Category : Stories

Sub Category : Fantasy

Blair could smell the sea on him. His father's hand was warm and rough, gripping his shoulder and shaking him awake from where he had fallen into an unconscious state under his tree. He groaned, sitting up.
"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The sun shone bright in his face, and he couldn't help but smile. It wasn't often that he got to spend his days outdoors at the cottage they shared, away from the prying gaze of everyone in town and out in nature itself. And, most importantly, away from the gossip. If this hadn't been one of those rare times, he probably wouldn't have even bothered waking up; it was only a minor headache that had kept him from sleeping through his chores last night, rather than the alcohol from earlier in the week that he usually indulged in when the mood struck.
His father smiled back, the expression soft. "It's almost noon," he said, gesturing towards the window. A few clouds still floated lazily across the sky, but it looked like the morning would clear up just fine. "We should go down and see what your mother wants for lunch."
Blair nodded his head. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he did so. His father walked with him down to the dock, where a small skiff tied up to it waited. They climbed aboard, setting off towards the house without waiting to hear the order for who would drive their boat this day. Once inside the cabin of the boat, Blair pulled a blanket out from behind a pillow on his bed, and wrapped himself up tight, snuggling against his father as they made their way to wherever Mrs. Evans was planning to take them today.
The boat was small, barely enough room for two people to sit, yet they managed to squeeze themselves in together nonetheless. His mother sat at the helm, her hair neatly braided and fastened at the base of her neck with a blue ribbon while she read a book resting in her lap, occasionally humming along to whatever tune she was listening to quietly. His father sat beside her, watching the waves as they raced by, occasionally glancing down into a bowl filled with something he assumed might be seaweed. It wasn't until they reached the end of the island that Mr. Evans spoke, and both Blair and his father leaned forward in their seats to hear better.
"Did we find her? Or shall we make our own meal instead?" Mr. Evans asked.
Mrs. Evans shook her head. "No, you'll find her soon enough. We've arrived at the perfect place for finding someone."
She reached behind her and lifted out another book. "There are stories written about this island that can help us find my daughter," she explained, flipping the book open to reveal a sketch of the island's interior. "But first, I think it'd be best to tell a story. Would you like that?"
Her husband glanced around. "What kind of story?"
"A true tale, I suppose. There isn't any particular story we need to tell, but there's a story about this island that I hope my children will understand." She turned her attention to Blair and his father, beckoning them closer. "I remember telling you all that I was once lost and alone. That was years ago now, but the feeling of loneliness hasn' been completely faded."
Mr. Evans nodded his head in understanding. "So you want us to read a story, like that?"
"Exactly like that." She smiled. "This island has a name. It's called The Island of Lost Souls, and it is known for its solitude. It's home to more ghosts than anyone knows about. But even more than that, it also hosts some truly unusual creatures. People who are not born in this world."
Blair felt his heart jump. So far, they were talking about ghosts! He wanted to ask if they were real ghosts, but knew asking that would just draw even more questions.