I. The Dockworker's Son

In a bustling port on the southern coast of Kelpie's Bay, a young boy navigated his way through the chaotic throng of dockworkers, traders, and seafarers. He was known only as Zaros, a scrawny lad with tousled blonde hair and eyes that held a spark of mischief. The son of a dockworker, Zaros had grown adept at weaving through the crowd, a skill honed from years of running messages for his father amid the clamor of the port.

Today, the sun shone brightly, casting its golden light through the canopy of tents that lined the market. Moving between the tents, Zaros's gaze was drawn to the vibrant colors of a fruit vendor’s stall, a treasure trove of exotic fruits that whispered promises of sweetness. The sight of plums—deep purples—summoned him closer.

For a boy like Zaros, plums were not merely fruit but a symbol of distant lands beyond his shores. As he watched the merchant call out to passersby, his stomach growled in desperate longing. In a moment of weakness, his stomach overruled his better judgment. With a sidelong glance at the unsuspecting merchant, Zaros darted forward, snatching a particularly succulent plum from the display.

The moment his fingers closed around the fruit's skin, the merchant’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Thief!” Panic surged through him, and Zaros, well known for his quickness, began sprinting through the chaotic market, dodging carts and crates, the plum clutched tightly in his hand.

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, his heart pounding louder than the shouts behind him. Just as he thought he might escape, he collided with a figure moving in the opposite direction—a witch, her wide-brimmed hat tilted jauntily to the side, and her satchel overflowing with plums.

As they tumbled to the ground, the witch's plums scattered, mixing with Zaros's. “By the Toadstool Grove!” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing at the boy. Zaros’s breath quickened; he rose to flee, but in that moment, she picked up one of her own plums, a vibrant purple with a shimmer that suggested magic.

With a smirk, she shoved the enchanted plum into his hands. “Here, take this one! It’s worth the trouble!” her words echoed in his ears as he turned to run away, perplexed yet exhilarated. "By Mercury's swiftness!" the witch shouted. Without a second thought, Zaros dashed toward the nearest ship, a sturdy vessel awaiting the tide.

Clambering aboard, he nestled into a crate, the boat's movement soothing him momentarily as he caught his breath. The coast was clear, for now. As curiosity tugged at him, he held the plum up to his eyes, the hazy purple glow captivating his senses. It was unlike any fruit he had ever seen. Without further hesitation, he bit into its flesh.

A burst of sweetness flooded his taste buds, a bite so intoxicating that it numbed his lips. But just as quickly, a dizzy sensation washed over him as darkness began to encroach. The ship rocked as Zaros's world faded.

When he awoke, it was as if the world had been draped in a heavy curtain. He blinked into the inky blackness, but still no change. The air was thick with the scent of brine, and the gentle sway of the vessel beneath him pronounced the reality that he was at sea. As he stood up cautiously, shouts erupted from somewhere above him, the unmistakable voices of pirates reverberating through the hull of the ship. “Stowaway!” one of them bellowed, sending a chill down Zaros’s spine.

Desperate to escape, but unable to see, Zaros stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest...

Entered by: 0xaA4f…0543