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It was the seventh day since Noah would sit by the front porch from dawn to dusk. It was most demeaning for a man with a delightful purpose. Forgotten to the growth of the world around him, disposing of him, one can't quite enjoy any bliss in the name of respite. Noah was old and weak, and he lives on the cliff edges of the kingdom that needs him no more, with the only entertaining sight is the sight of the sleeping Culosyan, looming menacingly in the fog of the horizon.
Noah turned to face the one singular purpose that provided to him his living - The lighthouse, Anami: named after his wife who'd pass away just a month after the completion of the construction of it, sitting on a rock stack and connected to the mainland by a bridge. Every day he'd turn to face the lighthouse and feel a sense of sublimity as if she were always with him, holding his hand, reliving the most beautiful moment of his life.
It was a singular experience that took place. The skies began parting, opening into the heavens. There were no sails to be seen anytime on the whole day. Noah would take Anami from the humble abode at the foot of the bridge to the lighthouse. They would climb ninety steps up to the balcony and lean against it. The feeling was most exhilarating and romantic. The light of the sun would bask onto their skin and through the cold of the passing gale came the comforting warmth. It was a crucial memory for Noah as it was one of this memorable sensations he's experienced - the softness of her skin.
Sublime was the crucial word that described what Noah craved for. He never understood its meaning nor does he still but was most certain that that was the most fitting word. Whilst he sat on his chair, he reminisced on the sensation of the soft skin, wishing to feel it once more. He'd grown out of grieving within a week of her wife's passing with the knowledge that she would have wanted him to enjoy his job and their abode, making his work with the lighthouse all the more fruitful. Now, he sits at the porch, a week passing after several decades of the most honest hard work, seeming to rot away on his rickety chair at the porch.
On this day, he noticed his son approaching him from his peripheral. He was exhausted and fatigued as printed towards his father. Noah was not very expectant. Ever since his son joined the royal guard, he was always gravely displeased, being the princess' consort. It did not feel right and very much so was he aware that his son had agreed to his ill intent against his justifications. However, Noah knew his son would only come to him for one reason - To leave their abode.
The son would arrive and speak so valiantly and fearfully, as if he was filled with love; he was cross, sentimental and scared. "Culosyan will be awakened" he cried. What caught the most interest to the man however is the procession of knights behind him, a certain proof that this truly was no ruse or unlove and is his son pleading to come with him. He also knew that his son would not be lying about it, regardless of the knights having to greet him.
Culosyan awakening would be no surprise. The empire has made a recent attempt in attacking in its slumber and it crushed the entire navy around its proximity immediately. Culosyan is, moreover, a far more personal endeavour to Noah, for it was Culosyan who took away Anami to a better place. He had been most devastated of her departure during his period of grievance, blaming himself for the love he had not given enough to her. But a consolation had given him the peace of mind needed to move forward in life, with happy memories and a healthy present. After all, there was a reason Anami was the name of the lighthouse.
This peace had allowed him to care the least for his three sons who had abandoned their mother for the life of luxury and dishonesty behind those castle walls. Noah would hence have no will to go after his son, nor the other two, none of whom had ever been willing to help their father climb up the light house steps one last time, as he wishes. The son, after a riveting fifteen minutes, had become stoic in expression and bid his farewell. He was the first leave on his steed, the others of his procession following behind after a dubious look towards Noah.
The man never stood from his chair and when they departed he turned to face the lighthouse. He was rather intrigued to approach it again, attempt to climb its steps once more. Only six days away, his dread of being away from his beloved struck him the worst. His period of grieving was the only period he had ever been over six days away from the lighthouse and it was abominable. That dread seeping right back in was not something he was willing to undergo. So, if it would be the last thing, he would at least try to stumble his way up to the top and get his moment with Anami.
Noah pulled up his walking stick and with effort got up out of his chair and descended down the steps of his porch. He turned back to look at his house for one last time before pressing forward towards the lighthouse. His trek would not be for too long but along the grass in his weakened muscles and bones, it was painful. He had gotten out of his chair previously only to eat, bath or sleep, spending the rest of the time outside, staring at the ominous distant Culosyan. His calves hurt and his breath became heavy with every further step but he fought it through until he reached the bridge. Having not any practice to climb its steep arch. One tug against his stick and another against the parapet, he managed to take three steps forward, that felt like an eternity, before he lost his footing and slipped backward against the grass knocking his wind out.
He groaned in hurt, arching his spine away from the ground, his senses failing just to focus on that singular pain. He cried and pleaded for his wife to come and hold him once more, unable to bear any more of the excruciations. He wept, clutching onto his eyes with both his hands begging to be let go of this misery of his loneliness. When time passed and he let go, Noah attempted to stand up again, losing faith in attempting to reach the lighthouse. He instinctively turned to the right.
