The Buoy

Follow our guide to Dear Esther's 'The Buoy' section. Navigate treacherous coves, explore ruined villages, and uncover the island's secrets as you follow the false beacon.

The dead on this island remain here, locked away in its coves and caverns. The sight at the end of trail confirmed as much. A fork awaited me, and I followed the path on the left, above the wrecks, as if lured by the scent of memory. A yellow light awaited me in the ocean. A false beacon, nothing more. I then descended upon the beach. The rust and rot roiled through my sight, and though curiosity bade me to proceed into the wreckage, it frightened me. Would I end up another pile of bones among the rocks?

The path around the cove led nowhere. My only option was to proceed inland again, and hope for a sign of purpose. As I headed into the hills I came across a large sinkhole, black and bottomless. It seemed apt, to encounter a path deeper into the island, but this would only end my search. Instead, I turned west again toward a slope where I discovered the ruined foundations of what must have once been a shepherd's village.

I explored the ruins aimlessly. The stable, now near fallen to pieces, was so rotten it was black. Old surgical tools and dark blood stains lay in a corner. I imagined the braying sheep and shepherd's steady hands. Strange to think that anything could give birth on the windy hills of this foreboding place. The bothy at the peak of the slope contained a sleeping bag and camping equipment. Could this have been my site? I exited the structure through the back and was reminded, again, that the red beacon in the distance was my only recourse. The path led down again, toward the shore. On the right I found another goat stable. More phosphorescent nonsense.

The path led to the shore, which led to a rocky cove and the entrance to the caves on the right. This would be my entry to the island's interior, where I have suspected it all to lead. Although the shore was once again safer than the alternative, it ended suddenly in the water. I waded back to the right, toward the mast in the sand. Ship's ribs nestled me until I passed and ventured into the entrance. A single candle goaded me forward, to a gaping maw lit by a phosphorescent aura.

My soul grows weary, Esther. This place shall end me, but not before I tear its secrets from its grasp. I leapt into the hole. Dreamt of childhood, the sun.