TRAVIS

Travis groaned and reached for his head as he slowly regained consciousness. Before he opened his eyes, he noticed the lack of rocking. Am I on land? Am I stranded on an island?

With a groan, he slowly opened his eyes, then blinked at the sight of a mast with a clear blue sky behind it. A boat? Someone had neatly secured the white sail, but his focus quickly shifted to the rest of his surroundings as he sat up.

He rubbed his face just in case what he saw was an illusion caused by sleep-blurred vision. To his surprise, when he opened his eyes again, nothing had changed. How am I on a boat? Why isn't the boat rocking? It must have run aground.

At first, the shipbuilder's son was stunned by the beauty of the white planking of the medium-sized vessel. Every plank, as far as he could see, lacked blemishes or signs of possible weakness. Detailed silver etching lined the doorframes and railing. Visually, the vessel was stunning.

However, the ship had a standard layout with a forecastle, an aftercastle, and two masts. Based on the size and the number of masts, there were at least six sails, four rectangular and two triangular. I don't recognize the model.

The young sailor looked up to the flag that flew on the main mast and noticed the simple white flag with a narrow gold bar on the trailing edge and a golden wind-shaped swirl. Hm... the flag is unfamiliar as well.

He blinked as he noticed the lack of a sailor behind the helm, then noticed that except for the gentle splashing of the waves, the entire ship was silent. No creaks reached his ears. Even new ships groan a little bit. They often even creak before we launch them. This is unnatural.

Travis hesitated. Where am I? Is this where dead sailors go? Am here for the rest of eternity? Why am I alone? Something reassured him that he was still alive, but he wanted to pinch the back of his hand to increase his confidence level.

Travis paused as he noticed the semicircle bits of wood in each of his hands. A part of him remembered that he grabbed a bit of debris from the sinking ship. Despite his hazy memory, he knew his raft had been much larger than the bits that remained in his hands. This... that is not natural.

After pried his stiff fingers off of one of the pieces and noisily dropped it onto the deck, he traced his fingers along the near-perfect arc. "Cut," the woodworker mumbled to himself, "someone, or something, cut me free from my raft." He traced the smooth edge a few more times.

Travis glanced to his upper arms, where the knife used could have left marks, but though he spotted a few bruises, there were no scratches on his arms. "Hmmm... whoever did this was also skilled." He released the remaining fragment of his raft and glanced around. "I guess they threw the rest overboard."

After a brief moment of thoughtfulness, the young adult felt the urge to pinch himself to make sure he was still alive. He yelped and shook his hand. "Ok, I'm alive! That hurt!"

Once he recovered from his self-inflicted injury and calmed his breathing, he glanced around. "Hello? Is anyone else on board?" Travis called and slowly rose to his feet. He glanced around the white and silver ship as he kicked what little remained of the raft towards the scuppers. The pieces of wood missed the holes and noisily bounced off of the railing.

Travis paused, then calmly walked over to the railing, picked up the pieces, then tossed them over the side. While he was near the edge, he looked down at the deep blue ocean beneath him.

Splash. The two pieces of wood landed in the water at the same time and bobbed together, then slowly drifted with the current.

No coral reef or sandbar, she didn't run aground. His eyes moved towards the anchor, but he only saw the chain. At least we aren't adrift, but I have no idea how I am going to raise it to sail home.

He leaned over the side and looked towards the bow of the boat. He scanned the hull until his eyes landed on the golden lettering on the front half of the vessel. "Paragon. An interesting name." Travis hummed to himself.

The greenhorn sailor faced the rest of the ship once more. "Hello! Is anyone here? Captain of the Paragon?" He glanced between the doors of the forecastle and aftercastle in case anyone emerged.

However, no one appeared. Only the gentle sounds of the calm waves of the ocean hitting the hull below him answered him. A shiver ran down his spine, "ghostly," he murmured, "I'm beginning to suspect this is a ghost ship." Unlike the perfectly calm appearance of the ocean, fear and nervousness lapped at the edges of Travis's mind. Unnatural.

Something tried to assure him and help him remain calm, but the lone human's nervousness climbed to an uncontrollable point. A sense of worry reached him, but Travis pushed it to the side. The seemingly external emotions only further unnerved him. With a breath of trepidation, the shipwright's son looked towards the aftercastle. "Maybe they are all below deck, through why would they leave me up here alone?"

He walked towards the rear of the vessel and looked to the door. He hesitated, then slowly opened the unlocked door. The wooden door silently glided open and revealed a well-lit hallway. After a glance up, he noted two lines of small magic spheres glowing from their places on the ceiling.

The ship was continually silent. No laughter or bellows from sailors reached his ears. Also, the floorboards did not squeak as Travis slowly traversed the hall. Despite the silence, pictures, rope, and a net decorated the walls, but he paid no mind as he glanced into rooms.

Travis noticed a clock but would not have noticed it was functioning except for the steady movement of the second hand. It ticked, but the sounds were so quiet the nervous man barely noticed them over his breathing. So it is just past noon. I was unconscious for half the day. I wonder how much of that I spent floating adrift on my raft. If I can find someone, I will ask.

