormy sky, amidst the deafening noise of the thunderstorm. He falls, clinging to his canoe, descending through the infinity of black and blue.
There is no time to think about "how" or "why". There is only the throat, closed, incapable of screaming the desperation he feels. Fear paralyzes and a new shock strikes: The canoe – and his body – plunges into the dark waters of an unknown sea. The submersion lasts only a few seconds, but, in his mind, it feels like an eternity. His ears are taken by a resounding silence, opposing the rainy noise from before. Water invades his nose and enters his mouth, further covering his throat. For a moment, he thinks he is going to drown, capable only to shake his body, desperately, fighting against the water ties that surround him.
Despair blinds his reasoning. The boat emerges from the waters, now floating over the waves of the raging sea. Raindrops hurts the skin like nails, one after the other. Once above the waters, he grasps for air – the chest moves fast, guiding the air to the throat. Gasping, he risks raising his face for the first time. Still without energy to scream, he hears the guttural sound of the storm. Looking around, all he can see is water everywhere, strong waves and a bleak void. In the distance, sometimes, lightning bolts illuminate colossal silhouettes.
Cold and fear.
For some reason, there is no pain mixed with those feelings. Just cold and a deep fear, instinctive and savage. He keeps himself in the canoe using the small strength provide by his arms, hoping to see something beyond the silhouettes that lurk in the horizon.
The small boat resists wave after wave, pushed in all directions by water and wind. It wanders through the waters, without a refuge at sight, no matter how much his eyes seek in all directions.
The rain become even louder. Lightning reigns over the darkness. Thunders roars over the silence. With the sound of a thousand drums and lights of a thousand lamps, one after the other. Revealing, everywhere, shadows scarier than the darkness.
The sound of a thousand drums is deafening, reaching the apex of this song of death. It is enough to mortify the boy who is standing on the canoe. Powerless, he crouches on the boat, doing his best to stay alive.
Then, without a warning, the silence arrives. Just for a second. As deafening as all the noises from before. A pause, before the lightning that crosses the horizon in all directions. Before a guttural sound that shudders Arthur's core. Moved by fear, he immediately turn, trying to see what have emitted such a sound.
Behind his canoe, where the waves flow, emerges a leathered and concave torso, dozens of times bigger than the boat. It emerges slowly over the waters, with the sound of a siren, who echoes through the storm.
Arthur staggers and feel his legs give in to fear, incapable of getting up. The torso rises more and more, several meters above his head. The body is black and shiny, taller than most buildings. The boy looks to both sides but does not find the end of the creature. One more time it emits a sound – a loud siren that can cover even the sound of the storm. The same siren reaches its highest point before stopping.
A lateral movement reveal one huge fin in the waters. Meters and more meters from the leathered limb rise and, at once, fall in a frontal blow against the surface of the sea. Arthur has no time to think before the waters, raised by the blow, raise a wave taller than all the ones that came before, flinging the canoe, detaching it from the waters. And he is thrown out, without enough time to hold on.
In the air, he sees his boat being swallowed by the waves and, right after, himself is embraced by the waters.
-Help! – He screams, his face still on the surface. – I can't swim! HELP!
The storm answers with the sound of a thousand thunders. The body sinks, with parts of his small boat torn apart and floating nearby. He is still able to get one last breath before totally going under water.
With his eyes open, he realizes the waters are clearer than expected. Holding the breath, he moves his arms without coordination, and his body moves, but not upwards. The more he moves, the more he seems to sink.
"Is that it?" He keeps looking around. "Is this how I'm going to die? Just when I though my life could change?" Anger grows in his chest. "When I don't even know where I am. Without even understanding what's going on."
The creature from earlier is in front of him. It is a whale. Bigger than any species that Arthur could imagine living on the entire planet. That thing in front of him is a monster, one of colossal proportions. It perceives the body trying to swim and decides to go in that direction. The conclusion is obvious, and the boy feel angry because of it. He feels hate.
"What did I do to deserve this? What's the reason of all this? Answer me!"
There is nothing he can do. The creature goes ahead and start opening its mouth. Arthur feels his bowels freezing. He feels fear and, even then, anger is his only facial expression. Sincere anger caused by whatever put him in that position.
The creature is a few meters away. There is no reason to hold the breath now. He opens his mouth, shouting the few bubbles that the air in his lungs can produce; water gets in the throat, burning the path to the lungs. He curses the whale, the seas and this unfortunate world that arose only to bring his death.
