The fire lasts for three entire days.

In the beginning, Andrew is so afraid to lose the flame he spends nearly all of his time nursing it, feeding it periodically with bark that he peels off the raft.

But on the night of the third day, he runs out of both wood to burn and energy to keep watching the fire. He’s stripped naked every inch of the raft’s surface to feed it, so when the sky starts to pour, it feels like the right time to give up and take a break.

By morning, Andrew is back to his starting place in terms of being fire-less. The good thing, though, is that his glass bottle is now finally filled with water he can actually drink. A side effect of last night’s rain, which has been hard enough to destroy his fire, is that his belly is now filled and so are all his containers.

Andrew can’t really be upset about the fire.

Glancing around the raft, he decides to do spend the rest of the day doing some work on it. Using the last of his rope and wood, he fortifies the logs that are in the water or in danger of breaking away. He soon discovers that without any tools, the most elaborate repair work he can do is simply slapping wooden parts together and binding it all with rope. It’s both wasteful and ridiculously ineffective. So, he quickly changes tactics and turns focus onto making a set of tools.

Last night’s rain has also brought him other things. All along the starboard side are thick layers of seaweed. Andrew changes the dressings on his foot, uses some more as sunscreen by slapping them all over his skin, and the rest he hangs out to dry. Turns out, dried seaweed is edible!

Then there are the things the sea god brought. Andrew has taken to calling the mysterious being helping him the Sea God, at least for now. He knows that it’s likely the female voice he heard at the very beginning, but he doesn’t want to come to any conclusions just yet. Besides, if it really is Victoria Summers, it will mean she is behind two of the most traumatizing events in Andrew’s entire life. And he isn’t ready to pin that responsibility on any one individual yet.

So, Sea God it is.

Andrew goes through the new materials he’s given. A few more nails, a piece of hard metal the size of his hand, and half of an empty coconut.

It seems strange for something like a coconut shell to be found so far out at sea. Andrew remembers reading a passage on these hairy fruits in one of Aragon Dragonia’s books.

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“Located on the eastern seas off the coast, a traveler’s salvation hangs on the discovery of these life-giving trees. Providing more than sustenance and valuable resources, the tree is a symbol of survival, of hope. It shows travelers that even amongst desert beaches and barren sand dunes, there is life still.”

Life. Survival. The idea he may be close to shore is almost too exciting for Andrew. He tries not to think about it, because if he does then he will start to hope. And out here, hope is a dangerous thing.

The shell has been picked clean, so Andrew leaves it next to his water maker. It is one size larger, which is good. It can hold more. And also, finding a smaller shell to fit in it won’t be as difficult.

But Andrew decides to come back to it later. Even though his current water setup is just barely keeping him from the edge of dehydration, and having the coconut shell just sit on his raft doing nothing is a huge waste of resources, Andrew still believes that creating crafting tools is more important.

Besides, if I have tools I can make weapons. And if that shark comes back again, I don’t want to welcome it empty-handed.

So he sets out to work. And by the time sunset hits him, Andrew has finished whittling a handle out of wood, and managed to fasten the piece of metal onto its end. With some experimenting, he finds that if he hammers the metal with the bottle, he can shape it. Of course, he’s careful to wrap the bottle up first in his socks to prevent it from shattering.

Eventually, he gets the metal to just the shape he wants - a crescent on one side and flat on the other, like a half-moon.

Andrew holds it up to the darkening sky. The light catches the side of the metal.

There. He’s got an ax.

For the next days, Andrew wields his ax like a painter with a brush, his raft the canvas. Any splinters he smoothly removes, and rotten pieces of wood he dissects away. The Sea God has also provided him with more wood and a bit of swollen rope. Andrew puts these to great use, expanding his raft and further stabilizing it until it is once again back to its former dimensions.

Andrew walks around the edges of his raft proudly. It’s taken days, but he’s managed to restore all the floor space taken away by the shark, more so even. He’s now able to walk five paces in either direction without getting his feet wet.

He’s so pleased with that, he almost cries.

Finally, Andrew can sit down without feeling like his world will tip over with the tiniest movement. It’s euphoric, like he’s spent the last year standing and has now sat down for the first time.

He exhales, and feels more exhausted than he ever was. He lifts his face to the sky, then back to the water, breathing in the crisp morning air.

And that’s when he sees it, a tiny toothpick sticking out from the blue horizon.

Andrew shields his eyes and tries to get a better look.

No, it isn’t the light playing tricks. It really is a toothpick, light brown and framed against the rising sun. There’s more to it. As the sun gradually shifts above it, the toothpick gains more detail. It grows hair. Green, leafy hair.

Andrew jumps up so far his feet leave the ground.

It’s not a toothpick. It’s a tree!

Andrew’s heart begins to race. He steps as far to the edge of his raft as he dares, squinting at the tree as hard as he can.

There’s no mistaking it. It’s exactly what it looks like.

A tree. Which means, an island!

Andrew raises his arms to the sky and cheers. Then he kneels and gives thanks to the gods above and below for his salvation.

His suffering is over. Finally, he can get off this damn raft and walk on solid ground again.

He just hopes the currents don’t change direction.