Every room Travis checked, though furnished, was devoid of living beings. "Hello! Anyone!?" Even a rat would be comforting to see at this point. He paused, then slowly admitted that he did not know if he would be glad to see a rodent. "I'm beginning to think that I am dead, and I have to wait here until my shipmates die so we can sail together and haunt the seas for the rest of eternity." Something assured him he was alive, but his doubts remained.

Eventually, the survivor descended the stairs and entered the hold. He glanced around, surprised that it wasn't empty. A few chests with varying states of rust and decay littered the ship's hold. A small white chest with gold trimming was the only one in perfect condition. However, Travis's focus was on his search for people, so he had no desire to look into the chests.

"There's no one here, is there?" The shipwrecked human sighed in defeat and slowly walked back towards the main deck.

As he walked down the hall, he noticed the door to the captain's quarters was open. That wasn't open when I passed through here earlier.... Travis paused, then approached the door and knocked. "Hello? Sir?"

The door silently opened wider under the minimal force of his knock. Unable to contain himself, the lost human slowly entered and glanced around. Sadly, no one was inside, but the man soon found himself wandering around and exploring. Intriguingly, the room looked like the other rooms he had checked but decorated much differently than the others.

While other rooms contained minimal furnishments, the area seemed much more used. Many framed images and documents lined the wall, and one of the frames held a collection of military medals. However, no personal items littered the ground or tables, though Travis suspected someone safely stowed them into the dresser built into the wall in the bedroom.

There were three rooms in the captain quarters, a front room with a large map, a bedroom with a hammock, and then a bathroom with somewhat modern plumbing, which is something Travis had never seen in an old ship.

After exploring the entirety of the room, Travis focused on the map of the entire planet. Maybe I can figure out where I am. He kneeled next to the diagram and studied it. However, he did not know the meaning of the pins and had no clue if the information was current. He noted red, orange, and yellow markers, along with one green pin, only appeared on the land. Blue, grey, brown, pink, and purple pins also sat on the blue portion of the map, along with one white and one black pin.

Out of the multicolored pins, Travis suspected the white one in the middle of the Grand Ocean, far from land, was their current position, if the map was accurate. He glanced to the other pins, but only a black one was somewhat nearby. That did not give him much hope.

"If I'm not dead, then I will die here. I can't sail this alone." Travis rested his head on the edge of the table. "Hopeless."

Eventually, he raised his head and looked at the clock on the far wall. "Eight!" He blinked. I've been wandering around for eight hours?! How?

The lost sailor stood and looked out one the portholes in the bedroom part of the captain's quarters. Daylight shined through the metal-rimmed circular window. What? How is there daylight outside?

After a moment to collect his thoughts, Travis looked back up to the clock. The clocks must be wrong, though they work. He paused, then made his way back out to the main deck.

When the shipwrecked sailor opened the door and emerged, a savory scent reached his nose. His storage growled, his mouth watered. He tracked the smell to the now-open door that led to the galley. Was that open before? As he approached, the scent strengthened. After a moment of hesitation, the sailor lost the battle against his stomach and peeked into the kitchen.

To his surprise, a small cooked fish was waiting for him on the counter. Someone had deboned, descaled, gutted, and filleted it. Though unseasoned and not breaded, the sight of the fried fish made his mouth water. Something told Travis the food was for him, but he had doubts.

"Hello? Who's fish is this?" Someone has to be here. Who could have cooked this? Again, something assured the lost sailor the food was for him.

Eventually, Travis picked up the fork sitting next to the dish, then took a bite. As the first bite melted onto his tongue, he realized how hungry he was. He immediately scarfed down the nearly-flavorless fish.

When he finished, Travis placed the dirty plate and fork into the sink. I guess I might as well be polite and wash this. He wet the sponge left on the edge of the sink with a bit of water from the tap, then scrubbed and rinsed both items with as little water as possible. Once they were clean, he dried everything with a clean-looking rag and put them into a box of other dishes.

The task complete, Travis walked out of the galley and looked out to the still-empty deck. "Maybe this place is just haunted by shy ghosts...," the sailor slowly admitted to himself in a whisper.

After a moment of pause, the shipwrecked man climbed to the top of the forecastle. He paused at the top when he noticed a silver shape atop the base of the bowsprit. His hopes rose until he recognized the figure was not humanoid. Travis slowly approached the dark mass, then knelt next to it.

"Wood," he marveled as he inspected the object. He gently fingered the individual details carved into the unpainted structure, each perfect to reality. Beautiful... I hope I can one day create things as beautiful as this; it looks like a real sea serpent, just smaller. Travis gently traced the edge of the ribbon-like fin that ran down the figure's back. He fingered the ridge as far as he could, as the tail ran over the edge and clung to the hull as it draped down towards the still ocean below. "I've never seen silver wood before. It's gorgeous and shimmers slightly in the light."

Then, he focused on the serpent's head. "Sapphires? An interesting choice for eyes." He studied the spherical blue stones and traced the tiny scales around the carving's eyes. Once again, he marveled at the intricacy of the details.

"You look perfectly real. Whoever carved you was a master carver," Travis awed. "You should be in a museum, not exposed to the elements on a boat."

Author Notes!

Oooooo spooky! Is this a ghost ship or is Travis crazy. Either way I hope you enjoyed this chapter!