A writer, if you can believe it.
I rose at the crack of dawn and prepared myself for another day of delivering bread and asking a lot of questions. Mr. Haddock had informed me that I would be working for him until I had earned enough shells to pay off my debt to the inn. I was
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I made a fool of myself in the town of Cant today, simply because I was too proud to ask for help. A very masculine problem, I know. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning. I arrived at Cant just as the
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I left the lighthouse feeling renewed in both energy and purpose. For I finally had a direction. A destination. A heading I could navigate with. I made my way toward the town of Cant... so I could learn as much as possible about the lost continent of Occasia and, hopefully,
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It was a steep path that led up the cliff to the lighthouse, so by the time I arrived at its door, I was deeply tired and sore from walking. But I admit, the trip might have been worth it just for the view of the coast below. My boat,
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As I made my way ashore, I spotted a bespectacled man pouring sand into a strange machine. Curious, I approached him, hoping to get directions to the nearest town. "Sir," I said. "Can you tell me where we are right now?" The man adjusted his glasses
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I do not know this land. But I have braved its ocean. For a long time, there was only water and sky. Storms. Currents. Waves that seemed determined to carry me somewhere, though I could not say where. The storms did not tell me where I was. They only taught