Fifteen years later…

The sound of the sea and the melodious chirping of birds intertwined in a symphony that pulled Jack Paterson out of his slumber. The gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore was a reminder of the beauty of nature that surrounded him. He slowly rose from his bed and made his way to the bathroom, feeling the cool floor under his bare feet. The droplets of water that cascaded down his face as he splashed his face with cold water were a refreshing start to his morning.

Jack gazed at his reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail of his appearance. His brown eyes, reminiscent of a warm cup of cocoa, were a stark contrast to his silky black hair, which hung down his forehead like a velvety curtain. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of the sea that wafted in through the open window.

After his refreshing morning routine, Jack made his way to the kitchen, where he brewed a rich and aromatic cup of coffee that filled the air with its aroma. He savored the flavor of the creamy cheese and warm bread as he ate his breakfast, relishing in the first rays of sunshine that filtered in through the window.

Feeling content, Jack walked toward  the living room, where the painting of his late parents hung on the wall. He reached out and touched the canvas, feeling the texture of the paint beneath his fingertips. A sense of comfort washed over him as he thought of the memories that the painting evoked.

As he left his home, the refreshing scent of the sea mixed with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers tickled his senses, invigorating him for the day ahead. He walked through the Names neighborhood, the sights and sounds of the bustling market filling his senses. The briny scent of seafood and the sound of seagulls screeching overhead made him feel alive.

Finally, Jack arrived at Sancho Manson's house, where the scent of fragrant tea wafted out as he knocked on the door. Sancho opened the door, his long blond hair shining in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the trees. His sparkling green eyes shone with excitement as he greeted his friend.

"Good morning, my dear friend," Sancho said with a wide smile.

"Good morning, are you ready for a new day at the workshop?" Jack asked, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face.

"Absolutely," Sancho replied, sipping his tea.

"By the way, would you like some tea?" Sancho asked, offering his friend a cup.

"Thank you, Sancho, but I already had my breakfast and some coffee," Jack replied, feeling the caffeine in his system.

Together, they left the house, gathering their belongings as they walked toward  their woodworking workshop. The streets of Norla bustled with activity, the scent of fresh bread and pastries mingling with the sea air. As they reached their workshop, Jack felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought of the day's work ahead.

The workshop was a vast, murky space with a towering ceiling, brimming with sawdust and the aroma of newly sawed wood.

Upon entering, Jack and Sancho surveyed the stacks of timber strewn about them, cognizant of the extensive work awaiting them. They began by categorizing the various kinds of wood, sorting them into piles based on their thickness and caliber. Jack caressed a piece of oak, running his hand across its glossy surface, nodding approvingly. Sancho inhaled the sweet, fresh scent of a pine piece, relishing the fragrance.

Sancho remarked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "Seems like we have our work cut out for us today. We have loads of orders to fulfill."

Jack acknowledged, gazing at the list of orders affixed to the wall. "We have to start with the barrels. That's our biggest order."

They labored on, measuring and carving the timber, piecing them together with exactitude. As they worked, they conversed about their weekend plans and the latest developments in town. They chortled and bantered, enjoying each other's company while working.

At noon, the sun was at its peak, casting a warm glow over the surrounding fields. The sound of chirping birds and rustling leaves filled the air as Jack and Sancho sat down to take their customary break. Sancho had brought some freshly baked bread and cheese. The smell of the bread wafted through the air, and the sight of the food made Jack's stomach growl.

"Thanks, Sancho. I'll take a nap as usual. You know I need to rest for a bit during our break to regain my energy," Jack replied gratefully as he closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh country air.

Sancho nodded understandingly before heading out. He had only been gone for about thirty minutes when he returned with a cup of tea in his hand. However, he noticed that Jack was tossing and turning in his sleep and muttering incomprehensibly as if he was having a terrible nightmare.

Sancho walked up to his friend and placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him up. As he did, he noticed that Jack was sweating profusely and calling out for someone named Christina. Sancho was concerned and wondered what could be causing such distress.

"Jack, Jack, wake up," Sancho said softly, trying to comfort him.

Startled, Jack woke up and looked around before taking a deep breath. "What a nightmare," he sighed.

Sancho's hand was still on Jack's shoulder, and he could feel the dampness of Jack's sweat through his shirt. "Jack, what did you see? Was it about Christina? I heard you calling out her name."

Jack then took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead before heading out into the fresh air. The heat was now more noticeable, and he could feel the sun's rays beating down on him. "It was strange, Sancho, so dark and eerie. I can't even begin to describe it because I didn't understand what I saw. I just remember it being black and full of dread," he said, shuddering at the memory.

"Alright, let's get back to work. You'll forget it with time," Sancho reassured him as they both headed back to their tasks.

As the day wore on, Jack and Sancho diligently worked on constructing wooden barrels and windows for ships and houses. With each passing hour, the workshop became a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sound of rustling packaging and clanging metal. As the sun began its descent toward  the horizon, the duo finally completed all of their orders. They took a moment to pause and bask in the satisfaction of a job well done, gazing around at the impressive array of products that now filled the workshop.

A warm, golden light suffused the small village as the sun lowered in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets. The air was alive with the cries of seagulls wheeling overhead, and the ocean breeze carried with it the briny scent of the sea and the soft, gritty texture of sand. Jack and Sancho emerged from the workshop, their bodies weary and aching from the physical exertion of the day.

