Scooter walked down the boardwalk. The dusk sun was just about to dip into the horizon. He was here to meet someone. He wanted to know more about something, or rather, someone. He wanted to learn more about the further truth of the Legendary Whaler.

The town of Resplendence had a long storied past with the sea. The Resplendent Sea upon whose shores the town was built. The town was named after the sea and the sea was so called after its abundant seafood and the iridescent sheen of its foam. It was the spice that gave the Resplendent Sea its signature sheen. The waters which flow in the bay are green for the very same reason. The tale of the legendary whaler had its roots in this very town more than 200 years ago.

A seawall higher than a man was tall stood steadfast against the advances of the sea. Only the highest and stormiest of waves would hope to splash their water upon the boardwalk above. Residents of the town lay safe upon the foundations of Resplendence, knowing that the sea will not wash their homes away.

Scooter walked down the boardwalk. He ignored the number of shops and stalls peddling souvenirs, snacks, and services. He was here for a very specific reason. He saw him standing by an old lamp post. The lamp post was clearly old. Its well-cared-for wrought-iron post was of a style newer posts do not adhere. Upon its top was a lamp once lit by candles or oil but had since been retrofitted to accept electric lighting.

The man who stood by the post idly turned his head until his eyes met with Scooter's eyes. He was an old man, wearing a faded wine-red coat, matching cap, and brown pants. He had lightly wrinkled brown skin and a headful of grey hair. He leaned on the post, puffing a smoke on his tobacco pipe.

This must be him.

Scooter approached the old man and asked, "Excuse me, but are you perhaps Flotsam?"

The old man focused on Scooter. His mustache bristled at the mention of the name. "Yes, I am he. What do you want?"

"I've heard that you knew a lot about the legendary whaler. I've always wanted to know more about him, but I'm not really sure if the details they give are really legit," Scooter answered.

The old man scoffed. "It's a legend, kiddo. It's in their nature to be dubious."

"Please, Mr. Flotsam. At least tell me your story," Scooter pled.

"Erg...," Flotsam mumbled for a moment, thinking it over. "Fine."

"Ahem," the old man cleared his throat. It's clear that he had told this tale many times before for he spoke it with well-practiced voice.

Flotsam turned to the sea. He leaned on the parapet of the seawall as he turned his gaze to the setting sun. The green sea, shining with the colors of the rainbow, extended to as far as the eye can see. It reflected the sun's fiery image like a flowing broken mirror. The calm waves of the low tide rocked the boats that fish in the distance. Many of the boats return to shore, to moor onto the stone piers and drop their catch on a nearby fish landing.

"Once upon the time, there was a whaler who lived in Resplendence. Like many who lived in this town, their livelihoods depended on the Resplendent Sea, may that be fishing, pearl-diving, or whaling. Whaling back then wasn't a illegal. In fact, it was a very important industry, the source of much oil and wax."

"What was the whaler's name? Nobody seems to know."

"They are right. Nobody knows for sure."

"Do you at least know one suspected one?"

"Some say that the whaler's name was Quest, but well, I have been told that that may be a nickname."

"Is the whaler a boy or a girl?"

"Nobody knows. Gender was a trait people take as irrelevant to the story and leave it. You can call the whaler he, she, or they if you want, but I'm calling him he for the sake of my story. He could have been a lady for all we care.

Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, the whaler.

Whaling is a dangerous job. To hunt whales upon the Resplendent Sea, one must take their boat to the deep where the waters turn from cilantro green to azure blue. Boating in these parts of the sea is dangerous. Beside the whales, there are large monsters who call the waters their hunting grounds. Many a brave fisher and whaler had perished from being capsized and eaten by these beasts of the sea.

Quest the whaler had whaled in these deeps before, and was confident to find success there. Alongside his trusted apprentices, they had speared a couple whales and some fatty fish with their black harpoons.

They loitered in the deep blue looking for beasts to attack. Minutes turn to hours and morning turn to afternoon. They watched the shadows which swim beneath the waves. They vigilantly watched for anything particularly large that moves beneath the waves.

It was then that it appeared. Like a big cat pouncing from its hiding spot, the beast leapt into the air. It leapt with such great height that its full majesty was in full view of Quest and his boys. The world seemed to slow as it gracefully flipped in the air, letting them see it fully in all angles.

This was the beast made the whaler a legend."

"I've heard that the whale isn't actually a whale but a sea serpent with emerald scales. Is it true?"

