Tales as old as time keep finding its way towards our world like the waves of ocean, eventually crashing against the shores and leaving a hazy trail. One such tale, I found in the wreckage that I thought I would become.
My tiny boat wrecked on the rocks near the beach. The waves saved me, it brought me to the shore. Alive but alone. A week has passed by. It wasn’t tough to survive the island, it was tough to remain alive with the demons that hunted me every single day. How long has it been in this tiny boat that was expected to bring me to my death? I succumbed to my injuries and fainted even before the boat passed across the misty orange clouds of justice. Have I lived past those clouds or am I dead? What brought me here? I’m not sure of all that either. But I heard my people say, “No one survives the sea. Especially not magi people. Sea devours them.”