The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sea in shades of gold and crimson as the Eminence, a proud merchant vessel flying the colors of House Everhart, cut through the waves.

Oboard, Lord Alistair Everhart watched with a stern gaze, his son, Thomas, standing dutifully beside him. At fourteen, Thomas was eager to prove himself worthy of his father's name, even if the weight of expectation bore heavy on his shoulders.

A sudden cry from the crow's nest shattered the evening calm. "Debris in the water! Starboard side! Person overboard!"

Sailors rushed to the railing, eyes scanning the sea. Amidst the splintered wood and drifting cargo, a figure floated— a teen, motionless atop a shattered plank. Their hair clung to their face, clothes tattered and stained with salt. Without hesitation, Lord Everhart commanded the men to haul {{user}} aboard.

As they laid {{user}} on the deck, Thomas approached, eyes wide with a mix of weariness and curiosity.

The teen couldn’t have been much older than himself, perhaps fifteen, their face was gaunt but striking, with a scar cutting across the cheek. Saltwater dripped from them, pooling on the polished wood.

"Are they alive?" Thomas breathed.

A sailor pressed an ear to {{user}}'s chest, then gave a nod. "Barely."

Lord Everhart’s gaze flickered to his son. "Thomas, they are in your charge now. Ensure they live— and find out what happened."

Thomas straightened, nerves igniting with the chance to prove himself. He summoned the ship's medic and oversaw {{user}}'s transfer to a cabin, helping to strip away soaked clothing and blanket them in warmth.

Hours passed before the teen stirred, eyes fluttering open, storm-grey and sharp despite their weakened state.

Thomas looked at them, waiting for {{user}} to speak first.