There was a song I used to remember.

Sad and sweet, the most beautiful melody you could ever hope to hear. I used to sit in a grove, with my ocarina and play that song. The animals that lived there used to come sit by me as I played. For hours at a time, my notes would fill the air and echo through the trees.

My father always thought I was wasting my time - a hopeless dreamer he called me. Yet despite the gruff exterior he put on, I knew he always secretly loved to hear me play. He was the one that had given the instrument to me in the first place.

It was almost as if there was a kind of mythical power in my ocarina. It seemed to pour out of my soul, through my breath and out onto the winds. If I had played a happy melody, the world itself seemed to make itself brighter in appearance and clouds would disappear, revealing the clear blue sky and shining yellow sun. If it was a sad ballad, the world around me would seem to weep in sympathy for the sadness enveloping my grove.

If only I could remember how it went.

But now, I was trapped in this world of ruin and decay. All the colour of this once beautiful world has faded. My grove was now desolate and haunted. My memories had dulled in the time I had been here. I no longer had my flute with me and there was no way back to that place of mine, with my animal friends. I was losing my consciousness of who I once was.

How I longed to hear that tune again.

Something rustled nearby and looking up I saw a boy who was not much older than me. His shape had not been changed by this world.

'What are you doing here?' he asked.

'After wandering into this world I turned into this shape,' I told him. 'I enjoyed playing the flute in

the original world... I buried it with some flower seeds in a grove where animals used to gather.'

I wished I could see that place again. The boy had promised to find my flute for me. I did not know how much longer I would survive though. My mind was growing hazy. Soon my old life would be gone forever and I would become something else. I would no longer be me.

The boy soon returned - he had been able to find it.

'Thankyou,' I said. 'But it looks like I can no longer play myself.' My limbs had gone all rigid and darkness was beginning to descend.

'Please, let me hear the sound of the flute, one last time.'

The boy lifted it to his lips and began to play. It was a sad and sweet melody that sounded vaguely familiar. Nostalgia flowed through me and my mind began to drift as I slowly faded into darkness.

I remembered it now.

And I smiled.

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