"What? That sounds outrageous, but not unbelievable. Nobody actually knows for sure what the beast looked like. There weren't photographs of it, only drawings that got into the tabloids."

"I suppose that's a point of contention. The records only called the whale the whaler caught as Zee Beest."

"I give that the records did not mention what it looked like."

"Yeah, it did not. Stories and tabloids seems to conflicting on whether it was a whale, a serpent, or a very large marlin."

"Ah, the appearance of the sea beast is not particularly important to the legend. Replace it with any fearsome monster you desire and the story remains basically the same. Some details and takeaways are changed, but the skeleton and guts of the matter stay the same."

Flotsam paused for a moment to think. He turned to the distant horizon across the sea. A sliver of the sun shone above it as it slowly but surely set beneath the waves. Sky had transitioned from red to black-blue as evening encroached on dusk and the treatise of twilight had come to an end. Up above, beyond the silver clouds that obscure the skyward view, the stars as it had been seen by the ancients glowed with their characteristic starlight. They filled an otherwise empty sky with glittering dots. He puffed a smoke from his pipe.

His current companion, Scooter paused in his notetaking. He had brought out a notebook to take note of Flotsam's words. He wordlessly awaited the continuation.

And so, Flotsam continued his story.

"The magnificent sea beast that they had witnessed that day had an underbelly the color of ivory. Its yellow eyes were closer to gemstones, orbs of topaz, than eyes belonging to a living thing. On its back was a hard shell not dissimilar to a turtle's shell with scutes made of bluestone.

It felt like the world was on pause as he and his apprentices watched the beast flip in the air, mesmerized. The mist and droplets thrown into air had produced sparkles and rainbows as they fell. The whiskers attached to its face twirled like white ribbons in the air.

Too enthralled by the display, they hadn't reacted fast enough to get themselves out of danger. The beast returned to the waters with a resounding splash, and such act had created some serious waves. Waves high and frequent, their ship rocked dangerously, threatening to throw some of them offboard. The final high wave had rocked the boat enough until the seacraft they manned had tilted far enough for it to capsize.

The whaler and his apprentices was dunked into the salty water and the ship they rode had flipped upside-down. Although this would have disheartened many fishers and sailors, this did not do so to our dear Quest. The witnessing of the beast at hand had given him enough heart to look for it afterwards.

Coast guards took note of their capsized ship and carried the crew to dry shore. The guards had not seen the beast's display, and they didn't believe their story, not even a bit, but they did decide to entertain it for the sake of the sopping men.

Many had thought that it would right here and there that they would die. The sea flipping their ship and swallowing their equipment had failed to dampen their hearts. For even though Quest was one ship short, his witnessing of the grand beast had ignited a fire in his heart.

Enthralled by the beauty of the beast, the whaler intended to catch this rare beast for him to treasure. He had declared to the world that he would catch this majestic beast. Others laughed at him, and his crew groaned in displeasure.

He wasn't kidding when he had proclaimed to the town 'I shall capture this majestic beast.' His apprentices had known the man to be very stubborn and simply groaned upon the thought of braving the seas just for an elusive beast.

The whaler had taken a loan from the bank to get his broken ship fixed. Once it had been seaworthy again, he had assembled his crew to sail for the beast, but his trusty crew had halved that day, abandoning the whaler. They reckoned that they a more stable income on other pursuits. They certainly would need a stern talking to. Regardless, the whaler and his crew sailed off.

They sailed off into the deep for a week. They waited and watched vigilantly for the rearrival of the sea beast. They feasted on pickled sausages and vegetables. They were ready to abandon the mission and retry another day when they almost missed it.

The beast reappeared to their expedition. It was just as majestic as they have see it before. They watched many whales and sea beasts near the ocean's top, but they're quite sure, the whaler's quite sure that the beast that appeared before them was the beast they've met before.

'Wondrous beast of the Resplendent Sea, I have sought you,' the whaler shouted. 'Fire the chains and harpoons, boys. Tonight, we shall have my prize.'

Harpoons and chains flew to bind the majestic beast. They hooked upon its hide and held it fastly to their grip. The chains bound the beast to their whaling ship. The beast wrestled against the lines to free itself whilst the crew fought against its strength to pull it up their ship.

The fight against the wriggling beast had disturbed the surrounding water. Born from the violent thrashings were the high waves that threaten to tip the ship over. The sea surrounding them were stained wine-dark by the bleeding monster they have.

