On the dark, undying seas of the North, a tiny boat creaked and groaned as it drifted into the unknown reaches of the dreaded Degoures Sea. Waves towered like jagged mountains—CRASH!— and the wind howled like a pack of wild beasts.
Inside, a boy with bright blue hair slept peacefully, completely unfazed. Zzz... His hair whipped left and right, dancing with the untamed gusts, and a grin—bright as the sun—stretched across his face. To the sea, he looked like an angel... or perhaps a harbinger of death, sailing straight into the unknown.
Suddenly—WHOOSH! KRAKABOOM!—the wind shifted. It wasn't just blowing; it was pummeling, slamming into the boat like the fists of an unseen giant. A wave leapt high—BOOM!—and splashes of icy water slapped the boy's face.
His eyes twitched. Blink... blink... Then they snapped open, wide with shock and discovery. Shivering from the cold and chaos, he yelped, pointing at the roiling sea.
"The damned sea... again!"
From his left pocket, he pulled out a broken compass. It still pointed west—just like it had for the past five days, ever since he'd declared himself a pirate and stolen this half-broken ship from his hometown.
"Should've taken the big one... so dumb of me," he muttered.
"Self note—get the bigger one next time."
With a bored sigh, he slung the compass around his neck like a necklace. He stretched his back, about to lie down again when—
RUMBLE.
The sea began to shake. From beneath the boat, something massive was rising. A tree. It pushed upward, dragging the boy higher by the second. When he finally realized what was happening, his grey eyes lit up like tiny stars.
He was standing on an island—
an island that had just risen from the sea.
"Huh. Never seen one like this before," he whispered to himself, half in awe.
Then came that smirk.
That devilishly adventurous grin that didn't belong on any sane man's face.
Still standing on the half-broken boat, he reached for his right pocket and pulled out a shell-shaped gun. He pressed down on the metallic handle. The weapon clicked, hissed, and split into two parts—the first attached to his hand, the second to his shoes.
White flames burst from the foot shell—FWOOOSH!—and with a jump that cracked the air, he propelled himself skyward. Mid-air, he fired a blast from the hand shell, creating another shockwave, and landed with perfect control.
Keal was ecstatic.
He ran through the wet trees and bushes,darting from place to place, boosting himself with bursts from his shoe shell.
He paused, grabbing the compass that hung around his neck. For the first time in five days, the needle shifted—pointing southwest.
A grin spread wider across his face.
"This,"he said, eyes gleaming, "is gonna be an awesome adventure."
But before he could take another step, the ground beside him began to twist.
A tree branch shot up—then another,and another—dozens in seconds.
Keal didn't notice. He was too busy spinning his compass like a toy.
Then—WHIP!—the branches lashed around him, grabbing his arms and legs. His body tensed; he tried to move, but the grip tightened like iron.
In a flash, Keal charged a white flame in his hand shell.
BOOM!The blast erupted, vaporizing the branches holding his arm. He used his foot shell, propelling himself upward, spinning mid-air, and fired again to burn through the ones that had latched onto him.
The island roared back—branches twisting and snapping—
but Keal only grinned wider.
The adventure had just begun.