(In narrator's point of view) Steve awoke on the small, makeshift raft that he'd pulled together, exactly one week and four days ago, giving him painful memories.

 It's all your fault.

 His brother's words echoed in his head. But Steve knew, deep down in his small, rectangular body, that he'd prove his brother wrong. Rubbing his fist against his chin, Steve squinted into the distance and saw a small spot ahead. His doubt instantly flushed away, as he adjusted the sails to catch more wind. But little did Steve know, that he had visitors.


(Steve's point of view) Being caught hostage on a large ship isn't as fun as you might think. Being tied to a post, just like the movies and cartoons. So what, there may be pirates, but that won't stop them from killing or torturing you. And possibly stealing all of your valuables.
I struggled against the tight rope pressing me against the main mast of the pirate ship.
"Hnnng…" I wheezed, exhausted.

 "Can't get out, eh?" A scraggly pirate swooped down from the crow's nest. He had a navy blue cloak on, with ripped patches that had been sewn back together. His over-grown black hair rustled in the wind, and I grimaced, seeing all of the disgusting who-knows-what in it. "Seems like you've got a jungle up there." I flicked my head towards his, and he scowled. "I'm goin' ter assume that there was sarcasm." The pirate flashed a rancid grin at me, making me grimace at the yellow stubs that reminded me of a lemon.
"Yer better not be talkin' to the cap'n like that!" Yellow Tooth cackled and swung back to the crow's nest like a monkey. Groaning, I put my head back and just… continued to groan. Dramatically. What do you expect? Some ninja moves? A diamond sword behind my back? Dueling on the plank? Nope, I'm not that heroic. I just mess up things, just like I did with my father. I closed my eyes and it all came back to me. The flashback of when we recieved news of my father's death engulfed me before I could reopen my eyes.



(In narrator's point of view) "Steven, darling, time for dinner!" Steve trudged out of his room. He'd been testing banner designs all day, and he'd limited himself to little to no food to avoid stains. Now his stomach grumbled at the thought of steaming stew, herbs fresh from their garden.

 As Steve set the table, his older brother, Matthew, and younger sister, Alex, sat down. Alex had been playing with her dolls all day (like always), and Matthew had been practicing his combat skills. Their dog, Bella, sat at the side of Alex's chair, hoping that she would drop a piece of rabbit or two.

"Where's father?" Matthew grunted. Steve wondered the same thing. Their father had been going away for long absences of time, rarely coming home for dinner. His mother would always say the same thing when he asked where his father was: "Out and about."

 "Matty," Matthew cringed at the nickname. He hated it. "He's out and about. Looking for good places to sell our goods. The carrots won't sell themselves, you know." Their mother plopped down at the table, the head open in case their father ever came home for dinner.

 Which, he wouldn't.

"Mrs. Blockick! Mrs. Blockick! We've found no evidence of your husba-" A middle-aged man ran up to the house, then cut himself off at the sight of Alex. Alex peered from behind her mother, confused. "Mama, what does he mean?" Marian Blockick looked down at her youngest child, her mouth curved into a smile, but her eyes crinkled with worry. "Nothing to worry about, dear."
"But… where's Papa?" She questioned.
"Out and about," Her mother responded.
Turning to the man, she said, "Come bother me later." And with that said, she turned around and went back to washing dishes. WIth Alex's small mind unable to keep the conversation memorized, little Alexandrea Blockick might have been the first to know about Jason Blockick's murder.



The next morning, while Mrs. Blockick was weeding the garden, the same man as the day before jogged up to her. At the same moment, Steve had crept out into the garden and hidden behind a thick rosebush, finding a small gap to peek through.

 "He hasn't been seen in 2 weeks, Marian, and you still have hope? Did he ever say where he was going?" The man said.

