The shipwreck

The cracking of the weakened wood was overshadowed by the crashing and rolling of waves. The storm raged on, and hammering rain beat down against the bodies of the panicking sailors. Ceyx stood amongst them, trying to hold some of the snapped cables so they would not capsize. His face was streaked with rain, mimicking the tears he imagined dearest Alcyone shedding. Ceyx knew he would not survive the storm and it was all he could do not to give up. As the winds blustered on, he could barely hold onto the slipping cables, listening helplessly as his shipmates – his friends – yelled and cried out to each other around him. It was unbearable to listen to as the storm picked them off, knowing that even if, by some miracle, they made it back home, he would have to break the news to dozens of loving families that they had lost their loved ones.

A terrible splash bought Ceyx back to reality, snapping him out of his dreading thoughts and alerting him to the loss of one of their masts. It sank down into the restless water, taking with it another two men – whom he recognised with a terrible clarity to be Diomedes and Perimedes, his friends since they were but babes clinging to their mothers. Ceyx prayed silently to Aeolus, begging for the storm to cease or for the rest of the men to live – and then everything went dark. He was faintly aware of his eyes stinking with salt, his lungs filling with water as images of his loving wife flashed before his eyes.

He would miss her, he thought, sorrow filling his heart as he let himself drawn. He would miss her dearly. The last thought Ceyx had, the last air leaving his lungs, was used to silently mouth a blessing for his wife’s happiness: ‘Dearest Alcyone, do not grieve me. I will meet you again in the next world.’