The morning sun cast a golden glow over the rolling waves as the Talan trade ship sailed steadily through the sapphire waters. Aro, known as "Fluke" to the crew, was perched in the crow’s nest, keeping a vigilant watch. The pirate ship that had appeared on the horizon was now alarmingly close.
Without warning, a cannon fired from the pirate vessel, and the Talan ship shook violently from the impact. The force threw Aro off balance, and flames erupted on the deck below.
Acting on instinct, Aro tried to slide down the ropes of the crow’s nest to get to cover, but his grip slipped. He fell hard onto the deck, landing on his back, knocking the wind out of him. A pack of bullets he carried flew from his back, scattering across the deck to an unknown location.
Lying there helplessly, Aro watched as the Talan crew sprang into action. The roar of cannons thundered in his ears, and the sharp scent of gunpowder filled the air. Despite the chaos, Aro’s vision remained sharp, and he struggled to his feet.
The battle was fierce but brief. The Talan crew's retaliation was swift and powerful. The sounds of combat gradually faded, replaced by a deafening silence. Then, a cheer erupted from the crew. Aro stumbled to the edge of the ship and peered over the railing.
The pirate ship was ablaze, sinking slowly into the depths. Several pirates, desperate to escape the flames, jumped overboard. Aro’s heart sank as he realized most of them couldn't swim. His vision returned, showing the inevitable—those who had jumped overboard were already dead in the water, their bodies claimed by the sea.
Breathing heavily, Aro steadied himself, the adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly subsiding. The crew's cheers continued, but Aro's mind was elsewhere, haunted by the vision and the knowledge that more dangers lay ahead.
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