My mind raced. Was I being pulled into some elaborate hoax? Was this just some old relic made to look ancient? The more I looked at the words, the less I was sure. Could someone have written this as a joke? To mess with me? Maybe I was just overthinking it—mythology was just folklore, after all. Stories spun out of legends, to make sense of the world.

  Still, the words on the page felt too real. Too... alive.

  I glanced up at Elliot, who was still on the deck, messing with his gear like nothing had happened. I felt a sudden wave of uncertainty, but I shoved it aside. It was just a note. Just a weird piece of paper that didn’t make sense, like some odd artifact someone had dropped in the water.

  But something in my gut told me it wasn’t that simple. And that bothered me. A lot.

  I rolled the parchment back up, the chill from before still crawling along the back of my neck. There was a gnawing thought in the back of my mind—a question I couldn’t quite shake. Why did it feel so... real? Like this wasn’t just some old, discarded scrap but something I was supposed to pay attention to.

  I shoved it back into the bottle, sealing it with the cap, trying to push the strange thoughts away. This was just a weird find, a fluke. Maybe some artist had made it as part of a diving expedition or some themed exhibit. There were people who did that—created fake relics, dropped them into the sea, and watched as people like me found them. Hell, maybe it was all just a marketing stunt for a new movie or some viral campaign. Whatever it was, I’d find out later.

  I turned my attention back to the boat and Elliot, who was still working on his gear, completely unfazed by the oddity I’d just discovered. He’d probably just shrug it off, too. I could already imagine him cracking a joke about me finding "ancient treasures" like I always did on these dives. He didn’t care much for the weird stuff I sometimes pulled up. It was more of a sport to him—diving for sport, diving for the challenge. Me? I liked the idea of uncovering lost things, things that had stories to tell. Even if those stories were long gone, forgotten.

  I could feel the sun starting to dip lower, the sky turning from a clear blue to a palette of warm, golden hues. The water shimmered, reflecting the colors like a mirror, and for a moment, I just stared out at the horizon, letting the silence wash over me.

  “Alright,” I finally said, stowing the bottle back in my bag and moving toward the engine. “We should probably head in. It’s getting late.”

  Elliot didn’t answer right away, and I glanced back to see him still standing there, frowning at something in his hands.

  “Elliot?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He looked up, blinking. “Huh? Yeah, sure. Just... thought I heard something.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “What, like a ghost or something?”

  He snorted and shrugged. “Nah, nothing like that. Just... felt a weird vibe. Like something’s been watching me, you know?”

  I chuckled, though the unease I’d felt earlier started to crawl back. “Maybe you’ve been diving too long, man. You’re starting to believe in that shit.”

  Elliot didn’t answer right away, just gave me a look that said more than words could. He didn’t say anything else as we packed up, the rest of the evening passing without incident. But I couldn’t shake that feeling. Like I was standing on the edge of something I couldn’t quite understand, but would have to soon.

  But the truth was, I couldn’t forget about the message inside. There was something in those strange, ancient words that refused to be ignored. Something calling me.

  "I can't promise you safety or any comfort in my presence..."

  The words on the parchment still burned in my mind, repeating in my head like a mantra. I can't promise you safety or any comfort in my presence... It was absurd. Who wrote that? And why? Who would even bother to leave such a message in a bottle, of all places? I shook my head, trying to force the nagging feeling aside. Maybe it was just a random scrap of paper, left to confuse me. A joke. A practical joke by someone who had a little too much time on their hands.

  I started the engine, the low rumble of the motor filling the silence between Elliot and me. He was staring out over the water, fidgeting with his gear. The unease in my gut hadn’t settled. There was something about the day that felt off. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that we weren’t alone out here.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  And that thought only grew stronger when the sky began to darken.

  At first, it was just the clouds. A distant, grey smear across the horizon, faint at first but quickly spreading. Then came the wind—a sharp, biting gust that whipped across the water, unsettling the boat and making the waves crash harder against the hull. My eyes flicked nervously at the sky, watching the clouds gather, dark and angry.

  A storm was coming.

  “Hey, we should probably head back now,” I called out to Elliot, but the words barely made it past my lips before a low rumble of thunder rolled across the sea.

  He turned to me, his brow furrowing. “You think we’ll make it back before it hits?”

