Immediately Jan was sent to board the next ship back to the Netherlands. For weeks, there was nothing but the blazing sun and the pugnance of seawater. Outside the ship, the dull ocean stretched infinitely across the horizon, everywhere the same with no land in sight. It had been like this for a long, long time. Only when the sun rose or when it set or when it rained did the scenery had some change. But they cycled, again and again in this slow, petty pace from day to day. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and back again.
Though Jan's father busied him with instructions to navigate the seas, for most of the day Jan slept. Anything was welcome to help him escape this prison of water and salt, even if only temporary. So it was no surprise that he dreamt of Formosa. Of the mighty jade green forests, The whistle like birdsong, the blue sky as it mingled with the cotton white clouds. The springs, rivers, mountains, nature.
Home.
He dreamt of Mei as well. She was always smiling and was always content. They were either travelling across the world exploring various fanciful places, or at Formosa taking walks. Sometimes, they were at the academy, Mei not needing to dress up as a man. Sometimes, they were at the spring, exchanging jokes as they chilled their tired feet in the cool water. Most importantly: she was with him, and they were always happy. During those dreams, Jan thought that he could be happy again.
And then he woke up.
Too tired to care, Jan didn't eat much. He didn't draw much, either. The sight of his pastels stirred up painful memories inside that would render him worse off. If he had to, he used charcoal. But inside the ship, there was nothing much to draw anyway, only the bare minimum of his belongings. He wondered if Mei would have liked to learn how to use these.
"Hm, well I like the pastels better," she would had said. "They're a lot more vibrant! Though..." she would stifle a laugh.
Once they stopped at Batavia to restock supplies, a dizzy, head-splitting headache overpowered him. He couldn't stand up- it pounded inside his skull, compressing his brain so painfully. One of the ship's crew nored that it was perhaps nausea from being on the ship for too long- seasickness was not uncommon for voyages as long as this, it was something he would need to be used to.
Jan heeded the advice and went to carry on learning how to restock for voyages. As they wandered around Batavia's market, Jan's mind couldn't help but wander somewhere else. Batavia was warm and humid. It had palm trees and a buzzing rich culture. Would Mei have liked to see this place-
He had to snap his mind out of that thought. He could never see Mei again, thinking about her even after so long would just be meaningless torture for him.
But it appeared that his subconscious wanted otherwise, relentless despite his headache. As he fell asleep that night, he dreamed that they were married. Mei donned a beautiful peony red hanfu customary for Chinese brides with butterflies, plum blossoms, and a pair of Mandarin ducks embroidered on the sleeves.
"Do you remember?" She had asked. "These butterflies show up everywhere we are! And…" a light pink blush on her cheeks, she tucked a strand of hair behind her crown. "When I see plum blossoms, I think of the ones at the academy. The Mandarin ducks on the other hand, well, have you realised what they meant yet?"
He had, Mei. He had. And oh was he happy. With tears of joy, they said their vows, and promised to love each other for evermore.
When he woke up, only silence greeted him. He was back on the ship with the stench of the dry, salt tainted air. Alone. Forbidden to see Mei ever again.
For the first time since he left, tears fell.
A week later, a furious fever rose. When strange rashes appeared and his gums bled, the crew's worst suspicions were made true. Scurvy. With his teeth weak from the disease, his sister Emma made him a stew of pickled vegetables with some lemongrass, ginger, and other herbs from Batavia.
"Careful, it's hot," she reminded as she offered him a spoonful of the concoction.
"Careful, it's hot."
"I know, I know!" Mei said, sipping the medicine at the rims of the bowl.
Jan winced. "I know, I know." With every gulp he risked throwing up from a lack of appetite and that medicine's horrid taste similar to garden mulch.
"Gosh, I hate drinking medicine. The smell reminds me of garden mulch!"
"Jan? Are you thinking about something…" he grabbed the bowl of medicinal stew in Emma's hands. "Hey! Don't burn yourself!"
He knows, Emma, he thought. He knows. Emma would always let the food cool a little before serving it, so he should be fine. The heat seared into his hands and throat and the taste threatened to make him drop the bowl. But he knew that Mei would've wanted him to make a recovery. So he drank it all up, every last drop.
