Thalassophobia - "The Missing Words"

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of water leaking from cracks in the ceiling slowly drove me to delirium.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

For how long was I supposed to endure this excruciating torment?

Drip, plink. Drip, plink.

The water had begun to coalesce into an unsavory puddle on the floor of the chamber, making an obnoxious "plink" noise every time a droplet had cascaded from above my head. 

I had to find a way out.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

I was certain. Only scarce minutes separated my existence from termination in this confined assortment of stone slabs, surely the result of meticulous construction by an ignorant smith. No soul with a single modicum of empathy for the lives of others would willingly contribute to the construction of this byzantine labyrinth. This was far from my first excursion into the Graurprinz's warren, but it was my first time coming alone. 

Drip, plink. Drip, plink. Drip, plink.

I had experience navigating these abandoned webs of tunnels and chambers, but something has changed since the last time I delved into this ash-gray world. The Graurprinz had outlandish tastes in architecture, but never anything this sadistic. What could have caused the metamorphosis of this place?

Driiiiip, plonk.

A singular droplet of water landed directly on my forehead as I stared at the ceiling, contemplating my next course of action. A small laugh, like a scream from the incorrigible, escaped my mouth. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I laughed until my lungs hurt and my chest heaved and I struggled to breathe. But still, I laughed.

Drip...

By now, it was clear that no escape from this detestable room existed.

Driiiiip...

I continued laughing, even though it no longer produced sound. The echoes of my voice remained in the room, as if taunting me.

Drip.....

"I want to leave... I want to be let out... I want to see everyone again..."

Drip...........

As I bemoaned my situation, a voice spoke in my mind. Words that I had heard before, but reflected from my mind with the typical banter the two of us shared. 

"Helplessness is ever the fate of effete. Feebleness and vulnerability adorn their souls like badges worn on a soldier's vest with pride. You will one day find yourself in a world that has abandoned you. A world in which neither salvation nor guidance shall ever hear your cries for assistance. In this world exists naught but a single path to triumph. Your mind is your single greatest asset. It is both that which limits and that which facilitates. The end, and the beginning. What is real, and what is imagined. The self, and the world. If you cannot find any fragments of information with which to piece together your freedom in the external world, you must look inward. Therein lies your freedom."

I gazed upon the wall in front of me. There existed a door, but a lock was nowhere to be found. A table without legs. A bird without wings. A book without words. A man without a heart. A world without people. That was the situation I found myself in.

"Inward..."

I thought back to the words he said to me, long before he had left. He often spoke of the external world and the internal world, a concept I had long dismissed as rumination without substance. He was often guilty of that, loathe as he is to admit it.

Newton's third law. Equal and opposite reactions. For every movement you make, you release an equal, but opposite force on something in turn. When you push an object, it pushes you back, dragging your feet through the loose dirt. When you strike an object, that force strikes you back, reverberating throughout your body. When you speak to somebody with words, they respond with words. 

There exists an opposite for everything that exists in the world. If you strike, your enemy will defend. If you tell someone the truth, they will tell you a lie. If no answer exists in the external world... Then it must exist in the internal. 

A sudden recollection ambushed my train of thought. A memory. I was standing amidst a gathering of enormous magnolia trees, far from the clearing the other kids were playing in. Although this forest was also encapsulated by the illimitable walls of the castle, it was the closest I had felt to true freedom in my time in the fortress of the dark lord. 

...Why had I always distanced myself from the other children? It hurts my head when I try to think about it, so I don't. 

All I know for sure is that none of them had ever found me in my furtive haven, aside from one. Perhaps it was because he was next in line to the throne, but it seemed as though keeping secrets from someone like him was completely and utterly pointless. He'd walk across the perimeter of the battlement, only to sit a fair dozen feet away from me, and just watch the others in reticence. What was he doing, if he wasn't going to talk to me? Why come all this away, so far from the others, if only to invade my space with his silence? I never could understand him. Despite that, I could tell, he cared about the people living in the castle, each and every one of us.

