The Colony

For the seventh consecutive day, Alucard made his way through the gloomy waters of the river, steering his small boat in a somber silence, as if the entire world had conspired to drown him in this heavy stillness. The faint waves whispered beneath the boat, but they were nothing more than echoes of a deeper void, a void that stretched within him like the endless river. Seven days had passed, feeling like ages, each day carrying false promises of treasures or new discoveries, yet each time he returned empty-handed. The black hole in his heart grew deeper, and his sense that this world had nothing left to offer but disappointment intensified.

The gray fog enveloped the horizon, shrouding the river and the crumbling buildings lining its banks like ghosts from a bygone era. The water was murky, reflecting the dark sky where no trace of the moon could be seen, as if the heavens themselves had abandoned the world. The land on either side was barren, lifeless, mere remnants of a world that had lost its pulse long ago.

Alucard was seventeen years old, the same age the moon had disappeared, as if there were some mysterious connection between him and this eternal darkness. His soft white hair fell like storm clouds over his forehead, faintly glimmering in the pale daylight. His pale skin bore the marks of exhaustion, as if it were a page inscribed with all the suffering he had endured. His slender frame appeared fragile at first glance, but beneath that frailty lay a resilience forged through years of struggle against the cruelty this world had imposed on him. He wasn't tall enough to draw attention.

His eyes, black as ink, Saw, only shades of shadows that painted his bleak world. His thick eyebrows accentuated the intensity of his gaze, while his cracked lips no longer knew how to smile. His limbs were frozen from the cold, but the true chill was within him, in his heart, which now beat only with frustration.

He looked toward the horizon, then moved his lips softly, addressing his boat, which had become his only companion:

"The only things that remain constant... are these crumbling buildings, Exploratory journeys have become meaningless; there's nothing left worth striving for. Even the river... even it has been emptied of everything."

His words echoed across the water, as if confirming that nothing would change. With each stroke of the oar, he realized that this journey was no longer just a search for treasures, but a struggle against the void threatening to swallow the last living part of him.

The river continued to flow with each stroke, and as he approached the shore, the edges of the colony began to emerge gradually, as if stepping out of the fog that dominated the area. The ruined and distorted buildings appeared like specters submerged in shadows.

The boat hit the shallow shore, and the small waves pushed it forward slightly, until half of it settled in the mud and the other half remained afloat, resisting the drift. The docking area was merely an extension of the muddy ground, with no proper pier to hold even the simplest hope. Mud covered the entire place, a mix of scattered wood and small rocks that had been carved to become part of the landscape, a testament to a world in perpetual collapse. Some old boats, no longer seaworthy, lay on their sides like abandoned corpses, their fragile bodies overgrown with algae, remnants of the past scattered like corroded memories. The other boats, more intact, were tied with frayed ropes to wooden stakes driven into the mud. The stakes weren't strong enough to withstand time. He pulled his boat to those stakes and tied it firmly. It wasn't really necessary, as the water wasn't strong enough to carry it away, but habit governed his hands more than logic. He shook his head, then looked at the large gate ahead. His gaze wandered to the inscription above the gate, which no one cared about anymore, as it had been there since before the moon disappeared, serving only as a relic of a shattered past.

There were large gaps in the wall, but they didn't matter to anyone. There were no guards at the entrance; some people sat on the sidewalks, their eyes half-closed, no different from the shadows behind them. Alucard stepped through the gate, his eyes scanning the colony as if seeing it for the first time. He found an unusual gathering before him, seeing this many people crowded together so densely, their bodies pressed against each other, was anything but ordinary. Perhaps this was the moment he had been anticipating, the tipping point where the chaos he had expected over the past days would finally erupt. The exploratory journeys were the real reason for their decline. What they were suffering from wasn't just a lack of resources. It was much bigger than that.

He moved closer, slipping through the back rows until he could see the center of the gathering. There, on a makeshift wooden platform, stood Raiv, broad-chested, his blue eyes scanning the weary faces before him.

"When was the last time you thought about the sea?"

