Out of the building was a large overgrown green yard with a single dirt road leading from the exit of the deceivingly small and time-worn castle to the main gate, The whole fort looked abandoned and ancient from the outside.

It was the first time Five had seen the crescent sun since he was too young to remember. But his friendly reunion was cut short. Excruciating pain, it burned his eyes and skin. He could barely see in front of him, he could barely breathe, he started losing consciousness. But this pain was nothing compared to the isolation he endured all his life; He bit his lip and pressed onward. The Master, unbothered by the suffering of the child in front of him as if he had seen such a sight dozens of times, gave him a moment for his eyes to readjust, then pointed him towards a cart parked outside the gate as if telling the boy to hurry up. Five would not waste his first and only chance to finally see the places and experience the things he had only imagined through writings. He squinted and walked at crawling speed, his pains were slowly subsiding with every step he took.

After slowly making their way to the destination, the Master nodded at the driver, and he promptly took out a strange-looking altar from the cart and placed his hand on its backside. It was a large pillar with a crescent sun on top and three hands coming out from the middle. The first one was the largest, making a fist; the second one was holding a flame; and the last was holding a strange hammer with symbols on it.

“Go on, kid, touch each hand once; it will tell us what power you have so that we can decide on your royal name.” said the cart driver, operating the altar from behind.

Five felt uneasy. Not only was it the first time for him to be outside the cell and not be treated like vermin, but the prospect of him having royal magical powers was unsettling. He held on tight to the rock under his sleeve and went forward to give each hand its turn. The whole shrine shone brightly until the light died out and only the hammer hand remained.

A clicking of the tongue could be heard from behind, the master’s face had now turned cold and disinterested. “A Smithborn... How unfortunate. Do what you want with him.” The guard laughed wholeheartedly and grabbed the boy, ready to let out all his frustration.

The guard’s hold on his arm was tight, a physical pain he had never felt before. His feeble juvenile limbs felt like they were about to be torn off, he had to do something before the guard dragged him inside. He knew with every fiber of his being; he would not survive if he did not retaliate. The guard was holding his hand so tightly that he punctured his frail skin, his blood making it harder for the guard to hold on.

After a struggle, Five got his arm free and slashed the guard's face with the sharp rock in his hand. The guard let go of him, with the rock ending up jammed in his leg in a spot where the leather was not covering it; it was as if the boy had been planning the attack. Five froze, the Master watching in shock.

The sharp glare of the Master dragged him out of his trance, waking up his primal instincts; this was his only chance to get away. He ran as fast as his feeble legs allowed him to. The furious guard was getting ready to chase him, his rage overpowering the pain of his wounds. “Leave him, I will not waste any more resources on a Smithborn. He is useless to me.” A cold, calculated whisper came out from his deceivingly gentle looking face. That was who the Master was. The monstrous owner of this land. The guard swallowed his anger and followed his master back into the fort.

“Running after a sickly child who will die in the forest; it seems that you are not just weak but also a moron... Now get me something to eat! This fruitless trip has left a sour taste in my mouth.”

One foot after the other, Five forced his weakened muscles to put distance between him and the fort, yet he failed to see what awaited him as he got even further into the unknown. A forest so dense with trees that one could get lost at the sight of it.

Finally, his lower extremities gave out, and he plummeted to the dirt below him. Bruised, bleeding, starved, and weak, despite all these things, the intensity of his mental anguish was so great that he no longer felt the physical pain. A Smithborn... What did this mean? Why was he mistreated for so long? Why did he have to waste away living in a wretched box of stones, fit only for the lowest of creatures... A solitary tear trickled down his face. He was not the type to cry; he would not let such weakness be shown on his face, but the things that had transpired today were too overwhelming, especially for a child.

Not even the only person who treated him as a human accepted him, not even the Master, who was the only person who smiled at him. He even went out of his way to teach him how to read and gave him the only entertainment he had in his life, that book he had read so many times...

Was he not worth even the smallest mercy? Was he just a useless monster? Five was tired, his mind was in utter chaos. He wiped the tear off his face, and after calming himself down, he looked around. For the first time in his life, he saw what he assumed was a tree. All around him, all he could see were trees. He was deep inside the forest now, he managed to crawl under the shade created by the branches surrounding him and sat to get away from the sun's rays that were still irritating his skin.

