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There was one sight he mulled over and over. Fire. Why? He couldn't quite remember. It was definitely the last thing he saw before he ended up here. The aged man swung his head, left and right. He looked up and down the tranquil beach he sat. Iridescent sands, accompanied by the choir of ethereal waves. The sight made him happy. It made him feel accomplished, a perpetual sense of contentment pumped through his veins, yet, he felt like something was missing. Something he could not quite push a finger onto. Time forever flowed here, like the shimmering tides which he watched. Vague memories, vague figures darting at the corners of his vision, seemingly disappearing just before he could recognise them from his past. The sun always bore itself to the beach, lulling the landscape alongside it. The distant mountains and fields felt ever so far away for the man. It occasionally caught his eyes, blinding him for a swift second. This time, however, caused a change in the scene. When his vision returned to him, he noticed something. A shape. It was a ship. His ship from his youth, on the horizon! What little strength he had thrusted himself up, as he frantically began to wave his arms to signal the ship. Dozens of minutes passed, and the ship did not change it's course. Disappointment rushed his brow-line. It continued, passing the beach upon which the man sat. He watched it sail for what felt like hours. Perhaps it was simply a new addition to his immortal painting, created by whatever higher power had placed him there. Another glint, and his vision lost. The tapestry had changed. Fire. The wicked smell of burnt timber filled the air quickly, and the amazing sky tarnished with grey. His ship alight, the only recognisable object in his life dwindling away in front of him. He wept, cupping his features. Why didn't he understand it? It made no sense. What felt like hours passed, what brilliant torture had been inflicted upon the lone man. All he could do was stare and remain helpless, unmoving from his seating upon the sand. He didn't want to look at it anymore, and so fell to his back. Through the smoke-filled sky, he noticed something above. A new glint, not like others before. Not the sun. It pushed it's way through the crowd, and revealed itself. A circular speck of white, a dim glow surrounding it. The sky was not smoke, but the sun had fallen for the first time in eons. The only light that remained was the flickers of orange on the beach, flaming debris washing up beside the man. A revelation. He remembered something. A name. His name. Ainsley.
