The wind flew past Frent's hair, dragging it through the skies, mirroring the waves churning below. A blend of scarlet, honey, and a tender blue haze painted the dusk covered horizon. The sun above, though fading, emitted a soft ray of light, warm to the touch, reminiscent of a mother's embrace. As night approached, stars began to overtake the skies, and clouds fled with the fading sun. Frent's gaze shifted to the distant horizon, a vast sunset occured before his vessel. His vessel was tinted with a soft brown, slightly withered from decades of use. His vessel resembled one commonly seen during the Victorian era. His vessel was small — crafted to hold no more than 3 souls. His small vessel was crafted fifty years ago by his late grandfather; though, despite its age, the vessel still holds on an air of dependability — still effective for voyages. A white flag with a half moon crescent danced stop the vessel, with the words, 'The Alons' stitched upon it, catching the breeze originating from the horizon. From afar, a mysterious island silhouette quickly caught Frent's attention. Frent quickly mumbled.. 'Could it be?.. The land where dreams flourish with the cost of the lives of those foolish enough to challenge it.' Frent's drowsiness originating from his 3 day voyage vanished — replaced with a faint, yet soft smile. A spark ignited within him, a feeling brighter than any sun. His eyes, once dull, was replaced with a soft, childlike awe — he could barely contain his exhilaration, what quickly started off as a soft mumble quickly shifted into a proud speech: I've made it!… exclaimed, echoing into the vast, shallow horizon, swallowed by the void that laid within the ocean. In the blink of an eye, he arrived at his destination. He arrived at a shore lost to history. The laughter of its previous inhabitants had long faded, leaving behind a void, seemingly deprived of any life. Though, Frent knew this was a facade, for he knew a pavise concealed secrets incomprehensible to the fleeting sight. Frent often heard tales regarding an obscure entrance that led to another realm — hidden at the end of the world. Though, this place was not always hidden; In fact, it was once the passage early humans once traversed to arrive to our world — or so he was told. Frent dreamed of always setting out on a voyage to this mysterious realm, ever since he was a kid. Now, to the present day, he has arrived. Frent looked around cautiously, for he was unaware of the path that laid before him. Stepping off his vessel, Frent cautiously anaylzed his surroundings, noting the numerous trees along with countless small shrubs. Situated on the shrubs were odd berries. Frent tentatively walked towards the shrubs — hoping to investigate their odd appearance. Once he was closer, the berries true appearance unveiled; berries slightly larger than a blueberry, stained with odd patterns from tip to toe resembling small bolts of lightning. Additionally, the stem in which the berries grew from were thorny, similar to stems that would commonly be seen with roses. He was appalled by such a discovey; Frent had never seen such unique berries before. Frent knew he had to collect some to research further later — but, for now, his main objective was to find the hidden passage that led to the other realm; he picked five of the berries and stored it within the leather pouch, embedded with a moon creast deriving from his family situated at the middle, surrounded by small metal encasings from left the right to support the structure of the pouch, he was holding. Frent shifted his gaze upwards, now seeing titanic mountains in the distance. Frent wanted to explore further, but he was aware that the sun would soon slip beneath the horizon. So, Frent decided to momentarily stop his search — and instead focus on crafting a shelter for the night. Tucked within his leather pouch was a small, rusty pocket knife, a tool barely useful for anything other than slicing small fruits , or defending against a small critter. Frent grasped the knife into his hand, slowly venturing into the forest of countless trees and shrubs, accounting for the possibility of encountering beasts — though life existing here was nearly impossible. He cautiously cut down several shrubs near his vicinity, then connected them with a small, silky rope he held within his pouch. In addition to the rope that dwelled within his pouch, he also had a makeshift glue type substance he bought from his hometown. He slowly crafted his makeshift shelter to surround him — just useful enough to protect from potential rain. After hours of work, his task was finally complete — and it was perfect timing, as he could now advance toward his slumber for the night; he was tired. He slowly laid on the makeshift pillow he made out of the shrubs he scavenged, pulling the thin, nearly hallowed blanket over him — only a partial shield against the piercing cold. His eyes fluttered, surrendering to fatigue, his vision blurred, the sight before him softened, his shoulders slumped, the tension slowly fading... The sun slipped beneath the horizon… darkness consumed the day… The night swallowed the last sight of day. He could barely hear the whispers of wind through the trees, nor the water pouring from the nearby waterfall. Then — a faint rustle reached him from a distance. He slowly awoke from his slumber — though his body was limp and fatigued. His gaze, still blurry, graduedly opened, slowly analyzing every his surrounding, down to every detail; he could see nothing at first. After he recollected his thoughts, he quickly proclaimed in a tired voice, ' What was that..? Was that nearby?' …. He muttered once again, now in a recollected state, ' Life shouldn't exist here. It shouldn't be possible. All life should've migrated off this island, ' though — he knew he could not afford to take any chances. He quickly located his leather pouch, situated slightly elevated from his right shoulder. He opened his pouch, searching for his knife. He slowly stood up, now holding his rusted knife in his right hand. He cautiously migrated out of his tent, tentatively looking around — though he saw nothing at first….
Thud!
.... He could hear a small object being shattered in the distance.., '
what was that sound? ' he softly muttered quietly under his breath.... It was safe to say that He was now alarmed, adrenaline rushing through his blood stream — his heart beating quickly against his ribs…. His eyes now increasingly more focused, restlessly moving at every little sound, he quickly analyzed his surroundings once more, his shoulders were stiff to the touch, his legs were now slightly shivering, his hands, noticeably trembling... he could feel his grasp on his knife slightly loosened....