Pirates on The Ridge Line

From this forest you cannot see the ocean, but you can smell it. 

 

At night the salt plays amongst the pines and in the day you can hear her waves in the cry of the gulls that come inland looking for food. 

 

All you can see from here are the castles that ridge the highland, waiting; far enough from the coast to be protected from Pirates, close enough to deter anyone who seeks their fortune ashore. 

 

Once they were watchtowers, now they are guardians.

 

When he sees the castles he knows the ocean is near and the tiredness of the days and days of dusty travel fall away, forgotten like the villages and faces he has passed through. He even forgets the future he had once imagined.

 

This is a moment of cleansing.

 

Later he will walk barefoot through the sand and feel the embrace of the surf on his toes, but now he must climb to the first of the castles, pay tribute and ask for passage.

 

If it is not granted, he will demand it.

 

If it is refused, he will fight.

 

To turn back, no longer remains an option.