Ships That Pass in the Night

The sunset shimmered on the glassy bay, marred only by the small ripples made from oars pushing against the water. It was eerily quiet, the wind suspiciously settled and the birds uncharacteristically tight-lipped, making the silence that hung between Falanyel and Samhan even more palpable.
Headed for a barrier island just off the coast from Dawnhollow, Falanyel’s old boat sailed closer to the shore, offering her a decent enough view of the spit of land. It was a pathetic sight, and she’d already known as much from having lived half a mile away her entire life. The island was too small and too sandy to boast any trees, but it had just enough dirt to sport a number of scraggly shrubberies, most of which looked like they’d only reach her shin, and the tallest might barely extend to her hips.
“I don’t see him.” She muttered quietly as she scanned the island with her spyglass. If the fisherman was standing, she’d have seen him already. “It looks empty to me.”
“Better go over and check.” Samhan suggested, still rowing for the island.
Setting her spyglass down, Falanyel debated what she would do when they arrived on shore. She didn’t really want to get off the boat, but she also didn’t want to get in a debate with Samhan over the matter. In truth, she wasn’t sure what scared her more, the possibility of finding another dead, washed up sailor, or looking into Samhan’s eyes.
“I think my father probably just saw a deer or something.” Falanyel commented, more in effort to convince herself than Samhan.
“You think deer live out there?” Samhan asked curiously.
“I don’t know, maybe?” She shrugged.
“How would they get all the way out there?”
“Swim, I guess.” It wasn’t completely unheard of. “Two towns north of here there’s a barrier island full of horses. How do you think they got out there, if not for swimming?”
The sailor shrugged. “Never seen an island populated by deer before is all.”
“What, so you believe him then?” She asked, almost accusingly. “That the fisherman is stranded out there?”
“It’s a possibility.” Samhan replied casually as they sailed closer to the island. “But you’re right, I don’t see him on the beach.”
Crossing her arms, Falanyel took the victory she could.
A few minutes later, Samhan rowed into shallow waters. When she felt the hull of the boat begin to grind against coarse sand, she hopped out and helped Samhan pull the vessel to shore.
Upon closer inspection, it was clear to Falanyel that the island was even less attractive than she’d originally thought. The shrubberies were mostly devoid of leaves, exposing the ashen brown color of the branches that jutted forward in uncomfortable ways, like broken bones.
“Well, I suppose there’s really only one effective way to find him.” Samhan sighed, after having taken a good look at the feeble island himself. “What’d you say his name was again?”
“Tarnah.” Falanyel offered, looking at Samhan curiously.
The sailor nodded in acknowledgement before shouting, “Tarnah, you out there? Tarnah?”
He took off to the west, stepping gingerly over the miserable foliage, shouting as he went. Falanyel for her part, followed suit, calling out Tarnah’s name as she headed out to the eastern side. Fortunately enough, the paltry size of the island made it easy for Falanyel and Samhan to cover it in under half an hour. They met back up at the beached boat, just as the sun began to dip below the sea.
“Didn’t see anybody, save for you.” Samhan commented as they regrouped.
“Likewise.” Falanyel responded as she reached in the boat to pull out an oil lamp, which she lit shortly thereafter with flint and steel. She was not about to be left without a light source on some spooky island after the sun had set, not after what she’d seen on the beach a few days earlier.
“Well I guess we head back then.” Samhan shrugged. “About time, too. I’m getting pretty hungry.”
Since first meeting the man, Falanyel’s attitude towards Samhan had changed rather significantly. When they’d stumbled upon the dead sailor, he’d proven himself not only to be conversational but also kind of a gentleman in a pinch. She had to give credit where credit was due, and though he didn’t know it, after he’d carried her back to town she’d more or less decided to stop being so irritable with him. That was, however, before the dream she’d had.
Now she didn’t so much as snap at him as try to avoid him altogether. She’d caught a glimpse of his eyes thrice since morning, and that had been three times too many for her comfort.
So, while Falanyel could certainly use some dinner too, and might have otherwise engaged in conversation with the sailor, she remembered the way his frosty eyes made her skin crawl, and decided to nod idly instead.
Falanyel set the lamp in the boat before getting ready to heave it into the ocean. Samhan, for his part, already had his hands on the wood, ready to push. Just as they began to cast the boat into the water, a blood curdling shriek pierced through the air.
She froze instantly.
“What was that?” She asked, shivering voice barely above a whisper.
“Tarnah?” Samhan ventured, though by the tone of his voice she could tell he wasn’t particularly confident in his answer.
“I don’t think--”
Another shriek cut her off, this time accompanied by the distinct sound of brush moving. Whipping her head in the direction of the shrubbery, Falanyel watched in horror as a blackened corpse pushed through the foliage, running, albeit slowly, to try and catch them.
“Push, Samhan!” Falanyel yelled as she forced the rowboat into the sea with incredible haste. The sailor didn’t protest.
They ran shin deep into the ocean, water hindering their frantic efforts to escape the wailing monster. Once they were far enough in that the boat could be oared, the sailor hopped in, followed by Falanyel, who nearly tipped the boat in her panic.
“Careful.” Samhan commanded, voice as steady as steel.
