Dashyl's Quest

Dashyl was stunned. What should he do? Follow this person, who could be crazy, away from the people who nurtured him back to health and have taken care of him, or stay.

“Fretly, you’re my friend, but you’re believing in a dream. The curics, they care for us, that is real,” Dashyl urged.

“No, these are not dreams, these are memories. I know, Dashyl. I am leaving, I am going to gather what I can and leave now. Come with me, we can survive better out there together. Come with me, I know where we can go, it’s safe and I have many, many friends there.”

“I don’t know,” Dashyl hesitated.

“Come on!” Fretly whirled around and gathered his things into a pile on his bed. He walked to the door and turned to Dashyl. “Get ready, I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared out the door.

Dashyl sighed heavily. He held his father’s journal in his hands. It did seem odd how the curics were pumping him for information. And why had they not given him his father’s journal back? The answers to many of their questions are probably in the book, what did they need to know from him?

“What would you do, dad,” Dashyl whispered as he lightly thumped the book on his forehead a few times. “Yes, that’s it. You would recommend the road. That’s where you were happiest, out in the world, exploring, having adventures. That’s my choice, too.”

Fretly trotted back into the room holding two backpacks. “I found where they keep these,” he said, handing one to him. “Put your stuff in it if you want to go with me.”

“Hey, this is my backpack!” Dashyl exclaimed as he took one of the bags from his friend. “My knife is in here, along with some other stuff. They never told me they had this.”

Dashyl scrunched up his face and looked at Fretly. “Yeah, there’s something a little creepy about all this. Let’s go.”