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'The night is black and the stars are bright,'
A child drifts in the ocean, blindly following the stars above to bring them somewhere safe.
'And the sea is dark and deep,'
They turn on their little lantern, their day's journey across nowhere coming to an end. They tuck themselves to sleep, the light above them ever shining in the dark expanse.
They don't know why they're out here. They don't think they've known anything other than the very body of water they float upon, and their never dying trust in the stars. At least they aren't alone in what seems like their eternal home.
'The universe leads, we can only follow.'
Slowly, their eyes drift shut, comforted by the lit lantern that shines brightly right above them.
---
They wake again, the sun already stuck midway in the sky. The swaying lantern has died out a while ago, the glass cool to the touch.
They sigh, looking out towards the horizon, the shining water nearly blinding them. They're hungry, they have been since they can remember, only it seems to get worse.
They hug their arms around their torso, curling inward every time their stomach growls. Another day and still no idea what they're doing here.
The child's eyes dart towards the ocean's surface, surprised to find some floating mysterious plants, swaying with the water's movement. Their little appendages flowing along the gentle waves. They grab at one, the strange slimy and smooth texture nearly making them throw it far away from them.
Their hunger says otherwise, however. Even as scary as the slimy tube is, they take a bite, the loud crunch it makes being the only noise they can hear besides the water crashing and rocking their boat.
It's an odd texture, but it seems edible. They bite through it, but the plant gets stuck to the ocean floor, anchoring the boat from the endless void below. They tug at it, gripping and pulling it with their entire weight, before it snaps free.
The sudden movement throws them backwards, boat nearly tipping over, water filling the one place that was actually dry. They exclaim, rushing to get their blanket out of the way.
It was too late, their cloak and bedding soaked it all up like a sponge, spoiling the only dry comfort they had.
The little one's eyes well up with tears, the minor inconvenience enough to set them off and throw away the plant in a bout of anger.
Their face scrunches up, they reach out and cover their face with their palms, shoulders shaking as they cry.
A while after calming down, the child looks up again and notices the light finally dying, enabling them to pursue the stars again. They still aren't sure how to follow the sun's movement, always forgetting that one rhyme that tells them which direction the sun rises and sets.
A rhyme? What?
They look around the deep expanse above, noting the fact that one side of the sky is darker than the other, before focusing on the edge between the two shades.
They sigh wearily, their emotions from earlier already tiring them out. They can't let themselves sleep this early; they still need to find out if they're still following the right direction.
Ever so slowly, the stars begin to reveal themselves. They smile towards the lights, as if to say "Welcome back". Eventually, they find the constellation guiding them, the boat only slightly facing away from the direction.
They push at the freezing water, correcting the boat's position, before sitting down again, lazily watching the stars glitter like the ocean's water at day.
The only thing keeping them awake is their damp clothing and the still-wet bedding that definitely won't allow them to sleep comfortably.
They try not to think about it, looking down at the ocean again to maybe find the plant again, practically their only food source.
They find nothing, and instead, they look back up at the stars again, trying to create constellations with meaning between their dots.
Then, in the horizon, some stars blink out and never show up again, as if the sky itself is swallowing their friends whole, starting from one side of the sky.
They stare, watching the stars fade away to darkness in a strangely consistent way, revealing a vast shape moving through the sky.
The waves start becoming more and more intense, instead of smooth bumps in the water, they arch jaws agape as if ready to bite through the smaller ones.
Their boat is caught in the new movement, stars quickly fading from the sky the farther they get.
They cry out, their hand reaching towards the sky, begging them to come out again.
Behind them, a huge wave is ready to swallow them whole, its sharp foamy edge acting as teeth to bite into the lost child.
Without realizing it, it crashes into them. The boat, blanket, and lantern rendered useless by the water consuming them. The child bores through the water, taking deep breaths every time they surface, swallowing some of the salty water as it invades their lungs.
They don't know if they're passing out or if the sky is completely devoid of stars, but it all becomes dark. They desperately grip their hat, not allowing it to leave them too —scared it'll drift away if they drown in the water.
A strange sensation hits their back, as if their boat has found them again, the waves above calming down, only ebbing in and out.
They use this newfound footing to get themselves out of the water, their lungs screaming at them to do something.