But alas, the fight wouldn't end in their favor. The violent thrashing of the beast at hand had weakened the links of their chains. One by one, their chains snapped, rocking the boat with the force. Weighed bound less and less chains, the beast began to retreat. The remaining chains weren't able to hold the beast in place, and their pullers were dragged along the floor by the beast's monstrous strength.

But the legendary whaler didn't give up. He held on to the last remaining line and pulled in vain. The beast's strength was incomparable to the whaler's who was summarily dragged to the bottom of the sea.

The crew waited a few minutes for their captain to surface, but after an hour of waiting, the whaler had failed to reappear. They had decided that he had perished to the sea, stubbornly holding on to the chains hooked onto the beast.

They returned to port, bearing the grave news. His mother and father had borne tears hearing of this news. And so upon the shores north of Resplendence, they built him his grave. The grave still stands to this day, but whatever inscriptions had been carved upon the stone had been smoothed out by waves and time."

Flotsam stopped with his taletelling. His tale at hand had come to its end. He puffed a smoke on his tobacco pipe and look at Scooter a bit expectantly.

"That's it?" Scooter asked, stopping his notetaking. "That's the end of the story?"

"Yes," Flotsam answered simply.

"That's not how I expected to end," Scooter replied. "All the stories had said that the whaler lived and came ashore to tell tale."

Flotsam chuckled. "Ah, that's just one of the additions that got added over the years. The whaler drowned."

Scooter frowned, scribbling notes. "So I can safely say that anything anyone says after they wrestled with the beast is fiction?"

"Yes," Flotsam answered.

"What was Quest's parents' name?" Scooter asked.

"Nobody actually knows."

Scribbling down his final notes, Scooter put away his notebook. He then bowed in respect to his elder before saying goodbye.

"Thank you for your story," Scooter said. "It had been enlightening to speak with you."

"No worries. The pleasure is all mine," Flotsam replied, giving Scooter a toothy smile.

Scooter went away satisfied. He had talked to one of oldest individuals in Resplendence and managed to get a story out of him. Now to corroborate his story with all the other stories.

He walked down the boulevard, heading for home. At the end of the road awaited the bus stop that would take him home. He lived in another town, and the bus would bring him there in a timely manner.

Meanwhile, Flotsam watched Scooter disappear into the distance. He continued to stand there for no reason. At this time, the boardwalk had teemed of people. It was a rather popular location for both locals and out-of-towners.

The lamp posts illuminated the boardwalk with warm incandescent light. Food stalls set themselves up to cater hungry park-goers, and shops of many kinds opened their premises to visitors. The warm ocean wind blew across the boardwalk, bringing with it the salty and spicy smell of the sea. The waves crashed upon the sea wall rather peacefully that evening.

Flotsam approached one of the food stalls. This one sold hotdogs in both buns and sticks. The vendor boiled the hotdogs in a shallow pan that took half to counter area.

"I'll have two chili dogs please," Flotsam ordered.

The vendor happily served the ordered food. They handed two hot hotdogs in buns covered special meaty spicy sauce. "That would be 24 pieces in total."

Flotsam accepted the food and paid the vendor the price. He held on to the hotdogs as he roamed the boardwalk. He came to some stairs that led to the short rocky shore below.

He descended down the stairs. Down here it was dark, but it bothered not Flotsam. The lights above couldn't illuminate the rocky shore below. Waves crashed upon the coast, sending the foam reaching for the high sea wall.

Flotsam sat upon a flat rock that jutted upon the shore. He waited there for someone. He ate one of the chili dogs as he waited.

But he didn't wait for long. Halfway through his chili dog, the one he waited for arrived. Their form rose from the surf, translucent, practically invisible in the dark night.

They were a sea serpent with scales of emerald. They held their head a foot above Flotsam's height. Inset upon their sockets were eyes shimmering like precious stones. Affixed upon their sharp triangular head were a pair of wicked horns. The figure smiled, showing rows of serrated teeth.

But the old man, Flotsam, wasn't intimidated. He looked upon the beast that had appeared before him as if they were just another man.

Flotsam opened his mouth and addressed the sea serpent: "Hey, dad."

To which the serpent replied: "Hey, sport."

Flotsam chuckled. "I'm fine. I just stood by on the boardwalk."

"Ah yes. It is a pretty place," the serpent replied. "It wasn't a thing back in my time."

"By the way, I bought you a hotdog."