Aldric and the Oasis That Wasn't There

Aldric had a small house by a dry road. He was old, and he was retired, and every night he fell asleep listening to a little shell he kept by his pillow. The shell made a soft, whispering sound. Like waves. Like home.

But tonight, something pulled him outside.

The moon was big and round and very white. And there, past the pale rocks and the dusty sand — water. Silvery water. Green reeds. The smell of something cool and wet.

Aldric stopped. He had heard of this oasis. He had always been a little afraid of it. Too strange. Too quiet. Too far.

He stood very still.

Then he saw Fen.

Fen was sitting at the edge of the water, his silver fur shining in the moonlight, his dark eyes wide and happy. He patted the damp ground with one small flipper. Pat, pat, pat.

"You came," said Fen.

Aldric walked closer. The sand was soft under his boots. The reeds rustled — shhhh. The water made a small, lapping sound.

Lap. Lap. Lap.

Aldric sat down beside Fen. He listened.

Lap. Lap. Lap.

It was not the sea. It was not a lighthouse. But it was water, and it was night, and it was quiet, and it was here.

Fen leaned his damp nose against Aldric's arm.

They sat like that for a long time.

The moon moved slowly across the sky. The reeds whispered. The water lapped.

Aldric did not feel afraid.

He reached into his pocket. He left his little shell there. He did not need it tonight.