The Sea Serpent sailed quietly through the fog, its crew sharp-eyed as they scoured the horizon. Captain Marek, a tall man with storm-gray eyes and a scar running across his jaw, leaned against the ship’s railing. His first mate, a fiery-haired woman named Elira, stood beside him, her gaze scanning the shore of the tiny island ahead.
“Looks deserted,” Elira muttered.
Marek nodded. “It usually is. But we’ll check for supplies. You never know what you’ll find.”
The pirates lowered a small rowboat and made their way to the island. It was barren, just jagged rocks and sparse vegetation. But as they moved further inland, a faint sound caught their attention—a soft, pitiful whimper.
“Did you hear that?” asked Rowan, the ship’s navigator, gripping the hilt of his dagger.
Elira motioned for silence, and the group moved toward the sound. Behind a cluster of jagged rocks, they found a small boy, barely five years old. His clothes were torn, his face smeared with dirt, and his frame so thin it seemed like a strong wind could knock him over.
The boy flinched when he saw them, his wide eyes filled with fear.
“Easy, lad,” Marek said, crouching down to his level. His voice, rough as the sea, softened just slightly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
Elira knelt beside the captain, holding out a small piece of bread she had tucked into her satchel. “Here, little one. You look like you need this.”
The boy hesitated but eventually reached out, snatching the bread and devouring it as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“What’s your name, kid?” Rowan asked, his tone gruff but not unkind.
The boy didn’t answer, only stared at them with guarded eyes.
“He doesn’t trust us yet,” Elira said. “Can you blame him? Look at him—he’s been through hell.”
Marek’s gaze darkened as he took in the boy’s condition. Bruises and scratches marked his skin, and his tiny hands clutched the bread like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
“We’re taking him with us,” the captain declared, standing up.