After a life between cold stone walls, with only artificial light sources. He had often dreamt about all these things he had not seen, he put himself in the shoes of the ascended king. His imagination had failed him, nature was even more beautiful and intense than what the book made it out to be.

He was breathing clear air for the first time. He was feeling the wind in his long red hair. A life where he would do what he wanted, a life of freedom filled with adventure, no longer would his only excitement of the day be reading and vermin hunting. The whistling of the wind coupled with the rustling of the trees created a calming symphony. Who could have thought that such magnificent scenery was always behind just a few meters of stone walls. He felt hope for the first time, he subdued his panic with this newfound strength and regained his usual composure in the process.

Having wasted enough time on emotional distractions, he started rapidly examining his surroundings and planning his next move. He noticed his wrists were still bleeding, he ripped pieces of the rags he had been wearing and fashioned two makeshift bandages to stop the blood loss. He picked up a thin branch that he used to support his weight on his exhausted legs and started slowly making distance between him and the prison, getting further and further consumed by the darkness of the forest until there was nothing but the absence of light.

He had walked all day until the sun had set; his eyes were accustomed to the darkness of his cell, but even there he had the flicker of candlelight. This absolute darkness was terrifying... He started to hear noises in the unknown. No longer was he sheltered from the unknown by his cold cell; no longer was he protected by his ignorance.

Would his story simply end like that? An unknown nameless child getting killed by some random beast whose face he could not even identify? He would not allow it; he mustered whatever energy he had remaining and sprinted as fast as his legs allowed... He stepped into nothingness. It was impossible to tell how long the fall was; his fall was broken by a few branches …and his arm. The impact made him lose consciousness.

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He opened his eyes to a blinding ray of sunlight, followed by a surge of pain, and his left arm was contorted backwards. He held on to his scream; he could not let his location be found. He warped it with his shirt around his arm and neck, so it wouldn’t move around too much. He must leave this forest, he would not survive another night.

His worn boots sank into the ground. What was this soft, warm, and grainy feeling underneath him? He was distracted by the sound of crashing and pounding. He looked up; it was the ocean... It was wide, wild, and the most beautiful shade of blue he had the privilege of laying his eyes on. He walked towards it, the earth beneath him warping as he moved.

He roamed around the shore for quite some time, the waves reached his feet from time to time, and he enjoyed the sensation of water drowning his feet. But He then stopped in his tracks to look at himself, he saw that the wounds he had accumulated since yesterday were filthy. He reached his hand inside the water, but he pulled it back up as fast as he dipped it in. It burned worse than when he held his hand on top of a candle. Was the sea poisonous? Why else would it burn his skin like that? Now was not the time to find out; he had to keep moving.

He walked for hours and could not find any land in the distance; all he could see was shore, until he stumbled upon a large wooden man-made object in the distance. Is this a ship? It wasn’t large, it was a standard personnel transport ship. It looked impressive, but if someone from the capital were to see it, he would find it quite ordinary.

He then looked to the other side and saw the prison he came from, he ended up back where he started. Was this the master’s ship? Why would he need a ship to come here? Did he come from one of the islands? Or …

Five realized that it didn’t feel as though he had come full circle, he did in fact go in a circle.

He opened his mouth in his desperation and frustration and uttered under his breath his first words in years: “... i … isl … island” Five's illusion of freedom was shattered with this realization, he in fact had not escaped. The prison was the whole island. But he did not despair, he had come this far... He would escape still, and his key to freedom was in front of him.

A crab’s pinch took Five out of his deep thoughts, he swiftly kicked it, causing it to land on a nearby tortoise. Awoken by the impact created by the flying crab, it quickly withdrew into its shell to hide. Something clicked, drawing inspiration from the tortoise's knack for concealment. Five had an idea. He stared at the crates next to the ship, there were seven crates in total, four of which were big enough for him to fit into.

The crewmen constantly meddled with the crates, making it impossible for him to sneak in and forcing him to be on the lookout for a chance. After a short wait under the shade of a tree, all the crewmen left the vicinity, allowing him to get closer to the ship and its cargo.

Five reached the crates, peeking inside. The first crate he opened was impossible to sneak into without injuring himself. The second one he checked happened to be filled with bread, he could easily sneak under and go unnoticed. He quickly got in and closed the lid above, using the last of his strength to cover himself with as much bread as possible. Suddenly, the adrenaline that was keeping the pain and exhaustion at bay ran out, and he passed out instantly.

