Cobalt Isle

Cobalt Isle could have never really been considered an Isle at all. It barely functions as a harbor for passing ships to drop off tourists. 

It’s more of the symbolism of what Cobalt Isle could really be, it could be a functioning port, a functioning sleepy town where normalcy is only dictated by the way you walk and talk. 

Cobalt Isle could be a lot of things but it would never be his home. 

The only home Kip was ever interested in was the den of his ‘brothers’. They called themselves the Cobalt Bandits (over the numerous other names). 

At the top of the Isle lies a cliff over guarding the foggy sea, they decided that here was the perfect place to build their camp. They were right to have that mindset, they built it out of all things that they rummage around for. 

On the morning that they had their first meeting, disaster in the name of the great flood struck all of the islands. All of the bandits were protected but it could not be the same saying for the townsfolk below. 

Kip was the last to see the flood rise up to almost the top of their hideout and wash the town away with it. All that was left was reduced to rubble and dust, the town looked no more like the greeting cards before the disaster. 

The only thing that hasn’t floated away with the adults was the bronze statue of the Isle’s founder, Sebastian Cobalt who greedily named the town after himself. 

Some of the bandits wanted to disperse, to find their homes, to see if anyone else made it. 

The cracking of thunder heeded their cries, droplets of rain splattered on the sidewalk and into their den, falling on their heads. 

Rain trickled down the trees that had buried their roots into the island. 

Pat, Pat, Pat…. 

They huddle in the corner of the den, like little rats. “Hold your breath!” Kip says as if he can know what will happen next. The boys do as they are told, Kip is their leader and to not do as their leader says is punishable by brawling. 

The ceiling collapses, water gushed in as the level rises to the top, the den collapses and breaks as it falls from the cliff into the rising stream of the sea below. 

The town of Cobalt is no more. 

Kip awakes to the sound of screaming, his legs are shredded to bits, he can’t move. 

“Help.” He struggles to get the word out of his blistered lips, his arms clutch the wooden panel, half his body in water and the other half on the board. 

He feels a choking fear bubble up inside him. The heat of the sun above burns his back, he doesn’t know how long he has been under it, nor where the others are. He moves his head to the side, the only thing he can move, he is staring at the waist of the statue. 

The water has consumed everything else. The town, the statue, his den, his friends and family, everything. 

Over the other side of the statue once stood the home he grew up in. He tries to move his legs, to swim over to the home, it is like the cuts have reopened. He bites his lip from screaming. “KIP!” A voice from somewhere screams out his name, it feels like he is dreaming this. That his mother screamed his name. 

“Kip!” A bandit cries as he tries to run through the water towards the older boy. 

“Kip.” He cries as tears streak down his face, his glasses are missing a lens, his lip is black and blue, blistered, torn and bruised. 

He tries to pull at the older boy, prodding a bony finger in Kip’s cheek. “Quit it!” Kip grumbles, waving his hand as the other boy tries to pull him off the doorframe. He instead gives up trying to pull the older boy and drags the doorframe behind him as he sloshes back to where he came from. 

Kip feels himself being pulled along, with the tiniest strength left in his fingertips he grips the doorframe in earnest. However, it is all for naught, he can feel the darkness blink from the corner of his eyes that grow even closer as he slowly drifts in and out of consciousness. He closes his eyes and doesn’t wonder if he will ever open them up again. 

Fleeting moments pass by in seconds as the other boys wander the isle, they are lost boys, like children- are children looking for their parents, crying because of their scraped knees and broken bones. 

Only five survived out of the nine bandits. They sit around thinking of what to do next and what could happen to them out in the open, wild animals could come by and slaughter them because they are looking for what they need; food. 

So, they build a shelter. Or try to as they use sticks and furniture from the destroyed homes. They build a den just like the one that they had built before the disaster and settle themselves in for the long night. Kip lies on top of a bed in the corner, untouched by the ankle-deep water, he sleeps for days and nights, blocking out all of the clatter and ruckus of reality. 

The other boys find their next goal in the wild forests where fruit and berries grow, they eat and squalor and hope that one day their leader will wake up and guide them towards something of a future in this disastrous world. 

A year passes, the long winter sets in as the boys now huddle near a fire that they have created and pray to anything above them that they need Kip to wake up, they need his leadership and hopefulness for a brighter tomorrow. 

Then one day as if all of their prayers had been answered silently, there came this dreadful knocking at their door. Simon, the boy with the glasses, pushed his way to the door as the other boys cowered in defense. They held their sticks as weapons and waited to attack. 

But standing at the door was an old man, his wrinkly face had years of experience and knowledge, he was a wizard, one of the last heroes left in all of the isles. He had come to free them. That’s what the boys had imagined in their heads but it turned to naught. 

He pointed to Kip who was still in his sleeping trance, the boy had grown an inch or two and had nearly fallen off the bed! He was kept alive by berries crushed into a paste and fed directly into his mouth. His short chestnut hair had grown into long, frizzy locks as it lay to his waist. 

The old man entered silently as Simon drew himself back to the other boys, he puffed out his chest as if to defend himself and the others. The old man ignored the boys and went up to Kip, he placed a hand over his eyes. 

“Awaken. Hero.” 

Kip opened his eyes and greeted the new world with a smile for he had finally found his new home.