"...Why don't you come with me for a change? I'm certain anything would be better than remaining in the confines of these walls for the rest of your life."

I remembered his words from the first and only time that we spoke. For some reason, back then, he truly aggravated me. He spoke to me insouciantly, as if he had done it a thousand times before. I despise those who speak with a self-assured sense of pride, who act as if they know someone. The journey of self understanding is an arduous quest that takes a lifetime, so what makes you think you could know anything about a person whom you've never even spoken to?

Contrary to my own feelings, however, I found myself approaching him. Perhaps this was his intention all along. No matter how I felt about him personally, anything would be better than being emmeshed in the daily to day life of the castle for eternity. 

As I strode towards him, I remained careful not to meet his eyes. I despised the idea of providing him with any gratification whatsoever. However, that feeling quickly away wilted like a black dahlia flower in the sun when I began to speak with him.

"I thought about what you said to me... I'll come with you, just this once."

Simple words. Nothing else needed to be said between the two of us. He stood silently, and curled the edges of his mouth into an enigmatic imitation of a smile. I think that's the most he was capable of.

A certain feeling of discomfort bubbled up from deep within my bosom and made its way to my head, but seemed to get lost on the way there. That must have been the first time that I truly understood sovereignty. 

The Grauerprinz took me to a wide, circular stone object, cradled deeply into the firm soil we walked upon. I stared in amazement as he wordlessly beckoned me towards a small hole in the massive stone disc, and followed him into it.

We walked together as he guided me through the seemingly endless myriad of tunnels and chambers. Inside these rooms were countless oddities. Exotic curios and hefty books with covers written in a language that I had never seen. The distance between us as a soldier and the prince had begun to announce itself to me louder and louder with every step we took through the ashen maze.

Occasionally, he would skip a room. These rooms had locks, much the same as the room I find myself in now. Though I cannot place full trust in everything I saw, as my eyes had yet to become fully accustomed to the darkness, I know for sure that he had missed those rooms intentionally. Ever since that day, I had always wondered what he could have possibly kept in those rooms. ...I never thought that I would find myself the victim of their pertinacious grasp. 

One final memory brandished its existence before my mind.

One room. There was one, singular locked room that the prince opened before me. I watched his lips form words and speak with enthusiasm, but no sound was emitted. It was as if, for the few seconds that he spoke, the world and all its sounds had been dissolved like the leaf of a black dahlia being disintegrated upon the surface of a pond.

However, I know that was not the case.

Sounds continued their ever cacophonic melody as he spoke. The sound of the gravel shifted under my boots as I adjusted my balance. The sound of blood rushing through my head as I held my breath. The sound of his nails digging into his skin, threatening to draw blood. The only sound missing was... The words. I don't know what he said, but as he spoke them, I watched as two carved stone halves split in twain and slowly dragged across the floor into the walls, burgeoning thick dust that obfuscated my vision. 

I don't remember what I saw that day. I don't remember what I heard that day. I don't remember what I felt that day. All I remember, is...

I finished reminiscing on the past as I stood in front of the impassable door. I don't know how long I stood there in deep contemplation, but it must have been a long time. By the time that I had found my answer, the water level in the chamber had risen to my knees. Putrid water infiltrated my hand-sewn trousers from every possible orifice, but I didn't care. I was finally going to escape.

I braced myself and tried to imitate the peculiar atmosphere that I ever associated with that man. I separated my lips and spoke with clarity the phrase,

"‎‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "

The impassable door in front of me laggardly revealed my freedom, as if lamenting my escape. I had to escape quickly, as I was unsure how long it would take anyone to notice my absence. If I failed to extricate myself with haste, I may never see the light of day again. 

Water spilled out of the chamber like blood from a wound as I sprinted down the ash-gray halls as quickly as I could. 

Please, hold tight, everyone. I'm finally coming home.