Lukey sat, eyes closed, in front of the water, hands clasped around his fishing pole.

  Lukey was a young man about fifteen years of age, rapidly approaching sixteen. He had a lean body of less than average height. He was neither built nor weak. His skin had tanned through the many years he had spent fishing on the beaches and docks, approaching a beautiful golden hue. He had sea green eyes that matched the foamy water before him, something he was often complimented for. His spiky, raven hair was tied up near the base to prevent getting in the way and jutted out in every direction in a short, spiky ponytail.

  He had his line cast into the reef before him, an atoll that had formed just off the main island. It was hidden by the massive white structures jutting out around the reef. The structures were haphazardly placed around the reef, with some curving out and over and others forming large domes. The coral that coalesced in the water around the large structures made it look like the large rocks had been around forever.

  Lukey sat just outside the atoll, on one of the boulders that overlooked the reef. Before him was a massive stretch of water, with coral that practically glowed under the sun with a myriad of colors. Lukey couldn’t even see much of the reef, due to the coral reaching up so high. Many people have sailed by and seen the place from the outside, but it was only accessible by swimming, as a ship would just get caught on the rocks. If he didn’t have his eyes closed in concentration, he could see the many tropical fish chasing each other in and out of the small tunnels that formed below.

  For most fish he could simply grab a net and cast it into the reef, but there are several reasons why doing that would be a terrible idea. First, the net would either destroy or get caught by the coral, neither of which was optimal. Second, Lukey looked around but never found an entrance to the interior of the reef. Third, Lukey isn’t after any small fry.

  After an argument with his mother, Lukey stormed off for the umpteenth time. Rod in hand with a bucket full of bait, he ran off to do some fishing. This was a common method he came up with to get over anything when he was upset. When other people started to irritate him, he caught fish. When Lukey couldn’t concentrate on his classes, he fished. When Lukey’s pet guppy got eaten five minutes after he named it, he did his best to catch and gut the menace that killed it.

  Luke's current reason for fishing today had to do with dealing with the stress of having his life decided for him this early. His mother had started nagging him more frequently to work with her more in her plant nursery, because she believed that he, like much of the island, would take a botanist class. It was a foregone conclusion; after all, there was only one sovereign icon people knew of on the island. It was the icon of Havana, which was placed here when the local guild set up a base of operations.

  After the argument, he took off with his equipment to take his mind off the inevitable. He only wore the vest that his mother had woven for him along with some linen shorts. He brought his fishing rod, complete with line and hook, and a bucket full of bait. The only other thing he brought was a bone knife that was only good for slicing fruit, though hopefully he wouldn't be needing it.

  Thinking about it all upset Lukey, both the fact that he was forced to become a botanist and the fact that he basically had to give up the only thing that gave him peace of mind. Lukey refocused his thoughts on the rod before him and the fish below him.

  It is high tide now, meaning the entire reef is flooded. Nobody could enter without being a good swimmer, and even then, it was dangerous. On a more recent trip, Lukey discovered this ledge that sat over a wide, flat boulder that overlooked an open section outside of the reef, big enough to allow him to cast a line. He made plans to start fishing here, prepared his equipment, and set off the next day.

  Lukey sat, eyes closed. He focused entirely on the tension of the rod, waiting for the fish to bite the hook, feeling for the most minute movement. He sat patiently for minutes, unmoving. Any movement could disturb the rod and scare them away. He discovered through trial and error that this was the method that worked best, so it couldn’t be helped.

  Eventually he was rewarded, and his eyes snapped open. A tiny tug of the rod signaled that his prey down below was getting curious. The bait Lukey used was composed of the Buster Shell meat, a type of giant crab that was commonly found on the beaches around the island and commonly used for both food and bait. The crab meat was also mixed with fermented fish juice to give an extremely enticing aroma. Lukey had hoped that everything he made would be enough to attract any predatory fish in the reef.

  Lukey waited in anticipation, hoping the creature would be enticed enough by the scent of fish juice to investigate his hook further. Another tug signaled that the fish was getting a bit more curious about the meal before him. Lukey had to be patient; big fish, especially predators, could sense deception, so he had to remain a statue, lest his prey get scared off.

