Wolfrie rowed and rowed. Where he was going he didn’t know. He couldn’t go home, his father’s words still echoed in his head. He decided to head west surely, he would find something there. He rowed and rowed, collided with turbulent waves, winds from all directions, rains when blast of cold wind threw him off course. His boat began to spin and spin in circles, when a flyer blew onto his face. As the winds died down and his boat came to a stop, Wolfrie peeled the flyer from his face. What was a flyer doing in the middle of the ocean. With curiosity he carefully read the flyer.
The flyer was made by a grieving mother who could not find her son, Solomon, the sorcerer. He had been missing for five years and the mother needed to find her son. Wolfrie got an idea. A brilliant one, he would say it was. He didn’t have a plan, he didn’t think he needed one, assuming Solomon’s mother was too old to recognize her son. He took out the compass and the map he had stolen from the Captain’s cabin and rowed in the direction the flyer gave to find Solomon’s home.
A week later, Wolfrie arrive to Solomon’s home. He was tired, hungry and thirsty, and almost at death’s door, as he crept out of the boat. He hoped it would be the last time, he sailed across the ocean’s waves. Though, he was dismayed when he looked up to see Solomon’s fortress built on top a mountain of rocks way up high. If he could reach the door, his dream of being a sorcerer would finally come true. So close, yet so far away. He slowly climbed the rocks.