"A crab?"
Aaron, who was still flummoxed by what had just occurred, stumbled backwards in shock, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Before he could even process what he had just seen, the wheel slammed hard to the left, the compass beside it whirring until it aligned with one specific direction.
West…? H-how did it know…
He stopped the thought dead in its tracks, a new idea coming to mind like a firework of fresh hope.
W-will it really take me home? If so, then this thing is amazing!
A smile made its way wide across the boy's face, the glowing of the deck slowly fading away, leaving only the sails high above to glimmer radiantly.
Rubbing the top of his head where he had smashed into the cabin ceiling, he walked towards the railing that overlooked the rear of the ship.
The dark waves were mixed with tiny broken fragments of ice, their size rapidly shrinking as if the water was too warm for them to exist.
Why is there ice in the—
His breath caught, a pale, horrified expression coming over his face as he stumbled backwards in memory.
There was a place in the world that all humans knew of, a dangerous den of death and despair that claimed the lives of even the strongest of Sea Kings.
The Abyss, the birthplace of thousands of myths and legends of the most treacherous descriptions.
Ancient monsters beyond humanity's understanding roamed without control, their power surpassing that of logic itself.
However, while these Apex predators were considered creatures on par with the Sea Kings, there were certain tales of a natural enemy.
Vessels known as "Ghostships," each wielded by one of the Seven Sea Kings, had untold powers that could rival these creatures in even the grandest of battles.
These very ships hunted terrors without fear of destruction, the foe of monsters everywhere, and the protectors of humanity.
While much information surrounding the ships was based in the murky mist of the unknown, textbooks and articles written by the Sea Kings allowed insight into their inner workings.
These rulers throughout history described the Ghostships as seemingly having wills of their own, as if the forgotten sailors of old had come back to haunt their former home.
It had never been confirmed by any of the lords; however, to Aaron, who stood staring at the burning sails above, the story stood out from all the rest.
T-this couldn't possibly be… No… That's crazy…
He swallowed hard, his head shaking in disbelief, the possibility too absurd to even have a fragment of truth.
All of the Ghostships are occupied by Sea Kings! There's no way this is one of them! Plus, I've never heard of one with turquoise sails before.
Convincing himself silently, another thought came to mind that left him close to a hundred percent certain of the impossibility.
Plus, this thing is too small and puny to hunt anything larger than a fish! There's no way it could fight a sea terror in the Abyss!
Chuckling to himself, he began to descend the stairs, returning to the main deck with a slight tremble in his hands.
But that crab… Is that what they mean by the spirits of dead sailors haunting their ships? If that's so, then…
He paused, staring silently into the darkness.
The village elders would know… They always seemed to treat me differently from the others, so it's possible they know something.
Biting his lip, he remembered a certain man who docked himself on their island every couple of years for a reunion with a friend.
While they occasionally had visitors from the neighboring island of Stone Haven, this guest was significantly more important.
For he, unlike all others, was one of the Seven Sea Kings.
Orion Cosmoti, the ruler of the Sea of Curses and the emperor of the Cosmoti Archipelago, which he had liberated only a few years prior.
As the fifth-ranked Sea King and also the newest, he was a figure of great pride for the younger generations alongside his Ghostship.
The name of the Ghostship itself had never been revealed, its secret hidden and carefully guarded by its captain and crew.
It was rumored to be a ship with emerald green sails of flame, the dark hull covered in ancient runes so ancient that even the Great King of Curses himself could not decipher them.
The origins of such vessels were a complete mystery; however, given their strange ties with the Divine, theories that they were forged by the gods themselves spread far and wide.
"If this is really one of those ships, then…"
Aaron's turquoise eyes stared ahead, the thick layers of icy gray fog breaking away to be replaced with a deep crimson.
I'll seek out Lord Cosmoti… He will be able to tell me the truth.
Clenching his fist tight, he thought more intently about where he actually was, the strange change from gray fog to red sticking with him oddly.
Could it be the Abyss?
Taking a deep breath in, then out, he shook his head, throwing out the preposterous idea like it was garbage.
No. Only one person has ever gone in and come back alive, and nobody even knows what happened to him after…
What the blond-haired boy was referring to was the legendary adventure of the most famous man in history, a King so powerful that he was widely considered the first in strength throughout all of history.
The First Sea King, a man whose name had been lost to time itself after a mysterious disaster that occurred within the Library of Nautilus decades ago.
However, even without a name, his achievements stood tall with celebrations held around the world every year on January 1st, the very same day he returned from the Abyss centuries ago.
Children were taught that if they were naughty, the First King would come and punish them, and if they were good, he would bring them prosperity.
If someone were to appear with the Mark of the First, then they should kneel without question, a legacy of endless prestige living on long after the man's disappearance.