"I'm sure he's oka-" Marian was cut off by a sudden rush of two twins appearing before her. "He's gone. We found item drops. Carrots, potatoes, and a rabbit's foot," They said in unison. Marian was startled by the harshness of their voice. She calmly stood up, as if only a minor thing had just happened, not just the death of her husband. "Very well." She tried to choke back a sob. Steve slowly rose and crept back into the house. Their father? Dead? No way. Probably pranksters of some sort. Cruel. Steve headed to Matthew's room anyway, to tell him what he'd heard.

"So they said he's… dead?" Matthew asked, to confirm once again. "Yes. I've said that about five times already."

 "Dead."

"Yeah."

Matthew slowly stood, finally accepting the news in an unexpected way.

"It's all your fault." He said, his face slowly contorting into an angry expression.

 "Pardon me?"

 "It's all your fault. If you hadn't filled father's mind with stuff about going to ancient lands and stupid ideas like traveling, he wouldn't be DEAD!" Matthew stomped his foot, and clenched his dagger hilt so tight his knuckles turned white. "Get out of my room! Out! Stupid, murder, killed--father--" Steve ran out of the room as Matthew started stabbing everything in sight, going to his room. "Gotta get out of here…" Steve shoved everything he needed in a backpack, and wrote a note as he prepared to leave. It read:




Dear mother,
 I've left to go fulfill the dreams I put into father, which led him to death. I'm not sure if I'll ever be back, but if I do, please tell Matthew not to stab me.

~Steve



Satisfied with the note, he set it on his desk and jumped out of his open window. He ran until he found the dock of the village, and now look where he is, stuck hostage on a pirate ship. Yippee.


(In Steve's point of view) What happened on the pirate ship is still hazy. But what I do remember, I guess I'll tell you.

 I was refilled with a dangerous determination, to find that new land. Whether I had my valuables I did not care; as long as there was iron, I was okay.

 I started chewing on the ropes vigorously, hoping to cut through them with my teeth. At last, I loosened my bindings and slipped out. I crept behind barrels of rotten fish, keeping clear of pirates. I gazed down at my small raft, wondering if the jump would break my legs. Probably, but the water might cushion my fall. Hmm… I jumped for it, grabbing a semi-decent fish from a barrel as I went down. I rolled onto the platform, then quickly untied the knot keeping me restrained to the pirate ship. Hoisting the sails, I caught the wind and cut through the ocean waves. An arrow plopped in the water behind me, followed by angry calls, but I didn't care. I was free, able to find a new land.


I rubbed my chin, feeling the stubble starting to grow. I felt like a real man, and I was about to prove it. In only three hours, the island was looking a lot closer. Squinting, I think I noticed a volcano. I sat down, watching the sail ripple in the wind. I hummed all sorts of tunes. I fixed the sail occasionally, growing bored. How long will this take? Three days or thirty minutes? I thought uneasily.



Three Hours Later...



My raft boat washed upon the red sand shores of the island. I stared at its large mountains, fertile fields, and beautiful sakura trees. It looked untouched, claimed by nature. I laughed aloud, beyond happy that I'd found unclaimed land. This was the chance to prove to his brother that I could do something other than ruin! Finding the materials to make a banner, I quickly crafted a claiming flag to set atop a hill. I hiked onto a large hill, all the way to the peak, until I found a lone sakura tree.

 "Here," I murmured to it. "This is your new friend. His name is Billy." I felt kind of silly talked to a tree and naming a piece of fabric, but I was too happy to care. I planted the banner next to the tree. Then I rolled down the hill like a child. I'd bring all of the village here, to a better place, a happier place, one where they can forget the death of their father. I stood up at the foot of the hill and grinned. Yelling to the largest mountain, I boasted, "How do you like me now?! Hmm?!" And with that, I flopped on the ground and began planning out the beginning of a new civilization. One that would change the world. And I would call it… Mancola. Yes. That's good. Nice ring to it, don't you think? As the sky started to darken, I found a nice place to rest in the branch of a tree. 



Tomorrow would be the start of a greater place, greater people, and a greater Steve.