Full of peril and of death, at least
He loosened the straps that held his peg to what was left of his right leg and examined the stars to get his bearings. Many had died tonight, he was determined not to be another. His ship and his crew had sailed south for at least two months before the wind died. That was yesterday, now he was alone. Alone without a crew to hinder his progress, and as the wind finally caught the sail of his long boat, hopefully steering it towards the shore, he looked back, towards the horizon, at his burning ship. The ship he had set aflame before stealing away with the only long boat. At least, his crew wasn’t freezing anymore.
Happy to have the quiet, and knowing it wouldn’t last, he tried to enjoy it. Then, on que, and before he finished the thought…
“That was as rude as it was calculated.” She said. The voice came from the almost apathetic woman who appeared suddenly at the front of the boat. She was gazing back at the fire. The flames illuminated her pale skin.
“Perhaps, they’re better off. What if there’s only one? You’re free of them, at least.” She sighed.
“...but not free of you, and how lucky we both are, for this harlot’s curse.” He said, trying to evade her, scanning the boat, looking for anything to occupy his mind. She went away when he was busy, if the itching stopped, but a chill ran through the wind, and he was resigned only to tighten the fur lining of his coat. She’ll have to haunt my dreams too, he thought.
…It was the thud of the boat hitting land that woke him. The moon, as the sun never came here, was bright, almost happy to see him, but it was freezing. On first appearance, he hadn’t found land at all. He knew enough to realize he had no clue. He was either the first man here or the only man still living. People, of course, had warned him when he asked about the lamp from the south. They warned he would never find the cave. Most told of monsters that roamed the ice islands, others said he would fall off the side of the earth, but everyone recited a cautionary tale, full of peril and of death. He believed no one. He was calculated, with no liking for the prison of superstition, but always, of an open mind. It’s true. For his time and profession, the Captain was a learned man, but mostly just a greedy one. After all, what else would compel a man to sail to the map’s edge and then further? He would tell you, he likened himself as more than just a harbinger of pillage and destruction; he was a lion, his greed the lioness, their conquests were merely sustenance. Though, when he drinks, he’s also quite dramatic.
“You’re so jaded.” She said. He wasn’t fully awake yet, but she was easy to ignore in the mornings.
“You’re not even satisfied we found land.” She added and jumped out onto the ice.
“I’ll be satisfied when we find the lamp.” He said, squinting, trying to find a landmark. His eyes came into focus and he examined the ice terrain before him. It looked sturdy enough to support his weight, and so, he lifted his peg over the side of the boat and placed it firmly on the ice. The ice cracked slightly, and he noticed a puddle gathering, it submerged a portion of his peg, but the floor was holding. With hazard, he attempted the step to land and was successful. He took a few slow steps, and noticed his peg was sticking to the ground, slightly freezing with every step. It was helping to keep his footing. Confidently, the captain pushed forward, walking south. He smiled, happy to be “alone” at least.
“I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s obviously far.” She warned.
“Your peg, it’s frozen all ready.” She added.
“Oh, grow a spine, grow anything.” He said, mumbling, because he knew all ready. It was apparent with each step; the peg was freezing harder to the ice. Each time, it was harder to pull up, to keep his balance and then to take that next step. His last was quickly approaching, the peg would freeze solid to the ground soon.
“Grow a leg.” She said. He could only laugh, and they walked awhile together, towards what we can only assume will be his death. Fittingly, after some time, a blizzard began, and the wind blew the snow around. He could hardly see the faint outline, the shadow of an entrance. It had to be the cave, he thought, and he stopped to focus through the snow. It just had to be.
He was standing in front of the entrance, composing himself, and somewhat relieved, when he realized the peg was frozen stiff. He had stood still for too long. And so, with little thought, the Captain loosened the straps that held his peg to what was left of his right leg. He wouldn’t need it, that is, if he found the lamp.
“It will make a fitting tombstone, I think.” She said, as he removed the straps and made to balance one legged on the ice, but the blizzard swept and instantly blew him off his footing. He fell, flat foot and face down. Stubbornly, he tightened the fur lining of his coat and proceeded towards the entrance, resigned to “walk” using his left knee. He was fortunate there were few steps left in his journey.
