A False Tranquility

A gentle breeze brushed against the cheek of a young man, causing him to stir slightly. Not long after a salty smell overwhelmed him so strongly that he could taste it. Grumbling out a groan, he began to smack his lips in the need for water. He squeezed his eyes shut, in a small attempt to stay asleep just a little longer, but quickly accepted that he needed to get up.

He awoke lying facedown in wet sand. Only putting in just enough effort to get his upper body off the ground, he stared at the imprint he left behind. His mind was completely devoid of any reason for why he was sleeping in the sand. The sand offered poor support to help keep him upright, and his arms began to hurt, but he still didn’t move.

It took him a long moment to register the soft caresses at his feet. His body was incredibly stiff, causing him to exert more effort than needed to turn around and sit upright. What had been stroking his feet was the gentle, rhythmic crashing of the small remains of waves. 

With his mind still empty, he watched the waves with little desire to do anything else. After some time passed, he slowly allowed his gaze to travel upward and take in the view before him. As far as his eyes could see, there was nothing more than the brilliant blue of a calm, peaceful ocean. It was a truly breathtaking sight, if not also blinding. Eventually, he had to acquiesce to his eyes’ demand to shut them, but the sounds of the waves were quick to fill in the void. 

It was some time before he opened his eyes, and the tranquility had yet to shatter. Taking more effort than he would have liked, he worked up the motivation to get up. His body creaked, and he stumbled at one point, but he managed to get onto his feet, though he felt like it wasn’t worth it. His head throbbed immensely, and he had to fight against the urge to sit back down.  

Having grown tired of watching the ocean, he finally decided to take a look at himself. His clothes were torn and ragged. Parts of them were stained red; he assumed it was because of his blood from the various wounds he could see. Sand clung to him, and the imprints from it were very visible on his skin. Despite being in the water, his upper half was mostly dry, and his skin was painfully red. There were parts of it already peeling at several points on his arm. Now aware of everything, his body cried out from all the pain, and he couldn’t help the little groan that escaped him. 

Hissing greatly, he awkwardly shuffled around to turn his back on the water. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but in hindsight, he should have expected to see a stock image of a deserted island. Beautiful, undisturbed sands meet a thicket of trees and not much else. As far as he could tell there were no signs of humanity to be found anywhere. 

A swarm of thoughts filled his mind, but none of them could stand out above the rest. He stared at the trees, not sure if he was hoping for something to appear or just slowly accepting his fate. Taking a deep breath, and regretting it a little, he turned away from the trees and began to walk along the shore. With each step, he took his body cursed him, but he didn’t stop and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was willing himself to continue or if something had taken hold of him and forced him to move. 

As he walked he could imagine, at some point, he dreamt about taking a stroll along a peaceful shore, but now it seemed like the ocean was mocking him. The sounds of birds soon began to fill his ears and it brought him some serenity. He wasn’t alone, well at least not completely. 

It felt like he had been walking for an eternity, but he doubted he had gotten very far when he saw a disturbance in the harmony of the island, debris scattered everywhere. He wanted to run to it, but his body refused to comply and so he had to shamefully limp towards it. Planks of wood, random pieces of metal, and other haphazard pieces of trash littered that part of the island. 

His eyes roamed over everything but nothing seemed to be of use or even jogged his memory. A frown twisted his features when he discovered a large side of a destroyed ship and it had what he assumed to be its name upon it, Wayfinder. After staring at that piece for so long a little snort escaped him before he turned away in disgust.

A small sigh slipped through his lips. His gaze drifted upwards, not a single cloud in the sky to help protect him from the sun’s unrelenting blaze. No matter how long he stared up at the sky nothing changed. He allowed himself one small, innocuous curse to spill from his lips.

When the pain in his neck became unbearable, he finally brought his sights back down. No matter how delusional it was, he still had a small hope that everything would have changed and that there would be a beautiful resort right in front of him, but he wasn’t so lucky. The branches of the trees swayed in the breeze, beckoning him, and he wanted to scowl at them but didn’t.

Accepting his fate he began to walk towards the trees. Dry sand burned his feet and he hissed with each step he took. The sounds of the calming waves grew more distant and it left him feeling empty. The darkness of the thicket was tempting but his instincts were telling him to avoid it, but he ignored them in favor of shielding himself away from the intense sun. Caution was something he needed to value greatly but at that moment it was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

He could not remember anything, but he at least knew that fate was a cruel mistress, so cursing her was pointless. If he was going to be stranded at least it was somewhere beautiful and he decided to thank fate for that; hopefully, she might smile upon him.