THREE YEARS, 2 MONTHS AND 8 DAYS PRIOR ------------
"What are you doing, Dad?" Asked younger Owen curiously, leaning over his father's shoulder. He had to almost shout because of the noise the strong wind made as it rushed past them (this was dimmed very much in his memory, he remembered the conversation as if there was no wind at all).
"Leaving my mark," His father replied without turning, "So many things come and go, Owen. Everyday... and everyday people disappear, or die. If you don't leave your mark on this ... world, it will forget you."
(Owen's mind struggled to fill the gaps in his memory - some words were lost to time)
The man stepped back proudly, knife gripped in his hand and tree trunk before him. "There, son," He exclaimed as he turned to look at the 10 year old behind him, "Now this world won't forget us."
"What is it?" Asked Owen as he steps closer, his hair - longer than it is now - being whipped around by the strong wind.
His father leaned forward and traced the roughly carved outer circle with his finger. "O, for Otto, that's me." Moving his hand downwards, he traced the innermost circle, "O, for Owen, that's you."
Owen scrunched up his face slightly as he looked at it, and the silence was heavy for a few seconds before he remarked, "It looks like a donut..."
"... You have to make the carving really, really deep else it won't stay for long enough."
"Long enough for what?"
"Why, long enough for it to be remembered, of course. Not much good leaving your mark on the world if it doesn't stay, now is it? This is our secret, Owen. This symbol..." He touched it again, and it made him grin, "It stands for a secret group, did you know that? Far out at sea..."
"Real pirates?" Asked a wide-eyed, awestruck boy.
"Yes, pirates, Owen. Really dangerous ones, which is why ... she'd tell... I love your sister, but she's always ... helping people, and ... the right thing, y'know?"
Seeing his son nod vigorously, he continued, "But real pirates aren't all sunshine and rainbows, Owen, they steal treasure after all. So it would be really bad for this pirate group if anyone knew this symbol was here, right?"
"Right, Dad.".
Father and son shared a grin.
"Owen? Did you know that cave on Summernear, the bricked up one, that used to be the headquarters of the group. I've heard rumours there's still treasure in there..."
"Wow, really? That's so cool! Is it real? Like REAL pirate treasure? Could we get in? Could I see it?" An excited Owen asks his dad who simply smiles.
PRESENT DAY ------------
Owen relived this memory as he clutched the notebook, but this faded memory did not tell the whole story. There were pieces of their conversation, be it sentences or words that he simply could not recall. He didn't know what colour shirt his father wore, or the journey home - but these trivial things did not matter. Still, a voice deep inside him told him something was amiss, but he ignored it as he always did.
Just then, he heard a voice echo from the top of the cliff, "OWEN! GET HERE NOW! IF YOUR DINNER GETS COLD I AM NOT HEATING IT UP!"
His sister. Sighing, he closed the book and turned from the tree to leave, but something stopped him. What if she saw the notebook? What would she say? She'd probably tell him it couldn't have been his dad, she'd find some reason that I couldn't possibly be true, and Owen desperately needed this to be true. He stashed the book in a hollow bit of the tree, and left it there, already planning to return as soon as he could.
ns 172.71.254.135da2
and then Add to home screen.