A Treasure Found: A Storiiverse Flash Fiction Story by Ondrea Keigh

AI generated image of Ed walking toward the healer's hut.

A Treasure Found

A Storiiverse flash that takes place one year before The Mission

The smell of fish wafts through the air as I trek through the port toward the dock. I check my list. The healer on the shore is particular about her fish. And Mrs. Alves won’t stand for me returning without the medicinal herbs. The Village is growing, and though I wonder if it is safe to let it do so, I smile at the thought of the faces I will see upon returning.

“Ah, Ed!” says Bard, the burly man in the market wearing a fish-stained apron. “It’s been a while. You after those herbs again?”

I chuckle at Bard’s long memory, “It’s been on five years since I’ve been back. How did you remember?”

“The healer loves her fresh Makr.” Bard leans in close, “She’s quite taken with you, too, I might add.”

“It’s probably only because I bring her favorite fish each time,” I explain with a laugh. “It ensures I get the newer supplies.”

“I’m sure it does, lad, sure it does. And you’re in luck today! Me maty just brought some in from the sea this morn.” He gathered a large fish and showed it off to me.

“That’ll do nicely, Bard.” He wraps the large fish and hands it over for a few coins.

With fish in hand, I head to the shore. The shack I seek lists awkwardly to one side, defying the laws that govern most houses. Seafoam rushes up the shore as I descend the stairs to the beach, careful to avoid the ice-cold waters of the Eastern Sea.

“Achoo!”

I stop and spin around, searching for the source of the sound. The bank is empty, but I quickly spot a small form under the dock. A small girl with black hair hanging to her waist, no older than four years old. Drenched in the cold water, she struggles to sit up. I rush to her side.

“Hold on, little one,” I say, wrapping my arms around her.

She struggles for only a moment, but upon feeling the warmth of my body, she settles. I scoop her up, holding her tight. “What’s your name, little one?” I ask as I search the port for any sign of her kin.

She coughs and sniffles, her shaky hands gripping my shirt as she whispers, “Yuuki.”