The creature's mouth is open, and he can see its interior. His reaction is to close his eyes and to clench his fists one last time, feeling the shortness of breath erasing his thoughts.
Then, something hits the side of the whale. A smaller creature, a few times bigger than the boy, attacking the giant animal with a powerful bite, tearing the thick skin and making black blood spread in all directions. Another small creature appears and then another one. Predators that disturb the movement of the waters and ignore small and easy preys. Predators that do not see the fainted body that is thrown away by their movement.
Because of that, an unconscious man rises and, slowly, floats on the surface of the stormy ocean.
*
Arthur feels that his tongue tastes different. It seems to have a sandy texture. Therefore, when he regains his senses, the first observation he makes is that, at some point, sand found the way inside his mouth.
For a few moments he forgets the events of the previous night. His mind, feeling numb, convinces him that it was all just a nightmare. And before opening his eyes he forgets the sand in his mouth and makes a wish: That he could be in his room. All he wishes is to open his eyes and start the day when his life could change for the better. When he had control and could have the future he always wanted.
If this wish is granted, he can see his family again. Hug his brother. See his parents' smiles.
He just needs enough courage to open his eyes.
Come on.
One, two, three.
Both eyes open and the sun immediately hurts them, revealing the shapes of a beach.
Arthur feels his whole body covered in wet sand. All his limbs are numb and sore. In the background, the water produces sounds and the tide touches his feet.
"Where am I?" He tries to ask, but the voice does not come out. He coughs and shakes his body, unable to do any complex movement. Feeling pain in all his limbs, he notices difficulty even in the act of breathing. When coughing, water and dirt jumps from his lips and drips down his cheeks. The chest is taken by a compulsive movement and sand keeps coming out of his mouth.
The eyes recover and the pain gives room to tiredness. He looks to the sky over his head and asks himself if this is the same place where he woke the night before. The clouded mind recovers the memories of the storm, sending a shiver down the spine. Little by little, he remembers the fall, the waves and the storm. Tilting the head sideways – the only movement that does not cause excruciating pain – he remembers every moment he thought death would catch up to him.
Wondering why all this is happening, he cannot stop his chest from filling up with sadness and resentment. What is happening? Why is happening? When will it stop?
None of this is fair.
Above his head the sky shines – blue, clear and peaceful. Daylight comes from the sun, resting in his face. The eyes finally recover from the bright light.
Unable to move or scream for help, he realizes the best he can do now is to contemplate the sky, trying to survive the paralyzing weariness while thinking about the dangers of the night before.
His eyes are lost in contemplation when he notices a strange light. It is not the one that comes from the sun. It is different. It moves – first here, then there. Slow at first, then a little faster, as if it wanted attention. It dances in front of his eyes, taking shape as time goes by. After a few seconds, it become more than light. It is some type of mass. Light as gas, however, dense and colorful as well. A color unlike any other Arthur has ever seen in his life. It is not opaque, but of a transparency like that of plastic, giving the impression that the gas is turning into plasma.
The light continues to move. It goes to the left, then to the right. It knows he is watching, and it seems to acquire shape because of that. It approaches his body. Paralyzed – this time, not only by a physical disability, but also because of the shock -, he feels, inside, something cold. It freezes everything. Then, a sudden warmth. Hot as lava. Hot and cold mix up and seems to move along with the shape in front of him. He feels joy and sadness. Pain and pleasure. He feels like the universe can fit into his body and everything seems possible, at the same that time everything seems impossible. Then, there is no space for thoughts in his mind. Only to look the shape in front of his eyes.
"It seems human". He thinks, finding strength in his arm to reach out. He wants to touch. To feel. To be a part of it. "What is that? This force so wonderful and, at the same time, so terrible?"
"It is definitely human." He distinguishes the shapes of arms, legs, chest and a head. This last piece tilt in the direction of the arm, extended in its direction. The figure has no distinguishable features, except for the eyes: Black and bright, as two dark, bright orbs.
-Who are you?
This is the first time Arthur's voice can formulate words since awakening. He grunts but cannot speak again.
The light approaches. It looks to the hand and then to his face, before extending its own arm in that direction.
The heart skips a beat.
Hand to hand.
Arthur's world goes dark again.
*
*