“Sorry, sorry!” Falanyel shot back as she situated in the back of the rowboat. She watched with burning anticipation as Samhan rowed and listened with extreme keenness to gauge their pursuer’s approximate location. Nervousness ate at her, her hands unsteady and her thoughts racing. She wouldn’t look back, she shouldn’t look back. What she’d seen already was enough to grant her a year of nightmares, she shouldn’t cause herself any more distress. But curiosity and anxiety ate away at her, and before she could stop herself, her head was turning round to get a final glimpse of the thing that chased them.
Wading in the shallow water just twenty feet away was the corpse, frigid eyes glaring at her through the darkness.
Falanyel shrieked in response.
“By the gods, Falanyel!” Samhan cursed. “You are not helping.”
“He has your eyes!” She exclaimed, lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “Why does he have your eyes?!”
“Calm down!” Samhan ordered, clearly stressed by her fuss.
But it was too late for that. Falanyel was fixated on the dead man standing in the water. The only two things that kept her from fainting right then and there were the strong smell of seawater and the realization that the corpse wasn’t making much progress.
Distance though they might have been gaining, Falanyel still couldn’t rip her gaze away from the piercing blue eyes that seemed almost illuminated in the pitch black of night.
Slowly, but surely, Samhan rowed them away from the island, until eventually Falanyel could no longer see the corpse among the shallow waves. It was only then that she processed her state of being, which was freezing cold and shaking like a sapling in a hurricane.
“Who are you?” She asked Samhan, voice accusing and haunted, as she turned on the man in the boat with her, if he was even a man at all.
“I’m a sailor, Falanyel.” He replied casually as he continued to row the boat, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.
“Don’t lie to me, Samhan.” She spat his detestable name as she rose to her feet. “That, that thing, it had your eyes. Explain yourself!”
Sighing, the man in front of her set the oars aside and turned around. He pressed his hands on the bench he sat upon and rose to full height, coming up to at least six feet tall, his nose towering above Falanyel’s head. He looked down at her, eerily blue eyes regarding her with scrutiny.
“You need to calm down, Falanyel.” He said, voice deep and measured. “That thing, whatever it was, did not have my eyes. I have my eyes. No one else does.”
“Never in my life have I seen eyes as icily blue as yours, Samhan.” She remarked. The boat rocked as she did so, threatening a capsize, but not enough that she had to balance herself.
“My eyes are fairly rare, I recognize that, yes.” He afforded her. “They are a particularly light color. I am aware.”
“I don’t, I don’t…” She shook her hand in the air, dismissing his comment. “What I want to know is why the dead--” Falanyel cut herself off, needing to swallow to stave off the lump in her throat. Tears of fear prickled at her eyes as she finished her sentence by saying, “the dead have your eyes.”
“Maybe the dead lose color in their eyes when they die.” He reasoned. “And they end up looking whitish, which, in this lighting, can seem sort of light blue, don’t you think?”
She stared at him, lips tight and quivering. Falanyel didn’t like that what he was saying made sense. She’d never seen a dead person’s eyes before, so she really wasn’t in the place to say what they did or did not look like. Perhaps Samhan was just unlucky, and happened to have eyes colored like death.
But another part of her reminded herself that none of this explained her dream.
Frowning, Falanyel folded her arms, and decided not to fight Samhan anymore. She didn’t know how. He was just a sailor with uncanny eyes, a harmless man who had, if she was being honest, unfairly been on the receiving end of her wrath for some time. Flames, she was just so scared, she didn’t know what to do, and all she wanted were answers.
“What’s happening, Samhan?” She asked, tear-laden voice barely above a whisper.
The sailor stepped over his bench toward her with an undue amount of grace, barely even causing the boat to rock. Gently, he pulled her into his chest and tucked her head into his shoulder. A big hand patted her head, fingers running through her hair as she sobbed quietly.
“I don’t know, Falanyel.” He answered, voice quiet. “I honestly don’t know.”
“This is, this is…” She trailed off, tears escaping her eyes rapidly. “This is a nightmare.”
“It’s not a nightmare.” He said easily, his strong arm around her shoulders providing her with no small amount of security. “It’s scary, but this is hardly a nightmare.”
“I’ll never be able to sleep ever again.” She muttered into his chest.
A low chuckle rumbled from his. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”
“Am not.” She protested, though, in truth, she knew she was. Who could blame her, after what she saw?
“Look, let’s get back to the lighthouse and tell your father what happened. Then you’ll have hot food and soothing tea, you’ll read a book, and fall asleep peacefully in the sanctuary of your bed. How does that sound, hmm?”
Falanyel nodded her head, indicating that it sounded pretty decent, even if she doubted how likely it was that she’d fall asleep peacefully. So she pulled away, stepping back to sit herself down on the bench. She’d let Samhan row them safely back to shore and she’d follow his plan of getting fed and comfortable.
She’d try as best she could to fall asleep peacefully when the time came, but she knew that’d never happen. Not with the way the piercing shriek played on repeat inside her head, nor with how remembering the sight of a skeleton running towards her still made her hair stand. Most of all, she’d never be able to sleep with the picture of those crypt blue eyes seared into her mind, as if she were next. That’s what would be hardest to forget, those frigid orbs, Samhan’s eyes.