He laid on the sand, the water washing over him in waves, debris from his demolished ship piling around him. He was lucky to be alive and said a silent prayer of thanks and for continued protection in the trials to come.
He’d been close to death mere hours ago. His vessel had been hijacked by a rogue band of pirates and they threatened to kill him if he didn’t surrender. Being held in the hold of the ship offered him only one means of escape from the ruthless abduction of the pirates. He lit the many barrels of powder on fire and managed to dive into the water just as it exploded.
Now, lying on the beach, trying to catch his breath, a parchment washed onto his chest. It was blood-stained and badly worn, but he looked at it all the same, grateful for a diversion.
His eyes alighted on a crudely drawn map with directions to a treasure chest. He kissed the map and once again thanked the Lord that those pirates had sought him to plunder on this fateful day. He stood on shaky legs and began to count steps.