However, Antonio's heart wanted to stay. He still needed to fulfill his heartfelt dream: to fly like a bird.

    "I understand." said Herbert. As a farewell gift, the mentor gave his pupil a shiny, new, hand-crafted guitar made by the woodpeckers of the river.

    At night, Antonio played the songs he learned during his travels, always remembering his great friend Herbert.

    "Incredibly closed, full of mysteries, secrets and rites they dare not discuss with outsiders." wrote Antonio in his journal, describing people of the Xiú river. "Strangely enough, all of them have a passion, almost an obsession, in common: music."

    And it was true: in every village, in every camp, in every tribe, the musicians seemed to be the most respected members, and most of the time, the leaders. 

    There is something almost mystical about music in the Xiú river. "Mushiku sheposhi", once said Herbert, referring to an ancient saying in a dead language, that translated to "Music is power".

    One night, Antonio took part in a music wheel set in the forest, below the constellations. The festival was organized by local villagers, but Antonio wasn't the only outsider there.

    A quiet fox, with bright pink colored fur, was hiding in the shadows away from the fun, the music and the dancing. He was tuning his guitar, with a seemingly calm smile on his face, covered by his white hat.

    After a few minutes, the fox came to the middle of the wheel, and began plucking his guitar. The fox kept playing even when all the village folk were too busy with their plays and dances.

    Antonio watched him at a distance, and as impulse grabbed him to walk closer to this strange fellow, the sheep felt an oddly familiar sensation. He didn’t know why his legs were trembling... 

    He then realized the fox was playing the same song Nana played for him so many years ago. 

    The pink fox, with a subtle smile, began singing the lyrics of the song, of which Antonio had never heard.

    Where birds first took their wings

    And flew, flew, flew above the streams

    Above the waters of skies

    Listening to the song

    Of the island of Paz

    Where learning the art

    The music of flight

    Of peace… 

    The joy of music

    And its power

    On shiny eyes

    The angels preen 

    The wings they found

    On the beach of Paz

    The mirage

    Of skies

    Of suns

    Of stars

    Of stream…

    A few feet away from him, Antonio couldn't move, and stared baffled at that hatted musician.

    As soon as he finished his song, the fox got up to leave, satisfied with his little tune.

    - Hey wait! - shouted Antonio before the fox left - Where did you learn this song?

    The fox peacefully looked back at him.

    - I'm from the eastern margin - he responded - It's an old song, about Paz island.

    - Can you take me there?

    - Take you? - The fox raised an eyebrow

    - To this island. - Antonio said, following silence - You said that's where the birds got their wings.

    The fox stopped for a moment and giggled a bit.

    - That song really got inside your head, huh? - said the fox - I can only say this: the people of the eastern margin are very fond of Paz island. You might want to ask them. That way. - said the fox while pointing to a path in the forest, before disappearing into the shadows.   

    From that moment, Antonio set for the eastern margin. There, he spoke to as many elders, musicians and leaders as he could. They all believe Paz island to be twenty miles downstream, from the Century beach of the eastern margin of the Xiu river.

    And here he was. On a small boat by moonlight, twenty miles downstream from the beach. But there was no island.

    Antonio stared for minutes into the horizon, hoping to find any shadow, any trace at all of the place. Soon, he sat down, alone with his thoughts.

    "What am I even doing here?"...

    "Did they lie? Am I such a fool to fall for cheap tricks?"...

    "Why did Mr. Scott leave?"...

    "I don't think he believed in any of this…"

    "Maybe I should've gone back with him… I made a mistake…"

    "Mr. Scott was smarter, I don't think he believed in me…"

    There was a flutter in his stomach. A sudden urge to cry… 

    He grabbed his guitar, and under the light of the stars, a few beautiful chords eased his pain. But the tears kept flowing down his face.

    "Mushiku sheposhi"...

    "The joy of music and its power"...

    The power of music…

    In the mirage...

    On instinct, Antonio began playing through the sweet peaceful rhythm of "River of Peace" on his guitar.

    Memories of Nana… Memories of Herbert… Memories of his dreamy nights…

    A beautiful siren's voice echoed through the misty river's margin. It sang along to Antonio's chords. Curious, Antonio played them louder.

    The voice went on. It was beautiful, and it was getting closer.

    Antonio closed his eyes as he began to concentrate solely on his rhythmic tune. 

    The wind shifted. Soon, a gust of wind blew his fleece away in a blink of an eye. Antonio squinted his eyes.

    "What is going on?"

    The siren kept singing, and despite the wind, Antonio dared not ruin her beautiful moment. He kept playing the chords, but the wind was louder. So, Antonio plucked the strings even stronger.

    The strings snapped.

    At last, he opened his eyes and saw the mist fading away.

    The water around him was covered in delicate white and pink petals, floating peacefully. 

    The outline of a mountain at the horizon caught Antonio's attention.

    Millions of colors shone through Antonio's sight as the first hues of dawn sparked on the flowery hills of a distant place…

    An island…

    In that dreamy state, Antonio couldn't even think before heading for that mysterious venture. In his heart, both fear and enthusiasm were beating.

    In the distance, a dolphin squealed loudly.