This is the 2nd chapter of my novel (WATCHER) if you hadn't readed first chapter, it on my profile!!
WATCHER
Chapter 2: HOPE
The next morning, Aarav found himself thinking about the Watchers.
He had heard the word only yesterday.
People who sailed beyond the waters surrounding Arthal.
People who went farther than ordinary ships were allowed to go.
People who had actually seen what lay beyond the horizon.
The thought refused to leave him.
During class, he found himself staring at the corner of his notebook.
He wrote a single word.
WATCHERS
He looked at it for a moment, then closed the notebook.
After school, instead of heading home, Aarav made his way toward the central district.
The streets were busy.
Fishmongers called out to customers near the harbor. Workers carried crates from the docks. Boats moved slowly across the water, their sails catching the afternoon wind. The smell of salt and freshly caught fish filled the air.
Aarav turned into a familiar lane and stopped at a small shop.
The shopkeeper looked up.
"Late today."
"School."
"You say that every day."
"Because I go to school every day."
The old man gave him an unimpressed look.
Aarav picked up what he usually bought and placed a few coins on the counter.
The shopkeeper counted them.
"Two more."
Aarav looked at him.
"Since when?"
"This morning."
"You could've told me."
"You could've asked."
Aarav sighed and placed two more coins on the counter.
The shopkeeper handed him his purchase.
"See you tomorrow."
Aarav walked away.
"You're still coming tomorrow, aren't you?" the shopkeeper called.
Aarav raised a hand without turning around.
He continued toward the oldest part of the city.
There stood THE TRUTH.
The library was impossible to miss.
It had been carved directly into an enormous formation of pale stone that rose above the surrounding buildings. The entrance was framed by towering pillars covered in carvings.
Historical battles.
Ancient maps.
Ships crossing oceans.
People rebuilding cities.
Names of scholars, explorers and historians were engraved into the stone.
Even the walls seemed to tell stories.
There was nothing sacred about the place.
No prayers.
No offerings.
No statues of gods.
It was simply a monument to knowledge.
The people of Arthal had carved their history into stone and then built a library inside it.
Aarav stepped through the entrance.
The noise of the city faded behind him.
Inside, the library stretched far deeper than he had expected.
Stone corridors opened into enormous halls filled with books and records. Some sections contained shelves. Others contained preserved documents, maps and engraved tablets.
A librarian sat behind a long wooden desk.
She looked up as Aarav approached.
"Can I help you?"
"Watchers."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's a large subject."
"I want to know how they started."
The librarian studied him for a moment.
"Historical organizations. Third archive. Maritime expeditions."
"Thank you."
Aarav turned.
"Aarav."
He looked back.
The librarian pointed toward the shelves.
"And put everything back where you found it."
Aarav nodded.
"I will."
She gave him a doubtful look.
He smiled and walked away.
It took him some time to find the section.
Eventually, he pulled an old volume from a shelf.
Dust rose into the air.
Aarav coughed.
The title was carved into the dark cover.
THE WATCHERS: RECORDS OF THE FIRST EXPEDITION
He sat down.
The first pages described the early years of Arthal.
After the Messiah established the kingdom, the survivors spent years rebuilding.
Food.
Shelter.
Medicine.
Agriculture.
Cities.
For a decade, survival was all that mattered.
But once Arthal became stable, another problem appeared.
No one knew what had happened beyond the surrounding waters.
The mainland had been cut off from Arthal.
No reliable information had reached the kingdom since the Vortes Incident.
So an expedition was proposed.
Its purpose was simple.
Find out what had happened to the world.
The expedition would travel far beyond the waters normally used by Arthal's ships.
But there was one problem.
The Vortes Curse was still active beyond the safe regions.
Ordinary people could not travel too far without risking exposure.
Then the researchers discovered something unusual.
Some people were immune.
The first known case was the Messiah.
Others with the same resistance were eventually identified.
They became the first Watchers.
Aarav turned the page.
A heading appeared.
FIRST EXPEDITION
He read slowly.
Thirteen Watchers departed.
Below it were thirteen codenames.
WRAITH
FATHOM
NORTH
ASH
TIDE
HOLLOW
EMBER
MARCH
RAVEN
VAULT
GRAVE
NINE
PARASITE
Aarav frowned at the last name.
He continued reading.
The expedition travelled farther than any Arthal vessel had gone before.
For weeks, there were regular reports.
Then the reports became shorter.
Then they stopped.
Aarav turned another page.
DAY 47.
Nothing else.
Another page.
DAY 53.
Nothing.
Another.
DAY 61.
The page contained only one line.
TWELVE MISSING.
Aarav stopped.
He read it again.
Twelve.
His fingers remained on the page as he slowly turned it.
The next entry was different.
It was written in a darker ink.
PARASITE RETURNED.
Aarav stared at the words.
He kept reading.
The Watcher vessel was discovered drifting near the outer waters.
There was no crew aboard.
Except one.
PARASITE.
He had returned alone.
No rescue team had found him.
No second expedition had reached him.
He had sailed the damaged vessel back toward Arthal by himself.
Twelve Watchers had left with him.
Only one returned.
Aarav turned the page.
There was almost nothing there.
A short medical report.
No lasting mutation.
No significant physical deterioration.
No explanation for how he had survived such prolonged exposure beyond the known waters.
Then came a final note.
When asked how he survived, PARASITE refused to provide an account.
Aarav stared at the sentence.
Below it was another.
His original identity was never entered into the public record.
Aarav slowly closed the book.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
Thirteen people had sailed into the unknown.
Twelve had disappeared.
One had returned.
And nobody knew how.
He looked at the title again.
THE WATCHERS.
Until yesterday, the word had sounded exciting.
Now it sounded different.
Dangerous.
He looked around the library.
People were quietly reading.
Students were studying.
Researchers were taking notes.
Everything felt normal.
Aarav looked down at the closed book.
He was afraid.
Not of the Watchers.
Of what they had seen.
For the first time, he understood why people called them—
Those Who Sail Toward Death.
He remained there for a long time.
Then he opened the book again.
Not because he wasn't afraid.
Because he still wanted to know.
That was the strange thing.
The more frightening the unknown became...
The harder it was for him to turn away from it.
By the time Aarav left THE TRUTH, the sun was beginning to disappear.
He walked through the evening streets.
The market was still busy.
Fishermen were returning from the harbor. Shops were closing one by one. Children ran between the stalls while the smell of dinner drifted through the streets.
Everything was ordinary.
Everything was familiar.
But Aarav's thoughts were somewhere beyond the horizon.
When he reached home, the door was already open.
"You took long enough."
His mother's voice came from inside.
"I went to THE TRUTH."
There was a pause.
"Why?"
Aarav put his things down.
"I was reading about the Watchers."
His mother looked at him.
"The Watchers?"
"Yes."
She sighed.
"You've been thinking about them since yesterday, haven't you?"
Aarav smiled faintly.
"Maybe."
"Don't let your imagination run away with you."
"It won't."
His mother gave him a look that suggested she didn't believe him.
Aarav walked toward his room.
He stopped beside the window.
Beyond the rooftops, the ocean reflected the last light of the setting sun.
Somewhere beyond that horizon were places he had never seen.
Places the Watchers had seen.
Places where twelve people had disappeared.
And one had returned.
Aarav didn't know whether he would ever become a Watcher.
He didn't even know if he was capable of it.
But now he knew one thing.
There was a path.
And for the first time, the question that had followed him for so long didn't feel impossible to answer.
He looked toward the horizon.
One day...
He would see what was beyond it.