Sancho rubbed his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles, and remarked on the challenge they had faced. "We did good work today," he said, "but it was tough going at times."

Jack nodded in agreement, acknowledging the effort they had put in. "We make a great team," he said, clapping Sancho on the back. "I couldn't have done it without you."

As they made their way down the street toward  home, Jack's mind turned to his evening plans. "I'm meeting Christina at the beach," he said, a broad grin spreading across his face. "I can't wait to see her. I love her so much."

Sancho chuckled, teasing Jack about the nightmare he had confided in him earlier that day. "You should tell her about your dream," he said. "She'll be flattered that you think of her even in your sleep."

But Jack's expression darkened, and he shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I don't want to talk about it. It was too disturbing."

Sancho sensed his friend's discomfort and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Fair enough," he said. "Let's just enjoy the evening and forget about it."

Jack continued on his way to the beach to meet Christina, the daughter of Noral's mayor, Frank. Jack was raised in his house after his parents died in a ship accident fifteen years ago, when he was just five years old. Sancho's parents also died in that accident, but his grandmother raised him from the age of six until she passed away. Jack and Christina grew up together in the same house until he became a young man and returned to his parent's house. However, a love developed between them over the years, and they became lovers.

As Jack reached the beach, the sun beat down on his skin, warming him with its fiery embrace. The salty scent of the sea hung in the air, and he could hear the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. Finally, he spotted Christina in the distance, her radiant smile sending a surge of happiness through him.

But then, just as quickly, his elation was replaced with dread. The images of the nightmare he had experienced last night swirled in his mind like a tornado, causing his heart to race and his palms to sweat. He tried to push them away, but they were relentless, and soon he was reliving the nightmare all over again, feeling every detail as if it were happening in real life.

Jack's heartbeat increased as his steps quickened, causing him to sweat profusely, shiver, and feel nauseous as if he was having a panic attack. Nightmare scenes swept through his mind, making his skin crawl. In those difficult moments, Jack tried to hold himself back and hide his anxiety from Christina. He held his breath for a few seconds, relaxing his muscles, then headed toward  where Christina was sitting. 

As he approached her, he couldn't help but notice her striking features. Her red-orange hair flew in the wind, framing her pale white skin. She wore a flowing blue robe that billowed around her as she sat on the beach. Jack felt relieved as he sat down beside her, her presence calming him.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a calming background noise as they talked. Christina had brought a picnic basket filled with freshly made sandwiches, juicy fruit, and a bottle of red wine. They shared the food and sipped the wine, enjoying each other's company.

Despite the serene surroundings, Jack couldn't shake off the nightmare that had haunted him. He took a deep breath and looked away, hoping Christina wouldn't notice his unease. However, Christina noticed the change in his demeanor and asked, "Jack, is everything okay? You seem a bit distant."

"No, nothing, I am just tired of work," Jack replied, trying to hide his true feelings.

Christina placed her hand on his shoulder, "Jack, dear, don't push yourself too hard at work. I don't want to see you exhausted."

Jack smiled at her, feeling grateful for her reassurance, "Thank you, Christina. You always know how to make me feel better."

As they continued talking and watching the sunset, Jack felt more at ease. The warm glow of the sun on their faces and the soft sound of the waves gave them a sense of tranquility. As the last rays of the sun disappeared, they stood up and started walking along the beach, hand in hand, strolling in silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.

"I can't imagine my life without you, Christina," Jack said, breaking the silence.

"I feel the same way, Jack. You're my everything," Christina replied, giving him a gentle squeeze.

With contented smiles on their faces, they continued walking, grateful for the love and comfort they found in each other.

After spending a lovely evening with Christina, Jack returned to his home, but the haunting nightmare from the previous night still clung to him like a damp cloak. He trudged through the hallway, feeling the cold wooden floorboards beneath his socked feet, and headed toward  his bed. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the walls, and the air was thick with a musty scent.

As Jack climbed into bed, he felt the crispness of the sheets against his skin, but the nightmare images kept flashing in his mind, tormenting him. He tossed and turned, feeling like he was trapped in a waking nightmare. He could feel the coolness of the pillow on his cheek, but it did nothing to soothe him.

As the night wore on, Jack grew increasingly desperate for sleep. He tried to count sheep, feeling the woolly texture of their soft fur against his fingertips. He even tried deep breathing exercises, feeling the cool air entering his nostrils and the warmth of the air leaving his lips, but nothing seemed to work. By the time the sun began to rise, Jack had given up on the idea of getting any rest at all.

Dragging himself out of bed, Jack made his way to the workshop, feeling the chilly morning air on his skin. His body felt heavy and sluggish as he tried to shake off the grogginess that was weighing him down. When he arrived, Sancho was already there, and he immediately noticed Jack's exhausted state.

"Jack, are you alright? You look like you've been through a war." Sancho's voice boomed, echoing off the walls of the workshop.

"I didn't sleep much last night. Had a bad toothache," Jack replied, rubbing his eyes with the rough texture of his calloused hands.

Sancho looked concerned, his piercing green eyes scanning Jack's face. "Are you sure you're up for this? Maybe you should go home and rest."

But Jack was determined to push through. "No, I'll be fine. Let's get to work."