At the Cape Town station, he received a letter. It was from Wang Yao.
Mei's condition had been worsening every since you had left Formosa. Your letter arrived last week, For the first time, she smiled. But she cannot stay like this, as she will be married in a few months' time. These letters cannot come back forever- one day, they will stop as our lives become busier and old relations needed to be discarded. If Mei rely her happiness on these letters only, she will never learn to be happy otherwise. For her sake, she needs to move on in life and stop chasing ephemeral dreams- she needs to learn to be resilient. It pains me to see her everyday, sneaking out to the ports and waiting for you. You will inevitably get married. If you are to be a merchant, chances are you will fall in love with dozens of other women. You will start a new life while she still waits for you, unable to continue her own. Please, for her sake, cut off your relationship with her. She cannot suffer any longer, and once she learns of your disinterest, she will move on herself.
Sincerely,
Wang Yao.
The words shook and blurred, hot tears welling up in his eyes as the paper crumpled in his fists. He loved Mei. He loved her with all of his heart. But was this true? Was clinging to the past hurting her? Was it better for her to move on?
Teardrops fell upon the paper, wrinkling small circles and smudging the ink.
With shaking hands, he retrieved a quill and a piece of paper, a bottle of ink ready to use. Seeing his old calligraphy set again would render him unable to write the letter, and he needed to concentrate despite this headache. Despite the precautions, the quill between Jan's fingers quivered when he remembered his calligraphy classes with Mei.
Barely passing music. Drawing butterflies. Hiding in springs. All but mere dreams, melting into nothingness. All of this… the truth was, if these memories hurted him, they were hurting Mei as well. What if it was better if this never happened at all? Mei would be content. Excited, even, for a new married life. A new life of plenty. A new life where she has a husband who can forever care for her. Yao was right, Mei was a loving, nurturing person- after all, she fell in love with someone like himself. Except that the Ma family could promise her a brighter future. A much, much brighter future than anything he could give her. What use was there to cling onto bare hope when it only existed in dreams?
The quill in his hand shook, the cabin disappearing as his headache increased. But that? That was nothing. How could he?
How could he?
How dare he?
How-!
His constricted chest forced him to cough. Hot blood stained red patches onto the white paper, but he wasn't done. He collapsed. Lukas' silhouette entered the cabin first before Emma's. His lungs constricted, preventing any air from entering as he coughed up blood.
Everything blacked out.
Despite everyone's best wishes, his scurvy had gotten worse. His hair fell out and his gums continued to bleed as he coughed up blood. Over time, his cheeks sunk into his skull and his skin dulled. Over time, he became a living corpse.
One night, he realised that his consciousness was drifting in, out, in, out. He had a fear… what if he never makes it back to the Netherlands? Only last week they have given a sailor a peaceful burial at sea after he died of scurvy. From his latest memory, the sailor was diagnosed not long after he himself was. Before he passes on, too, he needed to act, and fast.
Jan fought his sapped energy as he dug out his writing supplies. But as he opened the box of writing utensils, his eyes fell upon the materials he had used at the academy. The sight of the inkstone gave him a memory of how he'd wake up in the morning, his face covered in ink. A small sad smile crept up his face as he thumbed the cool, dry stone, feeling the granite's rough crevices, remembering the nights where he and Mei would study for the next day.
Closing his eyes, he remembered the sensations of the memory. Though it was tiring, it was nostalgic anyway. Out of habit, Jan opened the case holding his brushes, feeling the bamboo shaft and the soft rabbit fur tips, so different from his quill.
These utensils reminded him of Mei. He closed his eyes and recollected his memories.
Jan opened his eyes. He knew what to write. With shaky hands, he poured water from his flask into the inkstone and brewed the ink needed for writing. He wrote short notes for Emma, Lukas, and his father, despite his sapping energy. It was unlikely that these will be needed to given straight away- perhaps put them in a box with his belongings, so that they will be opened when his belongings are searched in case he was fine the next day.
