"I was just an idea… until I saw the sea."
Not the sky.
Not the city.
Not the people.
The sea.
She was the first to call me.
The first to whisper that my name wasn't truly mine.
That promises don't begin when they're spoken,
But when they're forgotten.
There, on the shores of Nahal, as the mist rose from the canals like spirits of molten metal, I understood:
I wasn't the traveler.
I was only the letter the sea sent to the unknown.
Written in flesh. In blood. In dreams.
I was only a few years old. I didn't know the weight of destiny.
But my grandfather had already told me a thousand stories tales carried from beyond the seas. Beyond all that could be said.
"Get your paper! The amazing Mahim ship!" shouted the vendors in the city of forgotten deeds.
A city that believed itself rich, yet starved in silence.
"The city's done so much for us! And what will it do next? Sell us?!"I flinched. A truth slipped from my lips. More honest than any vow.
"Yes, yes, kid! Say what you like! Truth is, we're making progress!" laughed the man with the magazines.
And in my mind, one thought:
"What progress, when culture dies and the soul is sold at the market stand?" I grabbed one of his magazines and ran home.
The city groaned with noises and strange machines. Laughter. Screams. Festivals a theater of shadows, selling old hopes in shiny boxes.
But not for me.
I already saw Everything.
And all I wanted… was the Ocean.
The real adventure.
But I was alone.
I had a house.
I had no mother.
Only the hand of an old man, now gone.
One evening, I poured water over the flowers at his grave.
And said, with a half-smile:
"Good evening… or maybe… We've arrived."
On the table by the door, a letter:
"A wave is not a wave without a ship."
"Let the sea's wave carry you, not the wave of men. Destiny is not made by man. Destiny is your road into the unknown."
"The unknown is man's path. Fear is humanity's obstacle."
I reread those words for years. And I didn't understand… until now.
Because my journey has just begun.
And I was told only this:
"Three days from now."
Then the Mahim Ship will set sail, the first step toward the Northern adventure… and maybe even beyond.
Suddenly, the wind howled outside.
Clouds broke into the abyss of rain.
Heavy and dark, they weighed down the sky.
A drop on the floor… another on the roof.
Rain spread across the city.
People rushed into their brick homes.
The copper around turned green… then, as it dried, returned to its rusty hue.
As I walked toward my room, through the cold emptiness of the house, the photo of my grandfather shone in my eyes.
I opened the frame.
The photo had a message.
From him.
"Maybe I'm gone from this world… but kid, don't stray from your path, even if it's hard.
Some people come and go… What matters is leaving the door open."
Tears faded from my eyes. "Yeah, old man… but you left too. And your door… it's still open."
I stopped crying. And I realized, he had left the door to his room open.
I rushed to check.
When I entered, there was a smell.
That scent of old age.
Maybe he was still alive… in my dream.
Maybe… he was smiling at me.
I lit the gas lamps and began searching the room, maybe I'd find something.
I opened the wardrobe.
"Alright, old man… let's see what you left me." I couldn't stop thinking about him.
Inside the wardrobe was a chest.
And when I opened it…
In my head: the sound of waves.
The scent of the ocean.
Salt.
Winds.
Sea creatures.
Everything that made up the ocean world.
Inside, there were:
– a compass pointing North,
– a map leading to a cube,
– and behind the map, a message:
"Maybe you found this chest, so don't hesitate, head to the Northern Zone. It won't be easy… but it will be a journey worth taking.
And use this with care."
He meant the pistol beside it.
Engraved with the initials:
GK – 17.01