Richie had called the elders together many times in recent days to discuss important matters concerning how to defend against the Sea Monsters.
But every time,
one elder was absent.
This time,
he glanced over the elders who had come to the meeting, and when he still didn't see that familiar figure,
Richie couldn't help letting out a quiet sigh.
"Has Blair still not recovered?"
If
the Tribe wanted to build defenses and weapons to fight those terrifying monsters,
then Blair was, of course, indispensable.
But this time, the other man had once again stayed away from the meeting, claiming he was unwell.
When the elders heard their chief's question,
they exchanged glances, their faces showing a hint of sympathy.
Several months ago,
Blair had fallen ill.
During that time, he had remained bedridden, never leaving his bed.
Everyone knew very well
that Blair wasn't suffering from a physical illness.
He had a sickness of the heart.
The Driftwood Boat had been the work of many years of Blair's life.
They knew full well that he had poured more of himself into it than he had into his own children.
Seeing the boat destroyed like that had naturally dealt him a terrible blow.
In the end, Richie decided to visit and try to persuade the wise man he valued.
One night,
Richie went to Blair's house once more, alone and leaning on his cane.
The inside of the house
looked just as it had more than a decade ago.
Filthy and disordered,
it was piled high with all kinds of things.
The only difference was the person.
Blair's face was covered in stubble.
Years of hunching over his work had also left his back stooped.
He was clearly no longer the energetic young scholar he had once been.
He had grown old, too.
However,
it was actually after hearing that the ants had conveyed a divine revelation
that Blair had returned to his workbench.
Although he had shut himself away at home,
he had begun planning weapons and defenses to guard against the Sea Monsters.
"Chief Richie, look. We can build wooden towers with a clear view along the coast, spaced at regular intervals. When the guards stationed on top spot a monster, they can sound the Wailing Whistle to raise the alarm. That way, the Tribe can learn of a Sea Monster invasion right away."
With his thin arms, Blair gestured over the coastline he had drawn on the table, pointing at something.
"The Artisans and I also hope to design a kind of bow for our people. It won't require much strength, so even women and the elderly can use it to shoot arrows."
Richie looked at Blair, who had grown much thinner, and nodded in approval.
"Thanks for all your hard work."
He knew that the scholar had forced himself to regain his spirits and return to work only for the Tribe's future safety.
But it was still much better than the despondent state he had been in before.
Blair's pale face broke into a faint smile.
"You're too kind. There's no hardship in it. The Tribe is now facing an invasion by Sea Monsters, and every member is doing their best to help. I can't keep wasting my time like that, either."
"I'm glad to see you're feeling a little better,"
Richie said reassuringly.
"Get some rest. I'll pass your suggestions on to the other elders."
Then, leaning on his cane, he walked to the stone house's doorway, ready to leave.
But after a moment's thought, he stopped.
Richie stood there at the entrance.
After a long while,
he finally asked,
"Can you tell me what it is that's made you feel so low?"
Richie turned around and asked, leaning on his cane.
He looked at Blair the way a father might look at his child,
his eyes revealing a hint of concern.
He had already realized
that the destruction of a single boat alone
couldn't have left this wise Artisan so dispirited for so long.
There had to be a deeper reason.
Blair was taken aback.
After meeting the chief's gaze, he saw the sincere concern and understanding in his eyes.
His own eyes couldn't help showing a hint of gratitude
and shame.
After a long silence,
Blair finally looked at the bonfire and opened his heart, telling him everything.
"Chief Richie, how much do you think we really know about this world?"
"That day, I watched with my own eyes as that monster overturned and wrecked my boat. I was certainly heartbroken."
Blair gave a bitter smile in the firelight.
"But what truly made me despair was the appearance of that enormous monster."
"So there really are such terrifyingly huge creatures in the ocean. With a casual flip, one can tear a boat apart with ease."
"And yet, I had dismissed the stories about these monsters as nonsense."
"Because I thought that if such monsters really existed, our ancestors could never have sailed to this island."
"Looking back now, I see how arrogant and ignorant I was."
Blair's expression turned ashamed and pained.
After a lifetime of learning and research, he had once believed that he had climbed to the peak of knowledge.
He had also believed
that one day, he would use his wisdom to build the kind of ocean-going ship described in the legends recorded on the Hemp Paper, the kind his ancestors had once sailed in, and glimpse all the wonders of that mysterious ocean.
But now, looking back at the moment he had finally seen reality clearly, he realized that after struggling onward for half his life, he was still standing at the foot of the world's mountain.
With monsters like that blocking the way,
such fragile, tiny dugout canoes could never make a long voyage.
And in the mysterious ocean,
there must be countless other unpredictable dangers, just like that monster, beyond what people could understand.
But he no longer had time to learn about any of it.
He was old now, too.
There was no way he could ever make it over that mountain.
Blair sat down again and spoke in a heavy voice.
"The sea is like a mountain of despair, stretching across our path."
The stone house fell silent.
The two old men's shadows crossed in silence in the firelight.
"Yes, it's like a mountain."
Richie stood leaning on his cane, an expression of rare agreement appearing on his face.
There was no comfort in his voice.
It was almost as though he were agreeing with Blair's despair.
But more than that, there was a sense of acceptance.
"I once wanted to see the world beyond the island, too. But we're both old now."
Richie smiled faintly.
But it wasn't a mocking smile.
Blair really was a lot like him when he was young.
Back then, the same questions had always troubled him.
But in the end, as the years passed, he had found his own answer.
"Still, we're fortunate, aren't we?"
Richie said slowly.
"In this world, many people die without ever knowing there's a mountain over there."
"But at least we've seen the mountain, haven't we?"
Hearing this, Blair was stunned.
Dazed, he raised his head.
But the old man leaning on his cane had already moved on.
That aged figure simply walked slowly toward the distant firelight, one step at a time.
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