You follow the sound to the edge of a clearing. There, standing in a circle of moss-covered stones, are the island’s true inhabitants: the —palm-sized, bioluminescent creatures with delicate, humanoid shapes and wings that shimmer like oil on water. They are the island’s memory keepers.
The first sensation is salt. Then, the coarse bite of sand against your cheek. You wake to the sound of waves dragging shells across a shore, and the cry of gulls circling overhead. Your vessel—a small, ill-fated schooner—lies in splintered ruins against a spine of black rock fifty yards offshore. The horizon offers nothing but an endless, indifferent blue. journey 1 the mysterious island
Log Entry #01