  “I don’t know. But we should try,” I said, already feeling the tug of the storm pulling at us. I didn’t want to be caught out here when it came down hard. We hadn’t dived this far out, but the waves were picking up quickly, and I didn’t trust the Sea when it decided to change its mind.

  I throttled the engine forward, trying to head back toward the marina, but the waves had already begun to churn, rising up and crashing with increasing intensity. The boat rocked wildly as we fought against the growing swell. I could feel the tension tightening in my chest as the wind howled louder, the sky darkening further.

  “Shit!” I cursed under my breath as the boat jerked violently. I barely had time to react when the first wave hit us—an enormous, dark wall of water that came crashing down, nearly throwing us off course. The boat lurched sideways, and I gripped the wheel, trying to keep us from capsizing.

  “Hold on!” I shouted at Elliot, who was already bracing himself, but it didn’t seem to matter. The storm had taken over in an instant, and the waves were relentless, each one bigger and stronger than the last. I could feel the boat being tossed like a toy in the hands of the sea.

  The storm's fury was relentless. Waves crashed against the boat, each one more forceful than the last. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to keep control. I managed to steady myself again, my hands gripping the side of the boat so tightly my knuckles were white. My breath came in shallow bursts, but I couldn’t afford to panic. Not now. The lifejacket was just out of reach, mocking me with its proximity.

  Suddenly, a wave smashed directly into the side of the boat, drenching me in a torrent of icy water. The shock jolted me back into focus, the cold searing through my clothes and skin. This wasn’t just a bad storm—it was something worse. Something… unnatural.

  I couldn’t afford to let this turn into a disaster. If I didn’t get control of the situation, there was no telling what would happen. My gaze darted to the lifejacket again, but before I could make a move, something flickered on the horizon. A light—faint and fleeting, like a spark in the darkness. My breath hitched as it appeared again, unmistakable this time.

  What the hell was that?

  The water churned violently, almost alive, the waves towering higher as if the Sea itself had turned against me. It felt like the sea was guiding me, forcing me toward that light. Panic flared, but my curiosity dug its claws into me, refusing to let go.

  "Stay calm," I muttered to myself, my voice barely audible over the howling wind and crashing waves. I couldn’t let fear control me. Not now.

  “The sea does not give, nor does it take,” a voice whispered, threading through the storm like a forgotten truth. It was soft yet powerful, each word laced with an unsettling clarity. “It waits and watches. The horizon is an illusion; the path is one of choice. Will you choose to sail or drown?”

  I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The words were sharp, otherworldly, curling into my ear with an intimacy that made my skin crawl. The storm seemed to swell in response, the wind and waves roaring as if they were alive.

  No. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. The storm was playing tricks on me, twisting my senses, pushing me to the edge. I needed to focus.

  The voice came again, softer this time but no less commanding. “The storm will end, but you must find your own way to it.”

  Her voice—because it was a her, wasn’t it?—felt like silk against my skin, a strange mix of comfort and danger. My mind spun. Was I losing it? Assigning a gender to a hallucination? The storm, the stress—it was all too much. It had to be a trick, a cruel fabrication born of panic and exhaustion.

  The light on the horizon flared again, brighter now, pulsing like a heartbeat. The sea roared in response, the boat lurching violently to one side. I stumbled, my hands scrambling for the lifejacket. I finally grabbed it, pulling it on and securing it tightly, just as another wave hit, this one even larger than the last.

  The boat tilted dangerously, the edge dipping into the water. I lost my footing, my grip slipping from the railing. The world spun, saltwater blinding me as the Sea swallowed me whole.

  For a moment, everything was chaos—cold, crushing chaos. My limbs flailed as I fought to surface, but the current pulled at me, dragging me deeper. Above me, the light pulsed again, cutting through the darkness like a beacon. My lungs burned, and my mind screamed for air, but the voice—her voice—cut through the panic.

  “Find your way, sailor. The storm chooses no sides.”

  The words wrapped around me as the current released its grip, and I shot upward, gasping as I broke the surface. The storm raged on, but the light on the horizon remained, brighter than ever. My boat was nowhere to be seen, swallowed by the storm’s wrath.

  I was adrift, alone in the churning sea, but that light… it was calling me. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t fight the pull.

  And deep down, I knew. The truth was waiting for me, but my final thought in all this was that Elliott at least made it home safe, and didn’t feel guilty over this.