Twenty years ago, after Edgar and his family were expelled from their grandfather "Lewis's" house in London, the family returned with heavy disappointment to their small home in Liverpool, near the old port, in that place where sea spray mingled with the smell of iron and sweat, and the shouts of sailors and merchants rose day and night.
The air there was humid,the sky perpetually gloomy, and the waves never rested... (Shhhhh... shhhhh...), as if the sea itself was breathing sadly from its depths.
Edgar was seven years old at the time, living with his father Klein and his mother Emily.
Klein was a fisherman well-known among the port folk,nicknamed the "Octopus of the Seas" — not for any strange appearance, but for his strange luck and skill.
He would go out to sea alone and return laden with what large ships couldn't achieve combined,as if he had hidden arms working with him in the depths.
But his secret was nothing more than a special bait he made himself,a bait with a strange smell that attracted fish like fire attracts moths, until it was said he held magic in his right hand.
When the family returned from the grandfather's mansion, silence reigned at first, then an argument erupted between the couple.
Emilyshouted, waving her hands:
"I told you we shouldn't have gone to him! Didn't I warn you?"
Klein replied in a tired voice, rubbing his temples:
"He sent me a letter, asking me to come and bring Edgar so he could see him!"
She screamed again:
"Your father is disturbed, Klein! The moment he saw the child, he looked at him as if he were a thief! Then he threw us out in the worst way, and yelled at Edgar for no reason!"
Klein tried to lighten the mood, smiling a faint smile and saying:
"Enough, enough... Let's buy some fish for dinner, tomorrow will be better."
And so the quarrel ended over the evening meal.
The house overlooking the sea was relatively luxurious,built by the family through the effort of fishing and the bounty of the sea, but that night was heavy.
They ate dinner in silence,hearing only the sound of spoons (Clink... clink...) on the plates, while the mother's glances carried an unmistakable annoyance, and Edgar watched her silently, afraid that opening his mouth would provoke her anger.
But he held in his chest a curiosity that almost burned him:
He wanted to tell them aboutthe strange bracelets, the giant girl, and the magical world whose traces he had glimpsed in his grandfather's house.
However,his mother's sharp glances seemed to say "Be quiet," so he indeed chose silence.
After dinner, Edgar went up to his small room overlooking the port.
He opened the balcony door and sat there,the night air blasting his face, warm with the sea's humidity.
He listened to the roar of the waves(Shhhhh... shhhhh...) and the sounds of the sailors below arguing, singing, and laughing.
But something else began to creep into his hearing— strange whispers, faint at first, as if emerging from the depths of the sea itself.
He thought they were just illusions or the sound of the wind, but the more he listened, the clearer they became.
The whispers formed vague words...until he distinguished one word, spoken by a voice as faint as a ghost floating on the waves:
"Why...?"
Edgar froze in place, his heart pounding violently (Thump... thump... thump...), he approached the iron railing of the balcony and looked down.
The people were as they were,some drunk and singing, some sleeping on the pavement... except for one man who was different.
He stood in the middle of the wet road,staring directly at Edgar with a strange smile and a slightly distorted face, as if drawn in shadows.
Edgar screamed, stepping backward:
"Oh! Who are you?!"
But the man didn't answer, instead he turned slowly and disappeared around the left corner... he vanished as if he dissipated into the air in an illogical way.
Edgar ran towards the bed, his trembling voice making his father enter the room immediately.
He opened the door violently(Click!) and said in a firm tone:
"What are you doing here, Edgar? Come on, it's bedtime!"
The boy replied in a hesitant voice:
"Won't you tell me a story before bed?"
Klein sighed, sat on the edge of the bed and said, smiling despite his exhaustion:
"Edgar... you're growing up, and you don't need stories anymore. Now you are the one who will write your own story."
Edgar pleaded with beseeching eyes:
"Please, Dad... just one. I promise it's the last one."
Klein laughed lightly, closed the door gently, sat beside him and said:
"Alright, but this one really will be the last."
The child rested his head on the pillow and said:
"I want a different story this time."
Klein took a deep breath, like someone opening a door from the past, and said in a low voice tinged with nostalgia:
"Then I'll tell you a different story... a story about our family, about your grandfather Lewis."
He was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully, then continued:
"When I was your age, my father — Lewis — was an ordinary man in people's eyes. Kind, hardworking, but he hid a secret from us. We never knew the nature of his work, and he sometimes told me he had another name besides 'Lewis', but he had abandoned it long ago."
The sound of the sea rose from outside (Whooosh...) as if the waves were listening with them.
Klein continued in a quieter voice:
"We were a happy family, we laughed and ate together, and my father told me stories. He once told me about an old friend of his... he said he was an eccentric man named maybe 'Dan'. He fought monsters, killed demons, and protected the world. I used to laugh, I thought he was making up tales to make me proud of him, but I was always proud of him anyway."
He paused for a moment, looked at his son who was half-asleep, then added in a soft voice broken by pain:
"But when I turned eighteen, my father changed. He became different, mysterious, moody whenever he looked at me, until we became like enemies. Words ceased between us, and we only spoke when necessary. After many years, we reconciled a little... then when I decided to marry your mother, he strongly opposed me, he tried to ruin that moment. I didn't understand him then, so I left, I came to Liverpool, and worked with a kind sailor who taught me the secrets of the sea... and there I settled down."
Klein smiled as he gently touched Edgar's hair:
"Then you were born... my son. It was the most beautiful day of my life. I remember going out to the port, lifting you high, and shouting at the top of my voice: I have been blessed with a son! And the people were laughing and congratulating me... but one thing spoiled my joy."
He fell silent, his voice trembling slightly as he whispered:
"I saw him there... my father, Lewis. He was standing far away, wearing a black robe as if he were at a funeral, looking at me with lifeless eyes. I wanted to approach, but he... disappeared, like ships disappearing into the depths of the seas, and now he appeared again with his message and acted in the same way. I truly hate him and his strange bracelets and his even stranger mask. I've really come to hate him."
Klein looked towards his son, finding him fast asleep.
He smiled sadly and whispered to himself:
"It seems my emotions leaked out... like water seeping into a ship."
He rose slowly, turned off the lamp (Click... clink) and closed the door behind him, saying in a soft, affectionate voice:
"Goodnight, my son..."