Drowning in the heart of the inevitable

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It was night. A cargo ship was sailing across the sea, carrying a large load of cargo and a few passengers. The captain paced nervously on deck, sensing something. Seagulls echoed his demeanor, flying very low over the sea. The tension was contagious.
The roar of the sea was drowned out by an explosion on the ship's starboard side. Following the explosion, three pirate ships appeared on the horizon, lumbering, bringing fear, pain, and carnage. A battle ensued. Gorazd, a 14-year-old Slavic boy, assisted as best he could: loading cannons, carrying shells, and replacing fallen sailors. But it all proved pointless; the sailors were becoming fewer and fewer, and there was a shortage of labor. The pirates sailed closer, and all hell broke loose. Their ship was boarded.