"The old man tied the marlin to the side of the boat and rowed for shore. But he was too old, and too tired. He had forgotten one thing: the marlin's blood had flowed into the sea and drawn sharks. In the end, that fish was eaten clean."
He Shenyan closed the book, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly into a faintly mocking smile.
"All that work for nothing. What do you think, Sanguinius?"
The transcendent angel of Baal shook his head, his face calm. "At least, in the end, he proved himself. He still had the ability to hunt one alone. A marlin? I am not familiar with that kind of fish, Captain. Nor with this story, but I believe the author should not have been an ordinary man."
"The author himself had quite a few similarities with the old man he wrote."
The Mage set the heavy hardcover book on his lap and tapped its cover with his fingertips. A pleasant tuk-tuk began to sound in the quiet Captain's Quarters. "That's the interesting thing about books. The story is the vessel, and the spirit and thoughts conveyed through it look different to everyone."
"Some people will see pessimism in this book and believe that no matter how hard you work, in the end you're just drawing water with a bamboo basket. Others think the ending doesn't matter; what matters is whether you tried. As for me—"
"You?"
"I simply think this book is excellent," the Mage answered with a smile. "So I've read it many times. I don't think about any reflections or takeaways, either. I just focus on the story. And then, in the end, I discovered that the story itself is the most wonderful thing."
The Vengeance drifted quietly between the stars, grinding over shattered