Considered the closest beings to a true deity, he had been recorded to slay Apex-terrors in seconds, their bodies erased with a single flick of his hand.
After his return from that hellish sea, however, something had changed about him; the diary pages salvaged from the burnt Library of Nautilus were the only insight into his life.
While the pages did not detail what he had seen, something had changed him, something that would result in him returning to the Abyss only a few years after he had finally left it.
From that day forward, nobody ever saw him or his Ghostship ever again, his title and authority remaining in place out of respect.
Long thought dead, he was treated as an international hero, the Sea of Ancients being gifted to him as a monument to his life.
Everything that Aaron knew about that man told him instinctively that the place he was located was not that Abyss, the mere thought making the boy laugh aloud.
Yet as he began to chuckle, his eyes picked up a faint outline in the far distance, his posture picking up at the sight.
L-land!
Rushing around the deck, he grabbed a rope and quickly tied it around his waist as tightly as he could.
Attaching the other end around the thick mast, he rushed towards the very tip of the bow, his balance carefully weighed to make sure even if he fell, the rope would catch him.
Leaning forward as far as he could, he narrowed his eyes, slowly making out a shape in the distance.
"An island!"
Aaron shouted out the words quickly, his arms flailing upward in celebration before he could even look closer.
Looking over the coastline, he could see what appeared to be ruined structures that resembled docks, rotted wood, and stone spread far across the beach.
What happened here?
Watching as the shape in the distance became larger and larger, he prepared to disembark from the vessel, only one lingering problem remaining.
H-how do I stop this thing?
Ahead of him, a massive sand bank covered in rocks tore through the water, the ship on course to ram straight into it.
Slamming his hands downward, he hurried to untie the tight bind he had wrapped around himself, the thick rope feeling like an unbreakable wire.
"C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!"
The ship plowed forward, the ever-approaching rocks making his eyes widen in fear, his hands working faster than he could keep track of.
I-It won't budge!
Aaron's entire body shook with terror; however, he couldn't give up yet, the final solution he had left coming out of his throat in a scream.
"AWAKEN, OH LOST SHIP OF THE SEA!"
Attempting the same chant that had started the ship, he prayed for a miracle, one that even with his wishes, didn't come.
Beginning to panic, he squirmed with all his might, the approaching doom reflecting in his turquoise eyes.
'DAMMIT!"
Bracing for impact, he yelled out the last thing he could, his life in the hands of this last resort.
"ANCHOR!"
Such an idea was ridiculous; the thought that a magical ship could listen to speech, understand it, and then act on it was practically a child's fantasy.
Yet, in this unknown world of illusory turquoise light, such dreams could become reality, the sound of the anchor dropping at maximum speed resounding through the air.
The howl of the hull and groan of the wheel locking echoed throughout the foggy region, the turquoise runes glowing with a renewed radiance.
Gusts of wind slammed against Aaron's face, the sound of gulls in the sky breaking the terrified trance that he was stuck in.
I-I'm okay?
Opening the eyes he had shut tightly out of fear, he stared ahead of him, the piercing rocks only centimeters from the hull.
I-It really worked! This boat listened to what I had to say!
Trying again to untie the ropes on his body, a sudden thought burst through his mind that might actually work.
"Coil."
In an instant, the rope turned slack, the fiber dropping to the ground and wrapping itself into a coil.
T-this is… Incredible!
Climbing off the bow and back to the main deck, he finally relaxed, the comfort of the solid wood a soothing presence after nearly steering into his own death.
However, as he stared out at the jungle-like island in the distance, he couldn't get the image of the turquoise vessel out of his mind; the idea of what it truly was stuck in his brain.
The vessel that he had awoken on was truly one of those mysterious Ghostships spoken of in myth; the one he currently wielded had been lost to time, gradually losing its power, leading to it returning back into a primitive sailing ship.
That would explain why it's so weak…
Laughing slightly, the true authority of the boat he now wielded echoed through his head like a drum.
The Kings were public with the ability to deter sea terrors with the presence of a Ghostship, a seamless ward emitting from its hull.
His weakened version could likely only steer away the beasts for a short period of time and only for the weakest variety, and while being less than optimal, it was still better than nothing.
Only beginning to guess at the truth of this ancient boat, an idea stuck out among the rest, a theory that had been growing in the back of his mind.
What if he could grow the strength of the Ghostship, and by proxy, himself?
I might be able to return it back to its former glory…
Tightening his fist at his side, he stared up at the helm, an illusory light resembling a crab standing on the wheel.
Aaron dreamed of adventure, a freedom away from the binding and boring life he had lived in his homeland.
Now, a chance presented itself in its fullest, a single hope that could change his life as no other could.
I'll grow my strength, and when I'm done, I'll be able to call myself…
He paused, the bright light of the sun finally breaching the white, puffy clouds in the heavens above.
A King of the Sea.