The magnitude of the waves made the ship rack quite heavily; the heavy movement he was experiencing for the first time woke him up, but his exhaustion would not allow him to get out of his crate. Yet fate smiled, and he happened to be inside the crate that would allow him to regain his lost strength. With his only working arm, he reached out above to grab one of the many loaves of bread he was buried under.

He immediately took a bite from the one he happened to grab and forced the mouthful of bread down his dry throat. After choking because of how much bread he lodged in his throat, he managed to push them down into his empty stomach… Did bread like this always exist? Was this actual bread? softness such as this existed? He did not know if it was because he was starving or because he had never eaten anything people would consider actual food.

After regaining some strength he wiggled his way out of the crate he was in, making a loud sound. Suddenly it hit him, a sharp pain in his arm which was just dangling there, finally started to send excruciating pain all over his body. The urgency, fear, stress and bewilderment of his situation had made his brain ignore the pain, but after a full night's sleep, he was met with the toll his body had taken to escape his fate. He held his scream and started looking for water, his only source of light being the sunlight creeping through the wooden boards, but he was accustomed to such environments. After some rummaging, he eventually found a couple water barrels, and after drinking what must have felt like half of the water supply and cleaning his wounds, He heard the door creak open and immediately hid behind a crate. A soft, melodic whistling could be heard in the distance, accompanied by heavy footsteps. After a short while, the whistling was cut short.

“Huh? Who rummaged through the bread!” a hoarse voice said in sharp contrast to the whistling heard earlier.

Five peeked in between the cargo and could roughly see a fat, boarish man wearing a chef’s uniform; however, unlike the ones the prison chef would wear, this man’s clothes were clean enough to eat off of.

Five was trying to be as discreet as he could, but it was only a matter of time before he would get caught. How could he forget to close the bread crate. This didn't matter, he would have noticed someone had been inside the crate once he opened it. The man left the storage with haste and a temper, and shortly after, his loud voice could be heard from all over.

“I told you bastards to Close the lids. If you’re going through the food, do you guys want to eat stale bread?!”

Murmuring from the crowd followed his words, and the crewmen of the ship were agitated, looking at each other... Five got closer to the door to get a better view. He had to think of a better hiding place if he wished to continue on this voyage, this storage was surely commonly visited by the cook.

He then saw him—the cause of all this, the man he had known for years, the Master. He knew this ship belonged to him; he was just hoping not to be reunited with this deceiver so soon.

The master smirked; his crew wouldn't be dumb enough to leave the crate open . “ It seems we have a stowaway, who would have thought a rat would be this tenacious. You can come out there is nowhere to go this time. I just want to have a chat.”

The sole source of solace throughout his long years of captivity, this voice. Unconsciously, he took a tentative step forward, akin to a child seeking refuge in the arms of a father. He yearned to convince himself of his own misjudgment, unable to accept that The Master could have been aware the guards harbored animosity towards him, and his impulsive flight was an ill-advised response born out of his lack of experience. Surely, The Master never intended to inflict harm upon him. The Master had gone out of his way to impart the gift of literacy, making occasional visits just for him. It was through the Master's benevolence that he enjoyed delectable meals upon every arrival.

If only reality aligned with his wishes, for he knew the man in question was not one to be kept oblivious, nor one to make hasty decisions without adequate knowledge. Five pondered the reasons behind his initial actions. It was the courtyard, the expression that conveyed indifference. He knew he was sending him to certain death, yet he could not care enough to spare a moment longer.His weakened state, afflicted by anemia, agony, and weariness, caused the manipulative hold the Master had over him to briefly tighten once more.

His survival instinct finally overcame his childish thoughts, Five walked out of the room.

“Come, resilient youth, allow us to attend to your injuries; it appears that your arm is fractured.”

Five looked at this lying old man’s smirk, to most it would seem comforting, but to him… Five looked around; he had already made up his mind. No matter how much it hurt him before, no matter how scary it looked.

Five let out a sigh and jumped off into the unknown.

The master's face would convey a sense of pleasant surprise, “Leave him; I wasted enough time on something this meaningless.”

The commotion slowly dissipated, and The Master was left alone. He slowly leaned on the deck and stared at the ocean. He mumbled under his breath, his grin could still be seen in the reflection of the water.

“Five, I do hope we meet again.”