E Fontibus
words by Scarlet, art by Tori Ochave
This is the marina we have known our entire lives. The wood sways in the morning winds as I pull a bangka to the edge. Scrap metal holds patches of rotting wood together, the stitches holding the quilted sails together are fraying, and the rusting engine might give out the moment it hits the muddy river. Nevertheless, those are my initials carved into this vessel, and I’ll set sail before—
“What the hell are you doing?” My father runs to me with distress in his eyes. “You’ll capsize without a Vitruvian ship. That hunk of junk won’t bring you to the headwaters.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going north.” Everyone I know is trained to sail against the current to the river’s headwaters in a journey that’s boring beyond belief every time. Seeing the same fauna and flora chronicled in evergreen encyclopedias from years before left me yearning to witness the birth of something new. I’ve always wanted nothing more than to uncover new knowledge instead of retreading shallow waters.
“This again? Why can’t you understand that shallow waters are safe waters? We give and take and survive here! Why would you risk that just for the ocean?”
“When I return, I’ll show you why.” I step into the bangka as he starts yelling more.
“No! You’ll get yourself killed! Come back!” Reluctantly, I pull on the engine’s cord and begin riding the current north. Water hits my face as my father starts running along the river.
“Please, stop! I don’t want to lose you to the sea monsters!” I do my best to ignore him as the boat continues, speeding so fast it feels lighter than air. Once I’m far enough from home, nothing has ever felt as natural. I’ll find what’s out there even if it kills me.
“‘Ah, blast it,’ he relents as the soldiers loosen their grip. ‘You’ll crawl back, either crying or in a coffin...’”
The sweat on my forehead glistens in the afternoon sun and I notice colossal metal boats lining the shores of the river. I ride the current and see a group of people clad in white uniforms enveloping a pile of iron rods and concrete barriers.
“Well, what a surprise!” The captain of the Vitruvian Men jumps from his scaffolding to better look down on me. “So, you’ve finally changed your mind about joining us, eh?
“I don’t want to join. What happened to the village you were building down in the headwaters? Did the crocodiles finally drive you out?”
“Watch it! I’m the one asking questions! First off, it’s a permanent town, not a village! It’ll be way bigger, way better, and way safer than you can dream of! Second, what the hell are you doing here?!”
“Going to the sea.”
“WHAT?! You imbecile! You’re old enough to know the ocean endangers everyone! Haven’t you heard the stories? Hasn’t your father told you about the capsized ships, the never-ending fog, or the thousand-toothed beasts? You’re throwing away life with the rest of us just to die for nothing! You don’t even know what’s waiting for you!”
“Exactly. I want to find out.”
The captain leans over, looking me dead in the eye. “Maggots like you are why we’re building this dam and turning this river into a reservoir away from the ocean. Get out of that pile of scrap you call a boat, board one of our ships instead, and go home. Go to where you belong, where you’re used to, where you should be.”
“Why should I trust the person that wants to keep us in the headwaters? Why should we have to relearn the same facts, revisit the same places, and replay the same day? That town will make life not worth living, and this permanent reservoir will kill us through stagnation. I don’t want to live like that, much less help build it.”
“There’s nothing waiting for you.” The captain comes down and slaps me. “Turn around now if you know what’s good for you.”
Without a word, I turn the engine on. The captain almost jumps into my bangka to continue fighting, but thankfully, some of his subordinates begin restraining him.
“Ah, blast it,” he relents as the soldiers loosen their grip. “You’ll crawl back, either crying or in a coffin. I’m going to the town, so get back to work!” As everyone else returns to the dam and he steps into his own boat to head south, I weave through the construction, more eager to prove him wrong than ever.
“I brace myself for something swimming in the darkness below. Instead, the murky sepia waters are no more...”
I almost drift off to sleep under the setting sun before something jolts me to attention, but what is it? The boat’s not rocking, it’s still above water, and there's no land around to crash into. At least, there shouldn’t be.
Looking down into the water, I brace myself for something swimming in the darkness below. Instead, the murky sepia waters are no more, and a treasure trove of fish I’d never seen before swims past me. Their scales shine in the azure water, reflecting ruby and sapphire hues. An entire school of them rush out of a colony of coral, multitudes of branches contorting around each other. Immediately, I bring my journal out to start writing about everything around me, catching a whiff of a new briny scent. The excitement continues when I reach an island surrounded by saltwater. Despite its small size, it’s chock-full of bushes with cherry-speckled leaves, rosy flowers big enough to gobble me up, and other exotic plants I could only dream of.
As night arrives on the shore, even the moon looks prettier than it ever did at home. I write with the light of a campfire while a crab starts burrowing a hole in the sand. It could’ve fit in the palm of my hand, a far cry from the beasts in the books I read as a kid. I believed that they toppled palm trees and ate entire schools of fish with ease. They were the books given to us by the Vitruvian Men about how we should avoid the unknown, the books our fathers and their fathers read. I couldn’t fathom how they got that or why they wrote it, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. As the crab settles into its hole, I start falling asleep, dreaming of possibilities born from this discovery and the things I’ll get to tell everyone back home.
“I throw my journal to them and watch their surprise morph into curiosity as they skim through, reading my notes and diagrams.”
The sky starts to light up as the daybreak sun wakes me. I almost trip rushing to the bangka, hoping to share everything I found. I pull on the engine and sail in the direction I came, eventually finding my way to the river. Despite working against the current, everything still feels smoother than ever until I encounter the in-progress dam.
“Hey, it’s the kid!” A bunch of Vitruvian Men climb down to meet me eye-to-eye, surrounding me with astonished expressions. “I can’t believe you’re alive!”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Captain told us it was dangerous to go to sea. He’s the only one that’s ever gone out there, and he’d ramble about water murkier than this river and beasts not even worth killing for the meat.”
“I don’t know what seas he was in, but look.” I throw my journal to them and watch their surprise morph into curiosity as they skim through, reading my notes and diagrams.
“No way…this can’t be real…”
“If you don’t believe me, the ocean’s right in front of you. I’ll have my journal please.” I take it back and continue my voyage, the last thing I see being the Vitruvian Men looking at their dam in despair.
“Forget surviving here, we could thrive out there.”
As dawn turns to morning again, I dock the bangka and see my father running to me.
“Ay, anak!” His arms wrap around to embrace me. “I was so worried!”
“Dad, here.” I hand my journal to him, and his eyes flare up as he reads it. “I told you I’d show you why I left, didn’t I?”
“I know you’re not a liar, but good god. This is all out in the ocean?”
“If you’re willing to search for it, yes. I’m thinking of going again a couple of days from now. Do you want to join?”
“But, the village—”
“The village will still exist, like always, but imagine what could happen if we ventured out more. We could give to and take from the ocean as well, we could see our home renewed. Forget surviving here, we could thrive out there.”
He pauses for a moment. “We’ll replace that engine, then we’ll go.” I hug my father in return. Before we go home, I look behind me and see the marina almost at a standstill. The bangka bobs in the muddy river, eager to sail again as soon as possible. I can’t help but smile as my initials, soaked in water, shine brightly in the sun.
I have sailed here for my entire life, and I can’t wait to continue writing this brand-new story.
