Oh, how the night goes, and the wind still stands strong. The ocean is starting to rise and fall, but the moon is vacant in the sky. Britannia is closer than they thought but still more distant than they could reach.
The darkness blanketed the ocean dark, turning the abyss even darker than before. As the librarian indulges in this seemingly peaceful world, she is surprised to see her life flash within the abyss's surface. The reflection of a woman who wouldn't be here if she wasn't chosen for this destiny of wisdom.
"Look at that," Eve muttered, book set and pen wiggling between her fingers. The reflection was dark, but the moonlight revealed a vivid shade of her on the water.
"I look so much different than I thought. So...dead. Since when did I have a hair that long? Have I not cut it out before?"
"I'm such a forgetful girl. Am I?"
The night was suffocating. For the three wanderers, bare naked without clothes while the wind blows into their nightly voyage is only the beginning of their suffering. The cleric shivers so heavily without his amice covering his neck, his robe blanketing his arms, and his pants keeping him warm, unlike the librarian who has been living in icy judgement.
"Brr, the night. It's too cold..." Cyrus wraps himself like a mollusc on the skiff.
"Wow, what's that scar on your back?"
"Scar? Y-you mean my birthmark that shaped like a sun? Yeah, I've had it l-long when I was born."
"You never told me that." Eve rubs it like a scab. It felt like normal skin but slightly swollen.
"You never ask! I thought you didn't like it...because others did."
"They didn't like your mark?"
"Nope. Having a mark like a sun makes people think you're a god. It's a disgrace to stand a god among people as a Synora because you are disrespecting the Fire Son's name. I wanted to keep my name equal among my people."
"Oh..." Eve rubs more.
The Tin Man began to show his fear. The darkness seeps his choice away—no longer can he feel indifference to nature anymore. As the sun left not even a trace of honey hue on the sky, his metal body began to jolt out of fear. The unbearable silence!
"N-NO! No! No...no...! Lantern on! Lantern on!" He charged his lantern with the remaining oil, but the sparks were too weak after many uses. The Tin Man was helpless in the face of the moon, watching as judgement and nature stared back at him heartlessly for his ignorance.
"I can't do this! I can't! I must...wait. Aha! Sparks!" Charger pauses, his eyes glanced towards his antennae, and he has an idea.
"Alright! Time to spark out! Now!" He raises his arms, and from his arms, the blue sparks emanate.
Woosh! His antennae charged up blue, shimmering the skiff enough for him.
The soul of the Tin Man sparks indifferently, yet shaping itself in the darkness as it finds itself now. The librarian was surprised to see even a set of pebbles would live against the odds of nothingness. If life could flourish even in the deadest form of matter, then what could not have been possible?
"It's bright! It's bright! Yeah!" Charger was desperate. His voice slowly turns pressed and troubled as he continues.
"It's not warm. Not warm on my Tinerium bones, but at least it's bright...hehe..."
"Tinerium, Buttleboo, and Quasor. I kept learning something new about him. Don't you feel the curiousity, my friend?" Eve commented.
The librarian felt the night longer, and more knowledge appeared before her eyes. The darkness was brighter than she thought, and the ocean was slipping on her fingers. As each moment passed, she felt like she was seeing something new in her life. Something she hasn't been reaching out to since she was young.
"You know, this reminds me of things. So many stories made by sailors here."
"Like what? Struggling naked in the ocean without a blanket? Cause I think it's fair enough! Brr..." Cyrus wraps the ashes of his works on his chest. Warm at first, but the wind was blowing too strong.
She remembers stories about sailors Frayfolian written on the library's shelves, sharing the tension between life and death with only a lump of water. Fishes were swimming to the south during summer to search for breeding grounds, so many of them often struggled to find a catch.
"A lot of sailors do feel like this. Do they? The ocean was just that big. And we? We the humans are too small..."
"Imagine how good it would be if we all could travel to one place without going to the ocean," Cyrus whispers with his eyes perched on the stars.
"Sounds ridiculous! Where's the challenge, then?"
The darkness comes, taking the view from the dock at full. The sailors didn't have enough lanterns, so they had to row their paddles while hoping they hadn't yet encountered something in the ocean that could kill them. There were so many things that would kill them.
Their struggle, their honest effort to survive through desperation and unguidance, is what makes their journey lovable to the librarian. For them, there was nothing miles ahead, yet they acknowledged the moon as their only companion.
