The Last Word

By Andiamo

A letter found in a bottle, washed up on the shores of Calthrya on the Western coast.

Dario,

I pray this letter finds its way to you. Please tell mama that I love her and that I am sorry, for in all likelihood I will not make it back home.

It has been almost fifteen days since we sailed in the direction of the Port of Alorga, and I fear that we are lost at sea. What makes this situation we find ourselves in an absolute tragedy is the fact that we did succeed in reaching the shores of the Isle of Trachan. The sights we beheld there were beyond belief: chariots that flew in the sky, castles of smooth, grey metal and crystal, and beings which knew no sense of fear, fatigue, hunger or thirst. We were told that theirs was a land of abundance, where society had transcended the needs of the body while remaining within their very bodies.

There was much we learnt from them which would be of such great value to our homeland, though alas if we do not find our way back home, this knowledge will never be shared. To be free of the limitations of our physical bodies would set upon us a new age of prosperity!

One thing’s for sure, that old myth about no one ever being able to leave the Isle once they’ve visited it is an obvious lump of donkey shit. It is patently untrue, given we have been sailing west for the past two weeks. We may not have arrived back in Alorga, but we MOST CERTAINLY have left Trachan. So whatever our fate is, I hope that this letter categorically debunks that myth.

Our supplies are running low, and I myself haven’t eaten in days, although surprisingly I am still holding up well. Those Trachanians fed us well – and they did promise that that last banquet they served us would bring us back eventually for more.

I hope that we will make landfall soon. We have kept a strict bearing for the past two weeks so it makes very little sense that we took four days to sail out, and two weeks to get back.

I must have a word with the navigator, who seems to believe that the Trachanians tampered with his equipment. As if anyone would be able to change where the sun rises and sets, or where the stars sit in the night sky!

You must be wondering how I can be in such a verbose mood while in so harrowing a predicament. Well, as I’ve always told you, there’s nothing worse than making a bad situation worse by making yourself feel sad. It is almost a miracle that I am in fine physical form despite the lack of food and fresh water on this ship. Long may this last – we may yet live to find our way home.

But if we fail to, and if these are my last words to you, then please, lead a full life, take care of mama and never forget that you are deeply loved.

With much love,

Your beloved brother