Dawn came, and the warm sun slowly made its ascent into the sky. The sea was calm, and the winds were gentle. Perfect weather for sailing, Aelfric thought to himself. He had spent about a week trying to build a small raft in secret, without the old man's knowledge. It was made from small pieces of driftwood that had washed up on the shore, as well as a large log that Aelfric had found on the side of a hill one day. Now, it was finally time to test its durability. He pushed it out onto the water, and to his surprise, it did indeed float. He tried to climb on top of it, at which point the raft began to sink. It was time to try a different approach. Aelfric began muttering to himself, as if reciting an ancient incantation. Immediately, the boat began to rise up, supporting his weight.
He looked back at the island one last time, and took a deep breath. The old man would understand. This was the right thing to do. He had to find answers, and staying on that small little island would never give him true peace. He was 17 years old, and nothing was going to prevent him from leaving. He turned around again to face the sea. As the gentle breeze pushed him and the raft forward, he could hear the same faint voices which he heard many years ago. They beckoned him to jump into the water and swim with them. But he didn't listen. He didn't heed them or even acknowledge them, but pushed on, using his small oar to push his vessel out further into the endless sea of blue. Where he was going, he had no idea, and where he would end up was a total mystery. He knew this was a dangerous plan, but it didn't stop him. He had heard the call of the moon on that calm, still night under the stars, and he knew he had to obey it.
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"Day 7." Aelfric kept notes of his voyage in a small, leather bound book that the old man had crafted for him. "No sign of land, or of any landmarks at all. All I can see is fish and sea. And the sky, which never changes." He sighed, putting the notebook into his bag. He had brought about a week's worth of food with him, but it was slowly running out. He wondered if he would ever reach anything, or if he would be stuck, alone, in the middle of the endless blue void that was the ocean. He thought of the old man, who was probably worrying sick about him back on the island. He thought of his loneliness, his emptiness, and all the things that he didn't know the answers to. He didn't really know who he was, or where he came from. Maybe he was a prince, descended from some ancient royalty. Or maybe he was just nobody. Abandoned at birth and left to fend for himself because his parents didn't love him. Maybe, maybe not.
Aelfric got up, rubbing his eyes. The sun was setting now, and he peeked out over the edge of the boat. Still nothing. No land, no islands. Just vast, open water. He wondered if he was making any progress at all. Rummaging through his bag, he found something soft. Taking it out, he saw that it was his old stuffed dragon. One of its button eyes was almost completely detached from the head, and some stuffing was exposed here and there. Aelfric stared at it for a while. It brought back memories from his childhood. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine them.
He remembered being alone, on the shores of the island. It was night time, and the moon and stars were veiled behind dark clouds. He remembered how he clutched the dragon and held it close to his chest, crying softly. He didn't remember why he was crying, or how he had gotten there. Then he remembered looking up and seeing the old man, although he looked less old then. The old man walked towards him and picked him up gently, and carried him back to the small wooden cabin. He didn't remember anything before that point. 96Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAavNNt3e5S
Aelfric opened his eyes again. The sky was completely dark now, and the waves became still. The air was quiet and calm. He felt a single tear fall down his face. He didn't know why that tear was there. Slowly he laid back down and pulled the blanket over himself, and fell asleep.
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