The water rippled a transparent blue as the wind gently caressed its waves. This was what it was like every day for a young boy who lived with his mother in a mountainous seaside town with a few other families.

''Come now, let's get prepared,'' the young boy's mother called her son early in the morning. Today was the day that everyone from the mainland was to bring with them anything and everything that reflected their cultural heritage to three separate islands out at sea.

The young boy put his things in one huge sack and brought it to the boat they were going to sail in. His mother took her things as well and both of them got on and waited until more of their neighbors joined them.

When everyone was finally onboard, the boat began its voyage out to sea. A few moments later, they could see other boats joining alongside them, for they too were also going to one of the three islands.

''I still do not understand what is going on,'' the young boy said. His mother put her arm around him. ''Please know,'' she said to him, ''This is the last chance all our people can get together and celebrate and pay tribute to our heritage. Hwoelian is coming.''

The young boy knew the story well. Hwoelian, which literally means ''the wave that wipes away memories'', was the incoming catastrophe that was approaching them. ''It is not a mere folk tale because it is very real,'' his mother said, ''Long ago, our people predicted it will return to strike again and it comes every few thousand years. Those who dove to the bottom of the sea have seen civilizations gone.''

It is a terrifying end. A gigantic tidal wave that is several miles high comes and engulfs everything in its path. Nothing can hide from it. For anyone who survives its wrath, they do not remember anything. Civilizations and cultures, all destroyed with no memory of them whatsoever.

''Do not keep it mind now,'' his mother said to him. They both laid back in the boat until they arrived to one of the three islands.

''Why here?'' the young boy asked. ''Our ancestors have been doing traditional activities here for centuries,'' said his mother. He helped her carry their things onto the island.

The three islands were arranged in a triangular position. It was utterly mysterious seeing how it was positioned in an almost perfect triangle. This mystery was one of the reasons the people have carried out their daily rituals in this place for generations.

The young boy enjoyed himself by what he saw. There were streams of banners adjoining masts and poles. There were women doing traditional embroideries and groups of people singing various folk songs. At one end of the island, there were artists doing old-style paintings and sculptures. Virtually everything was dedicated to their way of life.

The young boy took out his bow and arrow and participated in the archery contest, and managed to come in fourth place. His mother was busy building kites for people to fly. When all her material had almost run out, she used what she had left over and made her son one to fly himself.

The two of them had almost exasperated their time on the first island, and they had a lot of fun. A new load of people were coming ashore to participate in its activities. The next boat was to take them to the next island, and the boats rotate around the three islands until everyone visited each of them.

Once they got to the next island, they noticed how different it was in nature to the first. This particular island was dedicated to presenting all the plants and wildlife the people have known.

There were different kinds of birds, and all came in different sizes. They kept them in cages held strong with a waxy sap. The special bird of the island was a small breed that kept a toxin in its feathers.

One part of the exhibit showcased a series of fish and amphibious creatures in aquariums while another was about the aquatic rodents that inhabited the islands as well as the surrounding areas.

What struck the young boy and his mother the most was the huge flower exhibition. There were literally hundreds of different types of native flowers handpicked by the people just for the occasion. There were many colorful flower beds in different patterns, and they were all classified for everyone to know their names. There were also trees and hedges shaped into the characters of folk stories.

After enjoying the sights of the second island, it was time to head to the third and final island. The young boy and his mother waited at the harbor for the next boat to arrive. By the time it had arrived, the sun was at its peak.

Soon thereafter, the young boy and his mother were onto the festivities on the very last island. This island was almost exclusively reserved for telling the history of their people. Many famous individuals including leaders, artisans, and intellectuals were recognized. Many legends and myths explaining how life began and the creation of the world were told.

However, one thing that set this island apart from the others was the number of fanatical games that were played. Several traditional outings, including the well-known paint-splashing festival, were celebrated.

The idea of the paint-splashing festival was to get as many colors on your body within a limited period of time. Contestants are blind-folded and can only walk around a certain distance within a circle. They are surrounded by people who throw buckets of paint in random directions into the circle, and they too are also blind-folded.

Another crazy traditional game was the lantern race. Players are split into teams and they each have to build their own lanterns. The lanterns are lit and from the starting point, teams have to run two laps around the whole island while holding onto the lanterns. It is a relay race, with team members handing their lantern to another member. If the fire inside a team's lantern goes out, they will have to light it again and start at the very beginning. Along the way, teams will face multiple obstacles such as climbing trees and wading through ponds so the race is not exactly easy.

The young boy did not participate in these games, but he found them ridiculously fun to watch. His mother liked the fact he was enjoying this moment, because it will be the last and only time he will get to know his cultural background before it disappears forever.

By the time the games ended, everyone had already been to all three islands and experienced everything their traditional heritage had to offer. They all got onto the boats to head back to their homes on the mainland.

The young boy thanked his mother for taking him along, and he did not have any regrets. Everyone left the islands with smiles and were fully content about seeing and recalling the entire record of their people all in one day.

But without any warning, the waters beneath them began to stir suddenly. The rumblings grew louder as the boats started to drift farther and farther apart from each other. The young boy grabbed his mother's hand as their boat began swaying violently from side to side. He held his bow and arrow with the other hand.

''What is happening?'' the young boy cried panicking. He looked across from him and the other boats had already capsized with people desperately struggling to keep themselves afloat. Children could be heard screaming but were hidden and nowhere in sight.

The clouds grew somber and they quickly blocked out the sun's light. In the distance, a dark gigantic entity was heading in their direction. It came towards them, in absolute silence. No one could do anything but stare at it.

The morning after, torn remnants of a bygone civilization laid floating on the water's surface. The rest sank to the depths below. A young boy woke up in a boat that was broken in pieces. He had a bow and arrow in his hand, but let go of it not knowing why he was even holding it.

He looked at the boundless sea with a worried look on his face, having no idea who he was or where he came from.