I broke the water's surface with a loud gasp. Instinctively, I tried to swim for the nearby island's shore. My arm muscles seemed to be straining from my exhaustion. My lungs felt like they were on fire. Coughing and gasping, I grabbed a small rock jutting out of the water and pulled myself up onto it and- thank the gods! - dry land. After a few moments of lying on the sand retching up seawater, I turned back to the smoking shipwreck in the distance. It wouldn't be long before that ship vanished beneath the waves. I stare at that symbol on the mast. A symbol I had once looked up to… a symbol that gave me inspiration…a symbol… that I wished I had never followed…
After discarding my armor and helmet to hide my identity, I exhaustedly walked up a grassy path, searching for signs of civilization. And then I saw them. A group of huts, all on the verge of a cliffside and a (supposedly dormant) volcano. "Hello?" I called out, hoping to draw attention. No answer. Pondering back on my actions on the ship, I realized I had reached a point of no return. I had made myself an enemy to a warlord. And for that, I must. Keep. Running.
I decided to stay in the hut that I assumed was the leader's. I would sleep here for one day, and then leave. How? Well, I needed to get to that part. Maybe there was a boat I could steal. I could take it, reach a more populated island, and hide out there. But even as I settled down when the sun set, I couldn't sleep. The previous days were a nightmare to me now. In my dreams I see that village again. I hear his voice again, along with others.
"You disobeyed a direct order!"
"His crossbow must've been jammed! I saw it!"
"You know how Drago Bludvist tends to failures, child."
"Just give him one more chance! He's just an 18-year old boy!"
I wanted to wipe those memories from my mind forever. But I knew they would haunt me until the day I died. But at least I could get away from it all. But… will I ever escape?