His eye caught the sight of the box of pastels- new when he came to Formosa, they should be reduced to small stubs now. He smiled- Mei's use of them probably made them shrink faster. Remembering the memory, a painful sensation awoke inside his chest and he carried on writing.
He had finished writing to his family. But there was still one last piece of paper left. He took a deep breath in. It was for a will.
I wish to have seen more of the world, and that I could've gotten better. But perhaps the place I will remember the most is the forests and clouds of Formosa, the beautiful island. Let me be buried on its porcelain shores, for I want to forever be beside my beloved
The next day when they arrived at the port of Amsterdam, he was gone. Emma and Lukas cried, as so did their father.
Heeding his dying wishes, they preserved his body with ice, changing them long enough until they arrive back to Formosa. They buried him in a graveyard upon a hill. It was sombre the day they buried him. Black clouds swirled in the grey, cloud covered sky. Jan's family agreed to stay for a few more days on the island to mourn his passing. That day, they had lost an eldest son and the eldest brother.
Finally, it was their last day on the island. 'The sooner we leave this wretched place, the better,' Father had told them. Emma followed her brother and her father back to the ship. In her hands was Jan's letter supposedly for the Wang family, now folded up. A coil of fury burnt inside of her gut, threatening to burst. Did the Wang family have any idea what they had done? The letter in her hands crumpled. She will show them. Speak to the patriarch Wang Yao and give this letter to him.
Despite calls from her father and brother, Emma rushed away from the ports and into the heart of Zeelandia. She remembered where the Wang household was as clear as day, she knew where to go!
At last, she had arrived. The gates were opened as a young Asian woman walked into the courtyard.
"HEY!" She called out. The lady turned her head around, curious. "I'm looking for Wang Yao…" the lady frowned, a look of confusion upon her brow.
"请问。。。您是迷路脸吗？对不起，我不会讲外国语文。"
Emma widened her eyes. The letter in her hand crumpled. Why couldn't she speak Mandarin!
"Wang Yao!" Emma raised the crumpled letter above her head and stepped into the courtyard. "I'm looking for Wang Yao! He needs to know what had happened to Jan! Jan didn't do anything wrong!" Tears were pricking in her eyes, but she needed some way to get her to understand!
The guards had other plans as they grabbed her arms. Emma struggled, trying to catch the lady's attention."WAIT! HANG ON!" The guards dragged her out of the gates despite her protests. Clinging onto the paper, she threw the crumpled thing into the courtyard. "This is what you've all done to Jan!"
The guards dumped her onto the streets and closed the gate. Emma stepped back, her bottom lip trembling as she looked at the closed gate.
"EMMA!" A voice from behind her called. It was Lukas, huffing from all the running. "You…" at the sight of his sister, Lukas' facial features relaxed. "Emma?" he whispered. At the sight of her young brother so sad, Emma couldn't help but loosen her features as sorrow welled. No, he didn't need to be involved in this.
"Come on," she whispered as she held his hand, walking back to the ports as she wiped away her tears. "Let's go home."
A strange woman appeared at the gates today. She was European, easily distinguishable from her poppy orange hair, her freckles, and her wide green eyes. From the curses she had thrown in this foreign language, Mei could tell that it was Dutch.
She thought she had heard Jan's name in her speech. Was she her sister? Mei remembered how Jan briefly sketched his siblings before. Short hair, wide eyes… it was her!
Mei picked up the crumpled letter and hid it into her sleeve, away from the guards and back in her room. Through the limited transparency of the paper, Mei could see a splash of red. Was it a drawing? Please be a drawing. But why did Jan's sister scream so much? Why were there tears in her eyes? Her hands shook. Mei wasn't stupid. But it couldn't be something too horrible, could it? With careful fingers, she pried open the crumpled letter.
When Mei saw the bloodstains, her eyes widened.
A piercing, mournful cry echoed the entire courtyard.
Hnnhnhkjgfhdskjfj Ned is dead, this was the part I've been dreading to write for so long now AAAA
"请问。。。您是迷路脸吗？对不起，我不会讲外国语文。"- excuse me, are you lost? Sorry, I can't speak any foreign languages.
Batavia- capital of the Dutch East Indies, now modern day Central Jakarta, Indonesia.