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Authored and written by Schulzenreich.
Critiqued by SquibbleZombie,
InspectingCritters, and
DrAkimoto.
Greenlit by DrAkimoto.
"I'm sorry, my love. I could not help but open this book I found in the archives. Will you still forgive me if I read it?"
Karagatan Para Kay Saranay
"Pwede bang makonsensya ang mamamatay tao sa pagkakasalang hiniling niya?"
Bawat piyesang iniwan ko sa pinakakalalimang asul ay para sa akin at akin lamang.
The sun rolls lazily over the horizon as I set off from the village to hunt my dreams' ghost. I smell the salt wind ever so slowly wafting over the shore as I drag my bangka with a rope tied to my shoulder, armed with my trusty fishing spear.
Lately, my dreams have worsened as the lady by the sea had prophesized. She says the ghost is the progenitor of my nightmares and sleepless nights, turning me into a walking corpse by daylight, fatigued and malnourished. Indeed, the ghost that haunts me even now shows memories I do not own but feel sorrowful for.
My heart aches from these false memories as the lady by the sea says with a happy frown: "If you do slay this most intruding and restless ghost, I will take your hand in matrimony, and I will be your guide for the rest of our fleeting lives." I stare at her familiarly.
"If you do not slay this ghost, then you will see me soaring in the skies above, free as the Inikadowa," she continues while pointing at the sea, in its deepest blues. "There you will find it awaiting you in solemn contemplation. Go fearlessly, dear Saranay." The lady by the sea leaves me with lingering thoughts of what was and what will be of me after this ordeal.
The blaze of the sun is cast directly above my head as I sail a surprisingly undisturbed sea, taking me less than two hours to reach its deepest blue. Once there, I cast my anchor into the depths, watching as the rope dwindles in circles by each second it descends the watery oblivion. Eventually, it does cease its fall to the ocean floor, allowing me to dive in with guidance and hunt the ghost of my nightmares with my spear in hand.
It was unnaturally cold for a summer sea, the water repels me, prickling every inch of my skin, as I sink deeper into the deepest of cerulean memories long forgotten. Forcefully, I press on, knowing yet forgetting that only regrets can be found in this desolate grave, rightfully buried by the endless ocean.
With reasons I can only explain as supernatural, the pressure on my head feels lighter the farther I plunge to Memoria Bottom, a heavy feeling pulling the soles of my feet so as for me to trudge on the seafloor.
The faintest of sunlight pierces the aqueous veil above me like the corpse-luminance of a dying deity adrift in a nothingness that is the sea. In front of me, a strange light entrapped within a bubble of air calls to me in sickly sweet scenes of a past life. A life I have no memory of.
"Walk with me," the strange light says. "I would like to talk with you before you kill me."
It floats carelessly, bearing no hostility despite my intent to slay it then and there. How could I not? It troubles my dreams so often that I find it difficult to live a normal life. It haunts me so painfully that I question if these memories are truly as false as they seem. Yet I oblige, walking with the ghost in this graveyard of memories.
"I did not expect to see you again. Not here, at least. I thought I would have to swim up and find you myself." Carefully, the small glowing orb begins to unravel in wisps of cerulean light to form a corporeal body, starting with the hand.
"Do you see that?" It points at a sunken library in the distance. "That is where we first met. Well, not us. Somebody else. But you probably do not remember them."
A glimpse of that life seizes me. I remember that library. I see it in my dreams all the time. "I remember them. I remember them very well." I tell the ghost. "I remember them helping with my first poem. I remember them smiling at a mirasol. But I do not remember being there—there is a gap in my…"
"A gap in your memory, yes. That is why I exist in the first place." The ghost's face weaves itself into reality with that same light, and with it came my realization as to why it deeply knows of me and my life. I sigh while grabbing the fishing spear that hangs on my back, knowing that this ghost could prove harder to kill the longer it stays.
"Put that down, please. I still have so much more to show you." The ghost walks ahead of me for a long, long time… and I follow without so much as a resistance.
For what seemed to me like aeons1 of walking and showing me what I now fully see is my life, the ghost finally speaks again. "What do you think of this expanse, Saranay?"
"I feel like I do not deserve to answer that question. Not anymore. You, of all people, should know that, Saranay." I tell the ghost, my spear still determined to pierce its heart. The ghost is what I left in this ocean, the me that experienced all that it showed.
"Come now. This expanse in front of you is your life, both past and present. Surely, you have more words than this."
"All I see in front of me are the dregs of past mistakes. If anything, this only fuels my drive to kill you."
"That is why you left it all on me, did you not? To rot in this watery grave so that you may forget that these events ever transpired. To live with a false peace in that strange village, lady by the sea and all."
"If you actually remember, I tried living with you for a while. I tried not to bury you here immediately. But I guess I grew tired, really tired, of tolerating you." My voice wavers, skin crawling for a semblance of understanding. My spear is still determined to pierce the ghost's heart. "You know, I was wondering. Can a murderer feel guilty for the crimes he was determined to commit? Because that is exactly what I am."
"All I know is that it does not make you less of a murderer. You still killed them, right? Well, not in the physical sense, but you understand." The ghost tells me. "No matter how many and what kind of changes or transformations you undergo, killing me the same way will not make things any different. Not now. Not ever."
"I know. I hope you wear white when you meet them again." Just like that, the spearhead finds itself embedded in its blue heart. "Do you think I will ever be forgiven?"
The ghost smiles at me. "You will never be forgiven, Saranay."
That same day, when I had returned ashore with my bangka. I saw a bird in the sky and witnessed no trace of the lady by the sea. I suppose I did not really kill the ghost.
"No, I don't think I will."
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