"Come on! Come on!" Cyrus tries rubbing two rocks again to create a fire while the wind is blowing above his head.
"Come on, Cyrus! Don't let this night become darker for us!" Charger grew desperate like him. His face was priceless.
"I'm trying! Don't push me,"
The Tin Man's dread for the darkness grew, but the darkness hadn't even touched him yet. The thought of this shapeless beast roams into the wanderers' heads with confusion, trying to inflict hidden harm to the lightless skiff in the vast ocean of night.
"Aah! The fire is not working! Not working!" He feared.
"Cut it out! I can't make it with you buzzing on my ears, creature!"
"I'm not fond of darkness, okay? My kind are not made for this!" Charger sets his head on spark.
"Why not? What was your kind made for?"
"Life! That's what!"
The ever-growing nought in the space has started to corrupt the wanderers' minds. Without light, they feel the presence of evil around their skiff, blowing through the winds and entering their heads and their ears.
"Oh, no! It's too dark! What do we do? What do we do?" The Tin Man grew even more panicked.
So the librarian came up with an idea. The darkness is shapeless and undefined, yet roaming distant and enormous above their heads. One could only fear what they witness, but this void could only harm what you thought of. Even the strongest force still lacks the strength for a full absolution without realization.
"You ever wondered what darkness is?" She asks.
"No. Why?" Cyrus pauses, making Charger even more furious.
"Maybe you should. It'll help you ease your mind against the darkness, making it feel smaller and easier to catch."
The wanderers pause. Never had they thought of such an idea from the librarian, which is why she was the genius among the three. The Tin Man's head had never been more enlightened by her wisdom as well.
"R-really? Would that work?" Charger peeked through Cyrus's thighs.
"Well, if you made a beast look scary, you've made it scary. Made it soft, and it'll be soft. Darkness is shapeless, my friend..." Eve replies, holding her book.
"But you? Your mind isn't. So come with me, and shape this darkness together with our heads."
The three wanderers gather for a view of the moon—their eyes are darkened as the night, and their mouths are opened like a void. They never thought how the night could be so beautiful without those lights from the street polluting the stars away. Perhaps silence brings its truth in another way.
Each wanderer has their own shape. The darkness is a huge thing, but it is still shapeless among them. There was no design, no meaning, and no purpose yet. Thus, the three wanderers decided to make it a purpose so that night would not be scary.
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Night stares into the cleric's eyes so low, but he stands persistent in his light. The void reads in his head like a book, dropping an ink of doubt into his head as he continues believing. For the faithful, darkness is not just the vision but the thought.
"Darkness." Cyrus mumbled.
"A terrible beast lurking in the nowhere. How am I not supposed to think of it?"
"It's in my eyes, and now it's in my head. Darkness is the seed of doubt growing in all of our heads."
He shaped the night into each of the wanderers' heads, casting a tendril so tall that they began to intertwine with them. The wanderers feel the vine wrapping around their heads, slowly creeping through their ears and puncturing their brains. It hurts only when the three of them begin to think of it.
"You may see it as none, but I see its form before. The darkness attached into my head with a thorny vine and wrapped around my head as it makes me question against my belief."
"It has a thought, and its thought was to deceive you into thinking it was fiercer than you. But the light shines like a weedkiller, cleansing you of its sharp thorn.
"For the existence of its thorn, there must be a root. Because the roots are in your head. Darkness doesn't exist outside of your head,"
For the faithful, the darkness is shaped like nature's binding in a man's head, birthing doubt and corrupt reason with its tendrils of disbelief. It was a perfect shape for a reason, but its power is still unmatchable against the belief of a man. For it can be cut through one's true strength.
"The darkness is a thorn in your head, growing by the seconds of your fear. The more you think of it, the more it grows. Think of the light, the fire and the ever-gleaming path you've had, and it'll cease. Think purely, and you will be cleansed."
In the end, the vine was cut, and the three wanderers were free from its thorn. Their thoughts are cleared as they remember only the light in the north. But it wasn't enough because the night still continued to terrorize them in another form. Thus, the librarian was the next one to define the darkness.
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A long pause for the librarian and a short silence for the wanderers. For her, so many things are hidden from the world through the eyes of a human. No one can see past the moon, and no one can reach past the clouds. Except for them, the wanderers are different.
"Darkness? My friends, these are merely one."