Culosyan. A being of existential question stood before him. Its proximity from the lighthouse could not be predicted without having to look down at the sea where its body sprouts from. This pale, human hand shaped creation with a giant eye in its palm beckoned before Noah, the stare wide, unblinking and observant of his movements. It made no sound and no shriek, its fingers unfurled from its state of sleep when it would be clutched into a fist, seemingly covering its eye into the darkness. But before Noah they were not furled close. They were open wide, staying most still, like an image sitting near it. Its finger tips would fade away into the thickness of the fog seemingly its form molded from the fog itself. The arm that is attached to the hand, Noah could only guess from his footing, emerged out of the ocean, holding the hand up to observe the world it was brought in.
Noah stared into it for an unintentional prolonged time, gazing upon its enormousness, with no scale in his pockets to use. He was, however, not scared to look at it. He raised his right hand up, his body still laying on the grassy ground, and he held it up to his face, moving it back and forth until his hand would silhouette Culosyan. There was no purpose of this act except that he merely wanted to. He clutched his fist, the creature, unmoving, peered from behind until he opened it back. It was unclear of what Noah means to do with it near him, staring at him. Its featureless and unmoving stature made it less hostile but more ominous.
Noah pulled his hands to the back and pushed against the ground, effortlessly raising himself up, his eyes still focused towards this unearthly creation before him. He muttered a few words to it, unsure of his intent to do so, "Who did you learn from?" A warmth began to gently glaze his naked skin of his face, his own eyes beginning to squint as he turned to face this sudden brightness. The skies have opened, the Sun's glorious rays peering through and feeding his senses back. He stumbled towards it just to find within two steps that he needed not a stick to walk with nor found any stick around him. The Culosyan just stood there, doing nothing.
A miracle was what Noah called when he blinked. When his eyes opened, the sight before him was astonishing. The rock stack, upon which stood the tall lighthouse was no longer a rock stack but part of the cliff. The bridge had vanished and there was no gap parting it away, with only a few steps for Noah to walk along the very grass, straining nothing further to reach the lighthouse. The lighthouse itself was in a unique state. Upon the Earth was not a tall lighthouse but a stub of it. Its balcony rested against the grass, like a gazebo. On this balcony was a woman, standing against the rail, facing away from him but her hand resting away from her on the rail. He noticed the hand pant against the rail.
Every setting of dread, fear and depression was unnaturally whisked away like something pulled it out with a whisk of wind out of his open mouth. His heart and lungs felt lighter, his legs extremely strong that the weight of his body strained it not. It was all dubious but with another step forward, even that mild questioning disappeared out of his thought. Noah tried to focus on the mere question that he had just moments ago but once more, and this last step would take Noah away from any question - Question: a word that he had never heard of.
Noah looked forward at the gazebo designed like a lighthouse. He saw Anami, enjoying the sights of the ocean and the light of the Sun and he began walking towards her, laughing at himself for not having approached her sooner. He jogged up to the gazebo and threw his legs over the railing. He noticed her hair fluttering gracefully with the flow of the singing wind, a sight to behold for only someone as honouring as Aphrodite would bless him with. He smiled, strolling up to the woman of his life, and rested both his against the railing next to her. The Sun shun bright but not blinding. The heat against the cold of the wind provided a flavourful sensation that he would experience when he'd be in bed. It was just perfectly blissful. He smiled as he felt a gentle kiss upon his cheeks for Noah was truly in paradise, a place where he'd nowhere be. With it, Noah closed his eyes.
Sysil, son of Noah, brother of Plati and Jacob, rode his trusted steed towards his home at the ends of the kingdom, a cliffside where upon laid a crucial lighthouse that governed the paths to many a ship. He was fearful of the fate that might befall is father after the most recent attempt to instigate any action or response from the ethereal creation, Culosyan. However, when he arrived, all the colour on him was lost. There, before the foot of the bridge that led to the lighthouse, lay the old man, his stick strewn about the grass. He was motionless, both his hands on his face. Sysil sprinted towards his father, his heavy armour clanking with every step. He fell to his knees and pulled away his father's hands. The sight made him gag.
The father had lost his eyes, leaving two bleeding sockets on his face. On his hands were his eyeballs, bloody, molded into the palms. Sysil's mind spun, his breath hastened and his vision darkened. He turned to the only thing that he was most certain of to be the cause of his father's death. His heart froze. It sees him. Sysil got up with no other thought and ran away.