The boy had been having that dream for years now, an enormous tower made entirely of pure white Ivory. Your tip was pointed enough to ravage the sky above it, and at the same time, the Tower's walls seemed to mirror the ray of light that the sun always sent to earth.
All of that made the sensation of looking at that tower, as if you were looking directly at something built by the fingers of God itself. Yet that dream never remained just in a single time; the boy always saw everything about that tower, from its beginning to its end.
But that Tower end was not the work of someone, or something, but of time itself. In a dream, the boy could see the course of its life, her slowly tilting to the sides, cities and people living by its side, and then nothing.
And even seeing decades of that tower's life span, its end was always a mystery to the boy. Something that even your mind could not get a hold of, something so strange that was probably the reason why the boy kept reliving that dream day after day, every time he slept.
Not this time, there was no way that someone could reach some type of conclusion while their lungs were overcome by salt water. As a sack of potatoes, the boy's body was thrown from one side to another by the ocean's waves, a not-so-delightful feeling. And the fact that his back hurt like hell made everything way worse.
Instinctively, he tried to maintain his head over the water for most of the time he could make, maybe if he could keep air in his lungs for enough time, he could find somewhere to save himself, and land. He knew he couldn't die that easily; he wouldn't let that happen. Not now, not never.
Sincerely? He WANTED to lose hope a long time ago, but something held his mind together, maybe it was his will to live life as he wanted to, stopping to live by the chains of his own mother. But that was a mistake, that little change of thoughts broke his concentration, making him drown again, drowning in despair when he felt the air getting stormed by water again.
Like a puppy, he tried to swing his arms to escape the grasp of the ocean, but the more he tried to strive for air, the more he sank to the bottom of the ocean. The worst of all was that he had seen a little wooden dock closer by; he was so close, but there was nothing to do, and the boy just accepted his defeat with an angry expression.
A miracle was the only thing that could save him, maybe by sheer luck, a coincidence, or in a propositional way, that happened. In that dock, a man saw the boys struggle and fight, with blonde short hair, a full beard, beautiful blue eyes, and wearing a simple white suit. Holding a simple bottle of water in his hands, the man let the contents of it flow into the ocean. When the bottle was empty, he threw it into the trash bin closer by.
A few seconds passed by, and the man smiled. The high tide that was pushing the boy away from the land slowly changed its course. Not only did the tide change, but that part of the ocean itself, too; the boy rose from the depths, as if the water itself held him up.
It was a strange phenomenon, a bizarre vision for anyone who could see it. It seemed as if the ocean had created a mind, or someone was the mind behind it. Eventually, the waves let the boy at the same dock he was trying to get to, and that same blonde man walked towards him.
Looking at the younger boy, the man snapped his fingers. After a few seconds, the boy's body started to convulse, to move. Strangely, there was no such thing as pain in those movements, but some kind of relief, relief when a lot of salt water left his body by both his nose and mouth.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, his first vision being the sky. If it weren't for the fact of near-death experience, the boy would say that the day was beautiful — and indeed it was, the clouds were apparent — but considering his situation, he decided to stay quiet. And even if he tried to talk, not a single drop of strength remained for him to walk; who says to talk?
He hadn't noticed the man wearing the white suit, not until he talked.
"Hey, rough swim, huh? What's your name, boy? Oh, you're too wea…" the boy cut his phrase in the middle, finding strength where he couldn't get
"N-N-Naevius" Coughing a bit, trying to get water out of his lungs, but strangely, it was already out. The boy didn't know when that happened, but he was indeed happy. "Y-Yours?"
"Interesting name… but respectfully, who gave it to ya definitely didn't like your ass." Naevius heard that, and in a way, the man wasn't wrong. But he decided to just ignore that commentary for now. "Well, I'm Aldric. Sorry for not saying my name first, it was unpleasant of me."
Both stayed in silence for a while, an uncomfortable but nice silence both times. Naevius was the first to break that ice, giving the man a weak but nice laugh.
"Huh? You're laughing?"
"You're the one wh-who saved me, right?" The man nodded with his head. "Thank you."
Aldric shook his head to the sides, as it was nothing. Not for him, of course, but for the boy, that was the start of his new life. A free life. "If you want to repay me, I do have something in mind for you… But let's not talk here."
As Aldric helped Naevius stand up, both of them walked towards a small village near the docks. Simple wooden houses, not a single one with more than one floor. Eventually, they got into a simple bar by the little beach that the village had.
"Are you over eighteen?" Naevius nodded, "Let me buy you a treat."
As the boy sat down to enjoy the view of the ocean — the same place where he almost died — Aldric walked inside the store, looking to buy the damn beer. When he came back, he reached out to the boy.
He approached the cup near his lips, and the moment a little of the beer got inside his mouth, he spat everything out. "DAMN, it tastes like SHIT."
"First time, huh?" Aldric drank everything in just one sip, making Naevius wonder how the fuck. "The thing I have in mind for you is simple. There's a school, college, whatever you like to think, I want you to get in. "
"Aren't those things pricey as fuck?"
"Yep," His response made the boy's brain stop.