The fate of the smuggler

Nikita T

The fate of the smuggler

Prologue

En Cloud sat on the beach, gazing at the water. Not far from him, perched on the trunk of a fallen tree, Feta sat with her eyes narrowed, watching tiny crabs scuttle across the sand. The girl was trying to capture a fleeting moment gifted to her by nature.

She wanted to finish her drawing before these clumsy red and brown creatures, hurrying toward the sea, vanished beneath the salty, lightly frothing waves.

The waves seemed light and airy. Warm rays played with the glints on the water, magnifying the colorful fish and the red and brown crabs that sought refuge from the sudden danger posed by the girl and her companion.

They reminded her of a childhood spent somewhere far away in space, at the other end of the galaxy, when she was but an innocent child.

Vague memories came to her of parents who took her to the seashore, where she played with similar translucent, foaming waves washing over sandy shoals, observing the myriad inhabitants of the deep.

Feta took out her sketchbook and tried to apply vibrant colors to her drawing, hoping to breathe life into the blue-green sea that remained black and white on the page—a sea into which, for some inexplicable reason, she had not yet infused vitality.

The pencil glided over the thick sheet of papyrus, tracing the image before her eyes. The sea changed. Now it seemed alive and moving. The sky and waves merged with the landscape her companion was watching as he sat a short distance away.

En Cloud had done his best to provide her with everything she needed, bartering papyrus and pencils for the water he now possessed. He had seen such drawings before. The Commander knew that Feta possessed a divine talent bestowed by the Creator, and the drawing would turn out remarkably truthful and realistic.