There wasn’t much Captain Everhart hadn’t done yet. He had sailed the Celsian Sea more times than any other on the continent, delivered packages across the planet in record time, bought and sold almost every commodity known to man—in any and every settlement worldwide. And, perhaps most shockingly, he had done it all with the same crew. Not one casualty had ever happened aboard Everhart’s many ships, a feat attributed as much to Everhart as to the inseparable bond he held with his few shipmates.

But there was one thing he hadn’t done: Everhart had never sailed west. Had you asked him, he would have rambled on about the dangers of such a trip, or the uselessness of the endeavor. But, in truth, Everhart had never sailed west because he held a deep admiration for that unknown. It was a trip he could not do. At least, not in his current state.

“Everett!” called to him his drunk first mate after a fruitful month-long trip. “Err… I saw ye lookin’ a little gloomy! How’s about some uhhh… some good rum tonight, eh?”

Everhart smiled.

“Hit me, Tito.”

And then, once more, the crew drank until they couldn’t anymore. They drowned the bar in laughter, ate away half the menu, broke a bathroom door (and paid for it in full). And as he stumbled back home, Everhart laughed and thought about the west. A fool’s folly, maybe. Everhart fell asleep snugly in the street, after fumbling around with his room keys for half an hour. But his dreams were sobering hopes; inklings, visions of a big trip he had to brave alone.

Everhart’s days would sometimes blur into each other. One success after another, he amassed a wealth he didn’t need and heard the same stories of fierce battles with sea monsters for the millionth time. Sometimes, when the waves would quiet and the men drift off to sleep, he would stand in the crow’s nest and gaze at the water. How odd, he thought, that any given droplet of water could move as it pleased—anywhere in the ocean.

“Our masts are growing moss, sir. We should go back to the port,” warned one swab after a storm. Everhart nodded, in his usual quiet way. He knew the routine: cleanings every few months, and then more voyages, and then more cleaning. As he bent down to examine the deck, he thought he saw his own feet growing moss for a split second. He shook his head, steeled himself once more, and called for the navigator.

One morning, Everhart woke up with a strange feeling in his chest. The morning sun seemed a little more orange, a little more inviting. The empty streets seemed bustling with expectation. Something was coming. Something big. Everhart walked and walked, far beyond the port, until he reached a cliffside by the crashing sea. And then, his whole body trembling, Everhart whispered to the waves.

By the time the crew arrived at the port, there was no ship left to clean. It had slipped away in the cold morning air, and Everhart with it.

With blurry eyes and not much in the way of confidence, Everhart steered hard to starboard. As he left the port behind, and then the city, and then the country, the only thing he knew was that he had to keep going. He knew now what it was: it was a passionate need for change. It was a rebirth. He had to see what laid beyond, and he had to do it on his own. As he ran around the deck, balancing masts and course, it seemed like the only thing holding up his muscles was pure willpower: the energy of a child, eager for the future.

For months, he remained perpetually exhausted and perpetually in motion. The ship’s weather vane pointed exactly and perfectly westward. He would sometimes go days without eating. And yet, somehow, his writing became clearer: his diary entries were always marked by a persistent optimism, a burgeoning love that grew steadily with the days.

One night, Everhart awoke to a thunderous crash. It seemed the world itself was crumbling around him. He ran up to the deck to discover the ship had beached upon some atoll, upon some sea, somewhere. He walked out onto the sand, his feet wet and trembling and ghoulishly emaciated.

“Hello?” he yelled.

And a voice, somewhere, answered back.