I forgot his faults, forgave him,
He still my explaining asks for.
— Aniruddha Pathak



With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head to the water's edge, the brackish scent of the ocean filling his nostrils.

This was suicide.

...

He was happy for it.

One after the other, Ghazal’s bronzed legs carried him forward into the unrelenting sea. A cold, salty wind whipped his tangled mane in a cowl around his face, stinging his skin as if in punishment.

The beach was empty, save for the birds. The peregrines, with their keen eyes, watched him — seemingly with contempt, as if they knew the gravity of his decision and quietly mocked him for it. They were the guardians of this place, and Ghazal couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for the freedom of their wings. With a scowl, his gaze refocused on the gloomy horizon.

If he failed, his soul would swim in the deeps like those sentinels flew through the sky.

Liberation.

The channel stretched before him, as vast and unpredictable as life itself. Its waters were a turbulent blend of memories and challenges, and he was about to plunge back into its depths alone. He could taste the salt in the air, like an old friend turned bitter and distant.

And what if he succeeded?

He had done this swim before — but that was a lifetime ago, when the blood in his veins ran hot and fast and unburdened by the weight of simply living.

Memories flooded back to him as he swam, resurfacing like specters in the dark water. He remembered the warmth of the sun on his back and the laughter of his friends echoing in his ears. He remembered their faces, their voices.

He saw them sink beneath the unforgiving waves, eyes wide and white and pleading.

Saltwater frothed and churned around him as he swam, his body hidden below the roiling surface save for the scarred, battered profile of his head. His eyes burned in their sockets, the sharp pain digging into his skull with each slop of the waves over his brow.

The island loomed on the horizon, a dark silhouette against the waning light of the day. It was a place of legends, of mysteries, and of whispered tales that haunted the lonely travelers who dared to venture its way.

The waves conspired against him, growing larger and more tumultuous with each passing minute. They rose like ancient titans, threatening to engulf him in their icy embrace. Ghazal's breath came in ragged gasps, and his limbs ached with exhaustion. He wondered if this was the punishment he had been seeking all along — a slow, agonizing descent into the abyss.

Yet, somewhere in the recesses of his battered soul, a flicker of determination remained. It was the ember of a once-burning fire that had fueled his relentless quest for vengeance. But now, it was different. It whispered to him of a new purpose, a chance to rebuild and renew, to find meaning in a life that had been consumed by darkness.

As the shore faded further into the distance behind him, Ghazal closed his eyes tight against the salt spray for one precious moment, imagining a day long past when the gentle rocking of the waves cradled him like a child. He thought of those he had lost, of the faces that haunted his dreams, and spat their names into the water flooding his mouth.

Then, a silent prayer for forgiveness.

The island drew nearer, its secrets and mysteries still shrouded in the mist. Ghazal couldn't be sure if he would reach it, or if the unforgiving sea would claim him as its own. But as he moved through the frigid water, he knew one thing for certain — he was no longer swimming towards the darkness: he was swimming towards the unknown future —

— and that, in itself, was a kind of rebirth.






notes: just flinging himself into the ocean in the hopes of a tropical vacation, u kno, as u do :'D

Success!

It is certainly a rare winter's day - far warmer than usual, but certainly not lacking in bitter chills. The wind is not too kind, however, and seems to push the waves in every direction. As Ghazal swims, it almost seems to push him off-course for a time, though it is apparent to Mother Nature that such setbacks will not hinder his integrity. Being in the cold water for so long, it's a miracle he hasn't come down with a case of pneumonia, but thank goodness for that warm Island climate. At the very least, Ghazal can step onto the shores of Aolani Cay without a scratch, but be sure to get some rest . . . for he could still come down with something, if he's not too careful.

Grade: 10/10