If I wasn't so great, the sword wouldn't be protecting me. It doesn’t matter if I believe in myself or not. I know by heart that I don’t have much of a choice on this.

If the queen earnestly wanted me dead, wouldn’t I be dead? She knows that at least this sword can do it. 

“I can join you, you know. We can survive together.”

“I don’t know. You’ve done enough for me already. You don’t have to join me. In these challenging times, being in a group gets you killed.”

“Maybe sometimes, but it also offers you a possible reason to live.”

My deceased father said fearfully, “Wait for me” and I did. I waited until it was ridiculous to continue waiting. I kept repeating to myself to wait just a little more. I didn’t get tired of waiting. But I realized he might never come back. 

Whether I agree to it or not Rachel will follow my lead. We have to head to Colega Ocean. It’s not far from Baremore Village. We decide to stay in the local inn for the night before heading to the ocean. She pays for a room with two beds. We don’t talk frequently. She’s much more confident in us than I am. I’m moderately excited to go to Colega. It should be a straightforward task and it’s in my favorite kind of place. That night before our journey I dream of being burned alive by the sword. I was practicing with Rachel and as I swung it the flames of the sword engulfs us.

We run into Titan as we’re leaving Freymoor. He wants to assist me. He took some vacation time out. Not knowing what was going to happen to me really stressed him out. I introduce him to Rachel. I can tell that he’s afraid of her, but he doesn’t say so. We go to the shipwreck together.

He asked about meeting the queen.

“Meeting Queen Ellen was intense,” I sighed wearily as I picture her. “I think I still have goosebumps from that meeting. I was extremely anxious. I didn't know what to say or what to ask. I had many questions but when I was face to face worth her my mind went blank.”

We go to where I was assured the shipwreck was located. After a few hours of walking, we arrive at a shimmering river. A brisk wind refreshes me. The pleasant river will carefully steer us to Colega Ocean. 

It was precisely a two-day walk before we got to the travel barge headed down the shipwreck. There were a few small boats. We were going to each take one because of the size but they were severely broken. There was only one that we had to share. Hunched over the oars of a small boat, Rachel rowed us to the shipwreck. She was rowing hard. 

What usually seems pleasant has inevitably changed as I stare anxiously at the wrecked ship. I haven't seen something like this before. It doesn't belong here. Not like that.

By Cristina Collazo