The cave was dark, hollow, and hardly warmer. He was exhausted, at least the cave floor collapsed before he did. He only heard the rush, then landed safely on his end, he opened his eyes, finally to realize, he was staring at the lamp. It was resting atop the rubble, waiting. He jerked towards it, crawling like a madman. With the last of his strength he reached to grab it and pulled it close to his breast. He was caressing its polished edges, when suddenly, the cave shook, and a rattling ran throughout. He dropped the lamp and crawled backwards towards the wall as he watched it rising, suspended in the air. The sound grew unbearable, he was covering his ears in pain, when suddenly, the sound stopped, and a genie appeared.
“Damn, it’s cold.” The genie said, annoyed. Yet, the genie immediately regretted his curtness and tried to cover.
“I’m sorry. Hello, I see you found me, but please be brief. What’s your name and only one of you?” He said, almost apologetically.
“Yes, I’m the Captain, and I’m alone.”
“Never say that.” She said, pretending to pout and sitting at his foot.
“Indeed, yes, alone. Interesting, one never knows, but wait, oh, I do see another.” The genie said.
“You see her too?” He asked, almost relieved.
“If you wish.” The genie laughed and continued.
“I see her, through you…I wonder if that makes you a man at all?” The genie was forgetting his feigned kindness.
“I like him, a lot.” She said.
“I don’t wonder anymore.” The Captain said, defending his wit before his manhood.
“Yes, you just wander. What a difference a vowel makes in a verb. Please, hurry.” The genie said.
“Do I have a wish?” He asked.
“Somewhat, what’s your problem?” The genie insisted.
“I just want a leg.”
“How simple, yes. I can do that, of course…well…not to get too specific. A couple millennia back, I made a vow to myself, after an unfortunate turn of events, I mean after certain life lessons, I decided to stop being a wish giver, and instead; a problem solver. So please, if you could, state your problem.” The genie insisted again.
“I take it back. I don’t like him anymore.” She said, turning despondently to examine a rock.
“What should I say is my problem?” He asked the genie, annoyed now too. The genie deliberated hurriedly and tried to answer.
“Something like, ‘Oh genie, please help me, I cannot walk.’ And I can, as I’ve said, solve the problem.” The genie replied.
“Wouldn’t you just give me gills and fins then? So, I could swim. You’re a trickster, it’s why you’re here. I’ve read the stories.” He argued, determined not to be swindled by the patronizing “problem solver” who lived for all eternity in a lamp at the bottom of an arctic cave. Understandably, the genie was offended and quickly started ranting.
“Why does everyone think that? As if we’re that literal, like we’re just shouting across lamps about another human we fooled. It’s the stereotypes that plague…”
“Oh genie, I cannot walk” The Captain interrupted, worried he’d freeze before ever making his wish.
“Thank you, I’m happy to solve your problem.” The genie said, before disappearing with a crack. The cave groaned as before, and he heard the genie’s voice echo from above.
“Of life and limb.
A peg forgiven.
And though the weight...
Let our Captain, walk to heaven”
She was the last thing he saw before losing consciousness. She was waving goodbye. In what felt like an instant, he came to, staring at his new right leg and sitting on the ice in the moonlight. He moved his right toes, then, hesitantly, he looked around. The boat was steps way, and she was nowhere to be seen. He smiled.
“That was surprisingly cryptic.” He said, to no one now, happy to be alone and anxious to walk. With little effort, he stood up, as if he’d never missed a step, and for the first time in our story, the Captain walked with both legs. Unfortunately, and, perhaps it’s because he felt lighter, but he failed to consider the additional weight of his new leg on the ice. If doing so, he would’ve taken more caution when stepping towards the boat. He was stepping towards the ice that had cracked earlier, towards shaky ground. And, as he took his last step, lifting his left leg up into the boat, at least, he never heard the crack. He only heard the rush and then the quiet. I imagine, he’s still smiling.