A BOY STORY
A boy by the name of Kian used to reside in a little seaside community tucked away between the forest and the ocean. Because the hamlet was full with larger voices, bigger goals, and stronger hands, he was frequently ignored despite being the youngest of five brothers. This was not because he was nasty. Kian was unique. Kian would sit by the seashore and draw the waves, the clouds, and the distant horizon in a battered leather-bound diary his grandfather had given him before he died, while the other kids spent their days learning to climb trees or using spears to chase fish. "What makes you draw all the time?" Theo, his brother, would inquire. "Pictures cannot be eaten."
Kian, however, would merely smile. He was unsure of how to describe the sensation, such as how the pencil in his fingers made the wind seem like a whisper on paper or how drawing the ocean made its voice more distinct. Kian saw an odd figure standing on the rocks just past the reef one day as the town got ready for the yearly Tide Festival, which honors the generosity of the sea. Although it was too far away to view well, there was something off about the person. Not quite risky. Simply put, distinctive. His parents were busy helping to set up festival tents when he rushed back to tell them. His siblings were playing and laughing with their pals. Kian then took his usual action. He sketched.In the distance, he drew a person with long limbs, a shrouded body, and a shimmer surrounding it that resembled fire rising from sand. The fish was vanished by the following morning. Even the crates buried deep under the ocean were empty, as were every net and trap. The villagers became agitated. Their lifeblood had always been fish. There wouldn't be a festival, food, or trade without them. Kian gripped his diary and watched the adults quarrel. No one would listen, but he knew the figure had something to do with it. And so he decided. Kian sneaked out of his house that night and followed the shore to the reef, which was illuminated by a waning moon. He traversed slippery stones barefoot,heart thumping like a warning drum inside his chest. Once more, the figure appeared. Closer this time. When he got close, it turned, and Kian let out a gasp. At least in part, the figure wasn't human. Its eyes flashed a faint blue, and its face was as smooth and pale as a fish's belly. When it talked, the sound of its voice resembled the sound of a stream rubbing across stones. It said, "You are not like the others." "You see." Unable to speak, Kian nodded. The creature uttered the simple words, "I took the fish." "To check for your kind's attention." if they would give a damn.
"We saw," Kian muttered. "They're simply afraid." The head of the figure cocked. "Are you afraid of the sea they drink every day?" "No," Kian answered, gathering his courage. "Afraid of things they don't comprehend." For a long period, the figure remained silent. At last, it reached out and flipped through the drawings in Kian's journal, touching the edge. "You depict reality. That is not common. "Are you going to return the fish?" Kian inquired. The water was visible to the figure. "The sea is a blessing that should not be taken for granted. It's living. It pays attention. Kian's thoughts were racing. "What if we express our gratitude to you? What if we make a change? "You're just a boy." "Then I'll begin with myself."
The unfathomable eyes of the figure scrutinized him. Then it grinned, or at least it seemed to. "For the time being, I'll return the fish. The sea, however, will keep listening. It will become quiet once more if it merely hears hunger. The person disappeared into the waters. The nets were filled the following morning. It was hailed as a miracle by the villagers. Brighter than before, the Tide Festival continued. Kian remained silent about the beast. However, he started drawing people instead of just the sea. He was able to depict their dread, hope, greed, and delight. He showed the images to everyone who would look, reminding people that the ocean was a companion, a spirit, and a tale in addition to being a resource.
Others eventually started to pay attention. On the shore, the people erected a tiny shrine as a gesture of gratitude rather than worship. They taught the kids that the sea should be revered rather than conquered, cut back on their fishing, and discovered innovative ways to preserve the reef. Years went by. Kian got taller, wiser, and mature. Even though he never saw the sea creature again, he would occasionally draw the rocks under the moonlight, imagining that he could still see its silhouette standing there, watching.
He developed into a storyteller who told tales based on wonder and reality. Kids crowded around him to hear about the ocean spirit and how a village was saved because to one boy's pictures. Even if many of them lost track of the details, they never forgot the lesson: listening is important. that powerful waves can be created by even the quietest voice.
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