The Storm’s Memory
It is the 7th day into our voyage across this unnamed sea. The storm clouds are above us, threatening to come down at any moment. The captain is yelling orders as the West winds start to pick up, telling his crew to take down the sails. Being the only non-crew member on the ship, I have not a hint of an idea why they are pulling down the sails.
One would think the faster winds would push our sails harder, making us go faster than normal, but alas I’m not a sailor. I am but a journal keep, paid by the Queen to take note of the voyage. There has been nothing to note so far in the village except the sickness of my stomach and the waves that worsened it.
This was my first time on a large boat, as a child a storm knocked me out of a row-boat and cast me against some of the shore rocks near my childhood home. I laid upon the beach throughout the storm with my battered body, barely conscious waiting for someone to come gather my body and take me to warmth.
My savior was a seal, which were quite uncommon to see around this area. He laid beside me, giving me warmth as his loud bark went on through several awakenings of my constant passing out. My brother came out to see the seal and ran back inside to gather his spear and knife.
I had not the voice to tell him to leave the seal be, that had he not barked and laid beside me, I would have already passed. My brother came quickly across the shore, the rain pelting making the sand soft and the seal slick.
As my brother reared back the spear to throw, the seal quieted and laid completely still beside me. A new strength came to me to me then, and I was able to lift an arm. I wrapped my arm around the seal’s body allowing the bracelet my brother had made for me show against the dark skin.
It was a long wagon ride to my house, though it was only three hundred paces from where I laid. I hurt everywhere and the seal watched as my brother and my father loaded me into the wagon, strapped down for my protection.
I never saw that seal again, but every time it storms I still think about that day, and how a simple-minded animal had saved my life without any regards to his own. As the rain started to come down, the thunder cracking in the distance, a loud barking came from across the hull. I stood, my sea legs weak, and walked slowly to the edge of the ship.
My savior barked at me, waving a fin at me before diving underwater. This was a story that I will write to the queen, even if she doesn’t believe me.