Gilded Bay deserted, my organs can go on without me

keepin vague about some things!

He had never thought of himself as the type to run from his problems; the Mayfair had been introspective from the beginning, always studying and discovering and rediscovering himself. He wondered if that was what he was doing now. Rediscovering himself. For the second time in such a short period, Cortland was chiding himself for his decision to run. Briefly, the boy considered that he should not have parted from Mona, either, but— he still believed they would always find each other again.
The sunset boy could not be so certain he would see @Phocion or Ava again. He searched for them still, having encountered many but feeling no inclination to linger without them. Cortland could not know he was going the wrong way entirely— he was many things, but great at directions was not one. The journey was not without its merits; occasionally, he discovered something wonderful.
Tonight was such an occasion. The Mayfair was unusually restless when darkness took the land, finding his days strangely lethargic now. He set off under the soft blanket of night with little but the stars and sea in his thoughts. The night was young, and the tide had not yet come in fully when Cortland discovered the bay. He paused, breath catching, and took in the sight of the pools and spires not yet swallowed by the ocean. The water was ink and argent in the night, reflecting the moon in ripples as it crept up the shoreline; enchanted, he dared a few steps closer to the water's edge. Each cold, rising wave came to lap idly at his toes, bringing the water further inland so slowly the boy barely noticed. He was gazing skyward now.
Cortland must have stood for some time in the water; it felt like minutes, and suddenly he was elbow-deep in water. The realization startled him, but the moment passed quickly. He was undisturbed by the frigid slosh of saltwater around him— it offered some strange comfort. Alone as he was, the ocean embraced him.