On a cold, stormy night, a sailor gripped the wheel of his ship, Hard Heart. The mast creaked under the strain, and the sails flapped wildly as if they might tear away at any moment. In the distance, a lighthouse beam sliced through the chaos, offering a clear path to safety. But the sailor, squinting into the light, grimaced. “Quit blinding me!” he yelled. With a defiant jerk of the wheel, he steered straight into the rocks.

The ship splintered, and the sailor, overwhelmed by panic, leapt off the deck, hoping to escape the wreckage. He swam to shore, but as he stumbled onto land, the ground beneath him gave way, tumbling him into a deep, dark pit. Groaning in the darkness, he looked up to see a white-robed man lowering a shimmering golden rope. “Grab hold!” the man called.

The sailor gasped and pointed. “A snake!” he cried, backing away.

The robed man sighed, knelt at the pit’s edge, and pulled out a rescue radio. “Here, use this. It will call for help.”

The sailor stared at the radio, frowning. “I don’t have time for someone to respond,” he muttered. “I need help now!”

Somehow, the sailor climbed his way out of the pit and stumbled upon a nearby guesthouse. Inside, a beautifully illustrated instruction manual for life sat on the table. The same man as before handed it to him gently. The sailor examined it for a moment, nodding thoughtfully, before tearing out a few pages and folding them into paper airplanes. “Why is life so confusing?” he muttered, watching the planes crash to the floor.

Outside, the sailor found himself standing on the deck of a brand-new ship—New Dawn. Sleek, sturdy, and gleaming as though it had never seen a storm. The robed man pointed to it. “Here, this will take you where you need to go.” The sailor crossed his arms, shaking his head. “If I can’t have my old ship back, I won’t have any ship at all!” He turned away, determined to salvage the wreckage of Hard Heart, despite its unyielding refusal to stay afloat.

With a sigh, the sailor trudged back toward the guesthouse. As he entered, the warmth of the fire and the comforting scent of tea offered him brief solace. The robed man, watching from across the room, gestured toward a small wooden table. “Here, rest. Drink this; it’ll soothe you.” The sailor eyed the tea suspiciously and pushed it aside. “I don’t take drinks from strangers!”

The robed man stepped back, arms crossed, watching the sailor slump in frustration, torn pages of the manual scattered around him and the untouched tea still steaming on the table. The man then offered him a room and handed him the key. “If you need anything, I’m here.”