Of Tuna, Storms, and Strange New Wings — Nuradeen Sets Sail

By: Nuradeen, Sea-Scared Desert Dweller, Tuna Wrangler (Temp), Vampire Roommate (Possibly)

Salam, Peace, and Pew Pew to All!

The port of Beijing was chaos — ships creaking, sailors shouting, the air thick with war rumors and overpriced ticket fares.

I walked from vessel to vessel, hoping one would offer me passage to Chile. But the war between WET and China had spooked the seas. Most ships wouldn't even look south, let alone sail it. The few who dared?

Well… they charged more than I’d made in my entire grain-selling career.

With no chapatis, no hope, and no ship, I did what I do best,

I sat on a bench and wallowed in poetic despair.

My dream of returning to Arar — to the wind-swept fields, the smell of cumin in the air, the sweet bleating of confused goats — was slipping away.

And then... a tap on my shoulder.

I turned to find a young Asian man with jet-black hair, almost ghostly pale skin, and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I heard you’re looking for a ship to Chile,” he said.

I nodded.

“Name’s Vlad,” he continued.

(I know. I know. Vlad? Asian? Something wasn’t adding up... but I was too desperate to care.)

“I have a boat. I’ll take you to Chile for free — if you join my crew.”

He had me at “free.”

Without a second thought — or a single glance at the fine print — I signed his contract. Vlad’s grin widened ever so slightly.

Then he took me to the ship.

Well, “ship.”

It was an antique tuna boat that looked like it had fought in three wars and lost all of them. The paint peeled. The engine coughed. The smell of fish haunted its every corner.

“I hope you don’t get seasick,” Vlad said, grinning.

I realized then: I had signed up to become a tuna fisherman.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked.

He stared at me. “You’re looking at him.”

Apparently, everyone in Japan had refused to go fishing during wartime, and China’s remaining men were all off to the frontlines.

“You’re my last hope,” Vlad said cheerfully.

(So basically... I’m bait.)

Despite the circumstances, I warmed up to Vlad.

He was surprisingly wise for someone so young. We talked about history, war, and the rise and fall of empires.

He spoke about ancient battles with eerie clarity, like he’d been there.

But one thing bothered me:
He never ate.

Every time I offered him food, he politely declined.

“Already full,” he’d say with a distant smile.

Well. More rations for me.

On Day 3, Vlad suddenly stopped the boat.

“Sonar detected a large school. Let’s fish!”

He showed me the ropes. I fumbled a bit but eventually got the hang of it. Soon, our lines were tight, the reels spinning, and Q4 and Q5 tuna practically leaping onto the deck.

Hours passed.

We cast, reeled, recast. The sea provided. The tuna were plenty.

Then Came the Storm

We didn’t notice the clouds until it was too late.

The wind howled.

The waves surged.

Vlad tried to steer us toward a distant island — but the sea had other plans.

A massive wave struck.

The boat capsized.

And I, Nuradeen of the Desert, was swallowed by the unforgiving Pacific.

When I came to, I was flying.

Or rather, I was being carried — by something enormous.

A bat.

A massive, winged creature gripped me in its claws as it soared above the storm.

I should’ve been terrified.

But somehow... I wasn’t.

The bat flew through the night, over the waves, through lightning and wind — and finally, gently, dropped me on the beach of an unknown island before vanishing into the clouds.

Where’s Vlad?

I scrambled to my feet, soaked and dizzy.

No sign of the tuna boat.

No sign of Vlad.

Just the howling wind and my thoughts.

Had he drowned?

Had he vanished?

Or had he… flown?

Something about his pale skin.
His ancient wisdom.
His complete avoidance of food.
His odd name.

And now, a giant bat that rescues me right after Vlad disappears?

Coincidence?

Yeah, probably not.