  Lukey braced his hands for what was about to come. The little tugs continued, the line bobbing with an uneven pattern, slowly building to a soundless crescendo. Lukey was tempted to hold his breath in anticipation, but he needed air to think. The best way to concentrate was with steady breaths, something Lukey was practiced in.

  ‘C’mon. Bite it already,’ Lukey thought while exhaling, his breaths quickening in anticipation.

  The line stopped altogether. Suddenly, Lukey was worried. All that work and worry had led up to nothing. It is distinctly possible that the fish nibbled at the bait until it fell and swam off with its prize shortly after. Lukey would have to pull up the line to be sure, but that would disturb the water, so he avoided it. He wanted to be sure, so he waited patiently for another minute or two until he felt nothing else come. Just when he was considering pulling up the line, something happened…

  Suddenly, something pulled the line with a force intent on ripping his arms out of their sockets. Shocked, Lukey stumbled forward to the ledge.

  ‘Whoa! Did you crawl out of the Abyssal Depths?!’

  It took a moment for him to regain his balance, after which he recovered from his shock with a newfound determination. Lukey then reciprocated by taking two steps back and yanking the rod with both hands in a swift, overhead motion, looking to yank the heavy monster out of the water. To his surprise, the line didn’t budge, only growing taut as if it were caught on a rock. He was afraid the line would snap, so he changed his strategy. He walked back until the line was braced against the ledge like a rough pulley.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  His plan was simple; he wouldn’t fight the fish. Rather, he would catch the line on the ledge and let the rough stone do the job of pulling it. The fish would struggle, but it would just be wasting energy. When the fish was worn out and stopped fighting, he would put it out of the water.

  ‘Alright, if this is how you want to fight, then prepare to lose…’

  Lukey sat low to the ground, sure that this fish would continue to thrash pointlessly and waste its energy; however, the unexpected occurred. Instead of pulling down as planned, the fish swam away, opposite where Lukey was standing. Because of this, Lukey lost the friction of the boulder and ended up being pulled forward towards the water. Not one to be bested, Lukey worked to regain his balance, then braced one leg against a large rock that protruded from the ground.

  “It’s over. I have the high ground!”

  Lukey shouted, then planted one foot on the rock and one foot on the ground and pulled, HARD! The rod was bent in a way that made it look like it would snap. Lukey anticipated this, so he specifically used pelu wood, which was known for its flexible properties. The line was made of multiple threads of cotton procured from the mainland, strong enough to handle most ordinary fish. The hook was carved from a monster bone Lukey was fortunate enough to find. All these elements should have given him an advantage over the fish below him, but that didn’t mean anything in front of the creatures’ raw strength.

  Lukey looked down at the creature attempting to drag him to the water to get a good view of what exactly was giving him such a hard time.

  A large eel was swimming with zest at the other end of his line. Judging by its length, it was more than twice Lukey’s short stature. It had a large mouth, filled with teeth that could tear him to pieces. Two large fangs protruded from the lower lip of the eel’s mouth. It was yellow, with brown spots that covered the length of its body. Finally, it had orange eyes with black hourglass pupils, glowing with an intelligence that Lukey had never seen before in a fish.

  The chubby-looking eel, likely a moray, was moving away from him with the line still in its mouth. Lukey thought that the fish was just trying to escape; however, from the way it escaped his trap, he wasn’t so sure. It seemed like the eel was pulling the line in a way that whatever it was connected to would be pulled horizontally off the edge. It was almost like the fish was trying to drag him to the water.

  Luke had come prepared to catch something big, and he intended to make it home with this beast. Lukey braced himself against the rock and yanked the rod further than before. The rod bent at an even more extreme angle, crying over the punishment Lukey was giving it. In response, the eel swam even harder, throwing up water as high as it was long. It could have been Lukey’s imagination, but he could have sworn he saw the fish turn and flash a smile. It was the kind of smile Lukey gave when he found his favorite meal laid out before him.

  I know I should run… but dammit, I need this!