The voice that uttered this question was calm, but it reverberated in Alucard's ears like a thunderclap. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes fixed on the speaker as he tried to comprehend what was happening. The voice haunted his mind, but he couldn't respond or even move his body. The sea? He found himself whispering unconsciously, "What is he talking about?"

Raiv interrupted his thoughts, his voice heavy this time but charged with enthusiasm:

"That vast expanse, the endless blue. It used to reflect the sky, just as the calm surface reflects the water, and its color changed with the seasons, shifting from deep blue to vibrant green. If you looked closely, you could see the depths, the sand, even the tiny creatures swimming there, as if they were part of living natural paintings. It has become a distant memory, something we no longer talk about at night when we struggle to sleep. The sea was always there, before all of us. It was there when humans crossed it in ships searching for new lands, when they fought for it. The sea was a promise for those who sought to start anew."

Hearing these words, Alucard froze. The last phrase echoed in his mind as he silently wondered if there was any real meaning behind these words or if they were just empty talk.

"When was there ever something by that name that could be a promise?" Alucard whispered to himself, but he wasn't sure what he was saying or if he could even understand this promise. The sea was a strange concept to him, just a name or something with a history, something belonging to that old world he had never lived in.

There had never been anything in his life that carried the meaning of "a new beginning." There was only continuation—continuing to live, to work, to search for resources, to sleep and wake and move through the same colony.

There was nothing that could start anew.

"Nothing will change if you're looking for answers here."

The words pierced Alucard's ears amidst the large crowd. He turned quickly, expecting to find their source, only to be met by his mother, Lerin. She had always been as heavy as truth itself; her presence didn't need noise to make others feel its weight. Her words, as usual, struck like knives—precise, calculated, and leaving no room for error.

She looked at him with her dark brown eyes, carrying their usual weight, as if weighing him and everything around him. Her black hair was pulled back tightly, leaving no room for rebellion or falling onto her shoulders. Her clothes, though old, were clean and orderly, a testament to her discipline.

She had never cared about the past, as it was nothing more than an unchangeable trace. The present was what concerned her—the moment that could be seized, the decision that could be made. She wasn't cruel for no reason, nor was she soft when the situation didn't call for it. She was one of those who kept everything moving forward, not because they wanted to, but because they had no other choice.

When she spoke, she didn't raise her voice, but her words sank into him, just as they always had.

"You're here... Do you know what he's talking about?"

Lerin looked at him calmly. "Raiv is one of the founders of this colony, one of the brave ones who kept humanity together. He's always sought to help, to keep everyone under one roof."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He took a deep breath and spoke without hesitation. "Answer me about the sea."

She had expected this question. "The sea? Like all lost blessings... No one has the mental capacity to recall it as it was. It's just an idea, something like a touch of hope that Raiv is trying to plant in their heads, even if no one can truly picture it anymore."

Alucard: "Just an idea? Just a touch of hope? Is that what you've come to call it? What about its blue essence?"

Lerin: "We don't know what it's like now. It's no different from anything else we've lost."

Alucard: "But you know it well. Don't talk as if you don't understand."

Lerin: "My understanding won't change anything. Nor will yours. If you're waiting for Raiv to give you a new truth, he truly aspires to do so."

Alucard: "And you? Why are you here then?"

Lerin: "I'm observing."

Alucard: "You don't attend gatherings without a reason."

Lerin: "And you don't ask questions without a reason."

Alucard: "That's not an answer."

He paused for a moment, staring at her, searching for a crack in the wall of her words. There was none. There was only what she chose to say and what he couldn't choose.

Alucard: "Why does Raiv care about making it a memory? Are you all driven by it? Is it the oar of your boats?"

Lerin: "Because memory is stronger than truth for them. It helps them keep going. As humans, they need something to remember more than something to believe in. As for you, you don't need to believe that there was ever something more than this Alucard. You have no memories of it, you never knew it. These words might be necessary for others."

Alucard: "Does change need a reason?"

Lerin: "No, but sometimes it's enough for someone to talk about something that no longer exists for it to begin to exist again."

Alucard: "That's nonsense and unfair. And you? Are you moving with it? Does it suit you, to start anew?"

Lerin: "You've always been alone. My only new beginning."