The boat rocked gently in the morning breeze, its wooden planks creaking with the motion of the sea. A group of fishermen, hardened by years of living off the ocean, worked in silence, casting nets and pulling in their catch. Their calloused hands moved with practiced ease, their lives as unchanging as the tides. The horizon stretched endlessly before them, the deep blue water gleaming in the light of the rising sun.
"Another good haul today," one of the older men, Garan, called out as he helped pull in a particularly large net. The gleam of freshly caught fish caught the light, their silver scales shimmering like jewels. "The sea's generous today."
The others nodded in agreement, though their expressions were not as bright as Garan's. They had all been out at sea for days, and the fatigue was beginning to show in their eyes. It had been a long stretch of good fishing, but even seasoned sailors knew better than to get too comfortable.
"We should head back soon," Rian, the youngest of the group, said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "The sea's been calm, but there's a strange feeling in the air."
Garan glanced at him, his brow furrowing slightly. "Strange feeling, you say?" he muttered, more to himself than to Rian. But before he could say anything else, a shout rang out from one of the other boats.
"Hold up!" Kriss, one of the older men, called from the stern. His voice was sharp with urgency. "There's something out there! Over by the rocks!"
The others immediately stopped their work, eyes shifting to where Kriss pointed. At first, all they could see were the waves gently rolling against the rocks, the coastline barely visible in the distance. But as they drew closer, something unusual caught their eyes.
Lying on the water, half-submerged and barely moving, was a body. It was a man, seemingly unconscious, his form limp and unsteady as the tide gently pushed him closer to the boat.
"What in the sea's name is that?" Rian whispered, his voice tight with disbelief.
Garan squinted, adjusting his gaze to the mysterious figure. There was something about him—an odd sense of foreboding that tugged at Garan's gut. He had seen shipwrecks, castaways, and all manner of things washed ashore over the years, but there was something different about this one.
"Get the oars," Garan ordered, his voice gruff. "We're going to pull him in."
As the men rowed toward the body, the sea grew unnervingly still, as if holding its breath. The man's features were obscured by the waves, but even from this distance, the unnatural pallor of his skin was obvious. There was something faintly disturbing about the way he floated, like a rag doll tossed carelessly by the tide. His clothing was torn and ragged, his once-pristine cloak stained with dirt and saltwater.
"Is he alive?" Kriss asked, his voice low as they reached out to grab the man's arms.
Rian shook his head, disbelief settling over him. "He looks… too still."
"I don't know," Garan said, his voice solemn. He motioned for the others to pull the man aboard. "But we're not leaving him here. Let's get him back to the shore and figure it out."
The crew worked together to haul the unconscious man onto the boat, their muscles straining as they dragged him to the center of the vessel. The boat tilted slightly with the added weight, but it didn't capsize. Once the man was secured, they quickly went to work, using spare cloth to make a makeshift covering for him, trying to keep him dry. The sea had been kind enough to leave him intact, but Garan wasn't sure for how much longer that would last. The mystery of the man's sudden appearance weighed on him like a thick fog.
"Is he one of those wizards?" Rian asked, his eyes scanning the stranger's tattered clothes. "He's dressed like one, don't you think?"
Garan grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow as they rowed back toward the coast. "Could be. But I've never seen a wizard look like this before." His voice dropped low, his tone heavy with suspicion. "And I've never seen one washed up like this either."
They navigated carefully back toward the shoreline, the man's unconscious form eerily silent between them. The tide was slowly pulling them in, the distant shoreline coming into view.
Once they were safely ashore, they lifted the man onto dry land, the group remaining cautious as they surveyed the unconscious body. Garan crouched down, inspecting him carefully. There was no visible injury—no blood, no signs of struggle. His skin was unnaturally pale, but other than that, he looked mostly normal. There was a faint aura of something… dangerous about him, something that gnawed at Garan's instincts.
"He's cold," Kriss said, touching the man's forehead and pulling his hand away with a hiss. "He's freezing, but it doesn't feel like any illness I know."
"Not a fever, but not natural either," Garan replied, his brow furrowed in thought. He leaned in closer to the man's face, trying to discern any clue that might explain who he was. "He doesn't look familiar."
Rian, always the curious one, leaned in beside Garan. "What do we do with him?" he asked, glancing nervously between the others. "If he's some kind of wizard, he could be dangerous."
Garan stared at the unconscious man for a long moment before answering, his voice low and steady. "We take him to the village," he said, finally making up his mind. "There's a healer there who might be able to figure out what's wrong with him. And if he's dangerous… well, we'll deal with that when we know more."
The crew nodded, though some of them were more hesitant than others. They had seen their fair share of strange occurrences in their time at sea, but this… this felt different.
As they began to load the man back onto the boat, something about the situation unsettled Rian. There was a feeling in the air, like the storm that precedes a disaster. "Do you think he's connected to the strange things happening lately?" he asked quietly. "I've been hearing rumors about things—strange creatures, dark magic in the air…"
Garan gave him a hard look, his face grim. "Let's not jump to conclusions. First we get him to safety. Then we'll find out what's really going on."
But deep down, Garan knew that something had changed. Whatever this man was, whatever he had come from, it wasn't just a random encounter. He could feel it in his bones—this was only the beginning of something far darker than they could ever imagine.
The journey back was silent, the boat's wooden hull creaking and groaning under the weight of the mystery that had fallen upon them. With each stroke of the oars, the strange man's presence seemed to grow more oppressive, his unconscious body a silent harbinger of whatever fate had in store for them.
As they neared the village, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the water. The distant cliffs were bathed in the warm light of twilight, but even the beauty of the scene couldn't dispel the unease that clung to the men.
"What do we do when we get there?" Kriss asked, his voice low. "You don't think the village will panic, do you? This man's strange. Not just his appearance… but something else. Something wrong."
Garan didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the approaching shore. "We'll find out soon enough. If we're lucky, this will all be nothing. If not…" He trailed off, letting the words hang in the air. The weight of the unknown pressed down on them, and as the boat finally touched the shore, all the men could do was look to the distant village, wondering what awaited them.
The mysteries of the man, the dark aura that clung to him, and the forces that had brought him here were now bound to their fates. Whatever path lay ahead, it would be a path none of them could escape.
And as the boat pulled ashore, one thing was clear: this was no ordinary castaway.
It was the beginning of a new chapter—one they would soon regret.