  Lukey knew that he screwed up attempting to pick a fight against this opponent, especially because he lacked a class to combat it. He just didn’t care. He had come to the reef to catch a fish, preferably something that would allow him to prove his worth. If Lukey could catch the eel and bring it home, maybe he could show that he was destined for something beyond being a botanist. Maybe his mother and the emperor would reassess his situation and perhaps send him to continents to let him choose a better class.

  The two hunters remained locked in their tug-of-war. Breaking the stalemate would require something to give: either Lukey, with his rod raised in an attempt to move the immovable, or the eel, attempting to drag a hapless fisherman to his death trying to feed its bottomless gluttony. What neither of them had expected, however, was the creaking coming from Lukey’s fishing pole.

  The rod’s creaking got louder and louder and eventually displayed cracks along the wooden surface. The fishing pole finally splintered to pieces at the handle, with the top half flying over Lukey’s head and over the ledge, into the water. Lukey fell back on his rear, half in shock over how the rod had broken and half frustrated that he lost his potential ticket to a better life.

  He watched with disappointment as the remainder of the fishing rod fell into the reef below. Once it hit the water, the eel attacked with a ferocity Lukey didn’t know a fish could muster. The eel dove and launched his body at the fishing pole, ripping it to pieces in a similar frustration to Lukey’s.

  Now that he had a moment to think clearly, Lukey went over what had just happened.

  Lukey had expected some big fish to be certain, but nothing like what he had just encountered. Being classless meant Lukey didn’t have much experience with monsters, especially not intelligent monsters. If only he had the focus to use insight.

  The eel didn’t act like any other monster that just followed its instincts; rather, its eyes seemed to contain desire and hunger. Lukey recalled hearing something about intelligent monsters in his lessons, but he had a bad habit of abandoning the attention of the world around him to hyperfocus on certain things.

  In this world deadly monsters exist, but insight only identifies them by the names of their species and type. Lukey has encountered crabs, fish, and reptiles of various sizes, all of them possessing names that are associated with what the creature is. From what other villagers told him, the information insight provided them showed basic names identifying all these creatures.

  Lukey racked his head to recall one of the many lessons about the world he had only half paid attention to. The eel was clearly special, but Lukey struggled to remember why. While he was lost in thought, however, he heard footsteps approaching the ledge.

  At first, Lukey braced himself at the prospect of having to face off against any monsters that were lured either by the eel flailing in the water or Lukey’s shouting. Monsters should only be beaten by those with a class, or you risk serious injuries. Lukey had yet to obtain his class, but he was sure of himself when it came to avoiding encounters, hence why he came to this place alone. Fortunately, this wasn’t the case at all, as he saw an old man run into the clearing behind him.

  The man possessed golden brown skin, like Lukey and almost every other islander had. His body sagged in some places, yet his broad and muscular body told of a man that spent years training himself. He had a frazzled beard that seemed to be the hallmark of a hermit who didn’t care much about his appearance. The sunspots on his bald head were proof that he spent far too much time sitting in the sun.

  To further add to his odd appearance, the only thing he wore was a pair of fraying linen pants. Whether he was too poor or didn’t care enough to get it fixed, Lukey couldn’t say. Clearly, he was a confident fighter, because he held a spear in his right hand. It had a spearhead carved from bleached bones, tied to a sturdy wooden pole by means of what looked to be tree sap and thread.

  The old man glanced in his direction briefly before running to the ledge. He gazed down at the enraged eel, focusing on its form without even a hint of fear. Lukey pulled up next to him and peered over the ledge to see what had happened to the eel.

  The eel had finished tearing up Lukey’s rod and was rapidly speeding around the pool of water below the ledge. Then, it seemed to slow down, only to stop and look up at the ledge. Clearly the eel was spooked, because its eyes widened briefly before swimming away through a tunnel in the coral that led out of the area below the ledge.

  "Well, that confirms it. So, there is a tyrant around here." The old man muttered before giving a look of annoyance.

  The old man then turned to Lukey before saying, “You, boy. Mind if we have a talk?”