Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #11 February 2015 | Page 5

there is a gap where the path turns. My legs carry me onward, step by step. this Dreadnaught point their guns skyward as if reaching for some salvation in the heavens. To the corner and beyond, the passage is the same, the crude walls towering above me on either side and the worn path sloping up before me, until it ends some hundred paces hence. No not an end, it is another turning, another sharp turn to the right. The golden sands are thick with the dead, bones clad in rags or rusted armour. Some in tattered finery, others in loincloths of linen, rich and poor now just bleaching bones. Sticks of wood or sticks of iron, bows or muskets, rotting away. Swords, axes, revolvers. Nothing more than rubbish washed upon the shore. My legs carry me up this path. How many have walked before me? Who were they that walked here in such numbers? Why did they walk this way? Were they as I am, compelled to walk this way, or did they come of their own choosing? Another corner and once again I turn right but this time it is different. The wall to my right is unchanged but the wall to the left does not rise with the slope of the path and some seventy steps along this part of the path I can see over the wall to my left. My breath catches in my throat at what I see before me and below me. I am on an island, not the Mediterranean; for where among those islands can you see the great circled bay of a volcanic isle or look upon the curve of the horizon far across crystal blue seas? Below me I see a great curve of golden sand and blue waters I can see shapes, forms, the wrecks of ships and the bodies of men. I see pulled upon the sands the rotting remains of several ships, no more than bundles of logs or reeds tied together to form rafts and now little remains save the shapes etched in the sand, Greek or Roman galleys, splintered oars jutting from the hulls like the legs of a centipede, the decks and sides sagging as they rot. Medieval ships, the high bow and stern still visible on several of them. There a Viking long boat, or at least an oval shape of long rotted timber with a weather worn dragon still standing above the sand. More wrecks fill the waters just off shore and more still lay half