It had now been seven days since their departure from the Island of Gynē, and the crew knew it was time to anchor their ship at a nearby island to replenish their supplies.
The people were growing restless, and even Loki, a calm bird by nature, was starting to show signs of anxiety.
Ceremus took note of their unease, sensing that Hael, too, was worried for his friend. He instructed the crew to stop at an island to rest and breathe in some fresh air. Fortunately, they were approaching a small island in the distance.
Upon disembarking, they took in the beautiful sights before them. Despite its small size, the island had a charming beach stretching across the land. This time, the crew decided to gather the necessary supplies first, leaving exploration and relaxation for later. Hael, Ceremus, and Loki remained behind, their eyes wandering over the isle.
The white-haired giant inhaled the salty ocean air, the wind tousling his silvery locks as he sighed in quiet relief. The king observed him from afar, a light smile tugging at his lips. Yet, as he gazed at the water, an uncanny feeling crept over him—it looked strangely familiar. A shiver ran down his spine as he watched the waves crash into the sand.
A sudden urge struck him—he needed to leave the beach.
"Hael," he called, his voice tinged with urgency. The young man turned to face the king. "Let's go already," was all he said before striding toward a path leading into the woodlands.
Hael and Loki exchanged glances before casting one last look at the ocean and following suit.
As they ventured into the dense woods, Loki's keen eyes immediately spotted a little hut nestled inconspicuously at the forest's edge, partially concealed by a towering tree.
The hut looked worn and dilapidated from the outside, yet it did not seem abandoned. It was clear that someone still lived there. The two men exchanged looks, but before they could decide how to proceed, the door creaked open, revealing a frail old man with translucent skin and pale eyes.
His body was thin—skin and bones, yet despite his fragile frame, he carried a large sack of firewood on his back. He limped out of the hut, his breath labored with exhaustion and strain.
Without hesitation, Hael ran to the man, lifting the heavy sack onto his own shoulders.
The old man raised his head, startled by the presence of another person. His eyes widened in surprise, but unlike most, he did not appear afraid of Hael. The giant's towering presence often intimidated others, yet the old man's reaction was different. Instead, he offered Hael a kind smile.
"Thank you, young man," the old man said, his voice cracked and bridled with age.
"It's no problem, sir. You shouldn't go around carrying such heavy things at your age," Hael replied, purposefully omitting the man's frail appearance as a reason as well.
The old man let out a huffy laugh. "Unfortunately, young man, I live in this hut alone, so there's no one else around to help me."
Hael flashed the man a look of concern. It was clear he was in no shape to be doing heavy labor. He looked frail and emaciated, as if he hadn't had a proper meal in years.
Ceremus and Loki watched as Hael carried the pieces of wood inside the shed, then stacked a few next to the hut for future use.
"Is he always like this?" the king wondered.
"Unfortunately, he is," Loki replied.
Ceremus glanced at the bird questioningly.
"He's always been a kindhearted person, always looking out for others without expecting anything in return. It's one of the reasons why the animals in the forest came to accept him so quickly. Yes, he was strong and displayed his dominance through strength, but what made us respect him was ultimately his benevolent nature. It truly is inspiring," he explained.
Ceremus could tell as much just by looking at him. In fact, his entire time at the palace had shown Ceremus how selfless and generous Hael could be. If he had to associate an image with those words, Hael would fit the bill perfectly. There wasn't a single selfish bone in his body, and Ceremus couldn't help but ponder how someone this warm and kind could ever belong to him. They were complete opposites in every sense of the word, and yet, Ceremus knew there was no one else out there for him—no one else who could elicit such voracious feelings within him.
Once Hael was done helping the man with his tasks, the old man thanked him and showed his gratitude by inviting them inside his home.
"Please come in, you and the others with you," he said.
Loki and Ceremus exchanged glances before looking at the hut. They both shared the same thought: I don't want to go in there. But Hael already had one foot in the door, and they couldn't let him venture into a stranger's home alone.
The inside of the house was surprisingly well-kept compared to its exterior. It looked homey and well-lived-in, but it also lacked depth and personality.
A small table greeted them, laden with bread, oils, and butter, along with fresh fruit and leafy greens that made even Ceremus' stomach grumble.
"Please, sit, sit," the old man insisted.
Now that he was closer to the man, Ceremus noticed something strange about him, particularly his eyes. They were pale, almost colorless, and shifted rather oddly. It appeared as if the man could see them, yet not see them at the same time, confusing the king.
The four sat at the table, ready to dig into the food. The old man felt around the table until he got a hold of the serving utensil and served Hael and Ceremus their food. He even brought out a tiny plate to accommodate Loki, which the bird graciously accepted.
The entire time he did this, Ceremus kept a close eye on the man, and his suspicions were confirmed. The old man was, in fact, blind.
As if sensing his gaze, the old man looked up with a small smile on his face. "Goodness, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself," he began. "My name is Phetus, and I am the owner of this island."
The three looked at him in surprise, causing Phetus to let out a breathy laugh. "I know my humble abode doesn't provide much to back up my words, but it's the truth. I simply chose not to live a life of abundance," he said calmly.
The others could only nod their heads. Had it been the old Ceremus, he likely would have scoffed at his words, but this time, he chose to remain silent.
"Please, enjoy the food this old man took the time to make," Phetus said. The group didn't waste any time as they took a bite of the meal.
A gasp almost escaped the king's lips as he tasted the food. It was unlike anything he'd ever had, rivaling even the meals prepared by the royal chef back home. It was delicious and left Ceremus wanting more.
Hael and Loki shared the same sentiments. They couldn't stop eating because of how good it tasted. As they focused on their meal, Phetus looked down at his plate, his hand hovering over his spoon. He had a strained, almost pained expression on his face, and even after a few minutes had passed, he still hadn't taken a bite of his food.
Leaving the group puzzled.