"As God said, it was indeed an arduous trek,"
the Prophet murmured in his heart, silently praying that the wooden boat might encounter a sign of life.
He prayed for God, in the oblivion, to assign a father and son an island where berries were as plentiful as gravel and fertile mud through which springs flowed.
Just as...
That time, he and God had agreed upon in the shadows.
The night slowly fell.
Al and Yarlessto, exhausted, closed their eyes; the father and son slept soundly on the wooden boat.
The starry sky reflected on the water's surface while waves gently rolled, pushing the wooden boat at an unhurried pace, as if afraid to disturb the father and son's slumber.
There was a breeze over the sea, so mild, as if obeying someone's command, with the wooden boat positioned in the direction of the tailwind.