"Darkness came with many shapes. But I know one that would only strike us the most."
"Darkness is a light of its own. A spotlight that didn't shimmer, a sight that didn't reveal, and a vision that does not see."
For the wisest, the darkness stands out in the presence of the visionary. The three wanderers suddenly felt the black light coming above their heads, shining from the sky, yet dared not to look up. The fear of looking through the abyss keeps them from tearing.
"Darkness is everywhere, a light between deception and honesty. It wasn't just wandering in the Universe, it was shining black."
"For you to see one means you are looking into its truth. Yet you cannot hold it in because you were too comfortable in your light."
"It's not something you can deny. It's everywhere,"
Those who sought far beyond the light saw only an empty black view without meaning. But the wisest one knows that there's meaning behind this emptiness, as everything that wasn't empty has always been so meaningful.
"But if you wanted to defeat it, then endure the sight and see what the eyes have given you more than blackness. Remember what you are seeing is the truth in its own way."
As the three wanderers' eyes stare at each other, the black light dims before their eyes. What was once a sickening view now returned to the nothingness, leaving the three alone. Their vision clears, but the darkness still lingers strong and fierce. Somewhere, it still hurts them.
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The Tin Man isn't easily tethered to the darkness. The unthinking and unmoved only made him even more agitated in the darkness. Bold and indifferent to the chaos, yet fearful of the silence. Now, the librarian understands his true nature and personality. He wasn't the one trying to stay.
"Darkness. Oh, how much I hate it! I'm scared of it, you know?"
"I couldn't even think of one shape for this...darkness. It only feels so...burdening. That's all!"
There was no design for this darkness within the Tin Man. For a moment, it was only an empty air without a disturbance. The Tin Man could not describe how much he views this darkness as a burden. But that alone had already shaped what he had feared from the darkness; the burden. The living pressure of loneliness and silence began to take form into the wanderer's ankle, like a chain of a prisoner.
"You ever had that feeling that things tried to stop you? That thing, nonexistent yet absolute. The power of silent oppression and fierce stillness, in a world where a man are destined to move perpetually?"
"I could not imagine such immense presence trying to put me down!"
"It was everywhere, even in my skin! And somehow, I can feel it in the numbest layer of Tinerium. How can I not fear it? I'm a living spark of existence, I deserve to live by a purpose!"
For the free spirit, darkness is an obstacle, a silence meant to put those with a desire to move forward. They do not corrupt the body or the mind, only the world around them. The world had already turned against someone like Tin Man, so why is the darkness not to be feared?
"But the purpose...it's also powerful. It also exists within your life when you were born, purposeful and rich in path. The darkness is great, but the purpose is also great..." Charger grew weak and lost, not by the corrupting darkness but by the realization.
"Perhaps if you—If you move forward—move only in a straight line—following that spark of existence more..."
"You...outlive the darkness..."
The thought finally brings the three wanderers an easy fight against the night. Darkness, now formed a shape, has finally weakened until none of its influence can enter them. For now, the three wanderers are free of a beastly grip.
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"Woah! It feels much better here!" The Tin Man sat on his skiff like the human being he was. Sentient and livid, he felt a shift of thought from the darkness momentarily. Yet one could not say that this path would last forever, as he eventually returned to the darkness soon.
"So, do we even play a game, or are we just..." Cyrus wanders in his chair. Something didn't feel right for him.
"Game? Oh, right...I just like to hear your opinion, my fellow wanderers." Eve reflected into the ocean again. Her reflection faded on the surface.
"Really? You don't have to be that insightful for us. We've simply had not much to share unlike you..."
"Why? So you can hide your truth from me? This is adventure, Cyrus. I need to hear every voice here. Every one of you are here for a pursuit, either good, bad, or personal. We've must make it honest here because we wouldn't be when we reached the land!"
"I don't want this trip to separate us now because we've had nothing to return. So I want every mouth to speak as much as you can, share as much as you wish, and think as much as you need."
The wanderers stare silently into the horizon. Their eyes have never been more blackened under the night. However, the librarian can feel a shift in their journey because of these waves. The three wanderers could not last another cycle in this boat.
"As long as we're in this together, nothing could split our friendship." Cyrus laid his hand on her shoulder. That promise is as strong as the truth.
"Uhm...Eve? Maybe you want to see this..." The Tin Man perched with such horror. Their oceanic journey is coming to an end.