They crawl up the surface; coughing all the while on their hands and knees. The lost child looks up again, searching for the stars, but only finding a few twinkling when wind hits, the leaves shuddering above. They figure the stars are hiding from them now. Maybe they've finally given the child a home, somewhere dry, and have left when the deed was done?
They look around at the new area, realizing it's nothing like the never ending water crashing just behind them. They look back again, surprised to find their lantern waiting there for them, the air inside the object keeping it afloat.
It can't be useful right now, but once it's dry enough it'll reveal a safe path where the stars refuse to.
---
As they venture deeper into this new ground, their clothing snags on everything around them. It's horrible, mud caked all over their soggy cloak and hat, using water as its glue.
Often, they trip and fall with no light to guide them, their stars gone; their lantern soaked. The dirt sticks to them and they wipe at their face trying to get it off, only to make it worse, mud and small rocks sticking to their face.
Finally, the child decides enough is enough. The impossible new events tire them out thoroughly and they don't have the patience for it anymore. They flop down next to a tree, using its huge roots as bedding and shelter from the strange noises around them.
Unfortunately, just as the sun rises anew, they drift off to sleep. They hug their hat and lantern close to their chest, scrunching up their face before falling into a peaceful sleep.
---
They wake to a start, eyes wide as they hear rustling in the bush near them. They don't move. Not an inch.
It's daytime now, so they can finally see around them, but they don't take their eyes off the bush.
A small animal jumps out, making the child jump up and roar out a war cry. The squirrel flees right back into the bush from the child's loud —rather unthreatening— sound.
They breathe out the air they didn't know they were holding, panting like they've run a mile. Forgetting the squirrel, they look around at the surroundings, trees and foliage are the only things they can see, the light breaking through the leaves, the view before the child is a beautiful mix of darkless and lightless. The sky above the leaves is still bright, they find the sun to be low in the horizon, they're unable to tell whether it's early in the morning or late into the afternoon.
They figure it's still morning, as they still feel tired from last night. Taking the opportunity of light, the sun finally guiding them, they explore the land. The grass below is soft and spongy, it's no wonder they fell asleep easily against the tree's hard roots.
---
Walking around was an easy task at first, still weak from being stuck in a little boat for what seemed like forever.
Nothing much showed itself, just the usual trees and scary noises coming from birds. The trees part, and they finally see something new. Huge lightless objects protrude from the ground very far away, the blinding sun making it difficult to see the details.
Upon closer inspection, it's actually a small town fairly close to the endless beach. Gardens sprouted everywhere, lightless vines with beautiful darkless flowers spotted each building, as if only the houses themselves were providing its nutrients. It made the town seem like it's been speckled by the stars.
A stranger approached them as they were caught wandering around the town.
"------------?"
The child doesn't understand a word they say, only noticing their confused body language. They look up at them with desperation, suddenly feeling like they're intruding somewhere, but they're so, so hungry...
"Hello, can you tell me where I am?"
The stranger pales, looking away and holding their temples. They shift uncomfortably, walking away after deciding to have nothing to do with the random teenaged child.
They sigh, shoulders slumping as they can only stare at the ground in exhaustion.
Taking a while to gather the energy, they look up again. Afar, they can see more activity where there are smaller box-shaped containers holding all sorts of food, and the people over there seem to be taking some.
Slowly, and carefully enough to not be caught again, they go to a busier stall, opting to steal some of its fruit when the keeper was distracted.
They try to walk away casually, a few fruits hidden behind their cloak, but their anxiety betrayed it all in their posture and expression. Luckily for them, nobody saw.
"-------!!"
Totally unrelated to the yelling from behind, they ran into the woods again, finding cover in a small dirt cliff.
They sigh, finding their many little friends starting to appear again in the sky. The fruit was sweet, its polished surface reflecting the stars above.
As they look back towards the town, it looks beautiful. Somehow, the darkless flowers littering the town stayed bright, their little lights can be seen from where they sat.
They approach the scenery. It was breathtaking, but gives them a strange burning ache in their chest. They look towards the horizon, where the ocean lay; rising and falling slowly as if the earth itself were taking breaths.
In this beautifully gardened town, the child lies, taking in the view of their company above and the ones who've come to join them below. Unfortunately, they cannot stay here. Their journey to find a home willing for them must continue.
The universe leads, and we have no choice but to follow.