Fiction! Born to lose (Part I)

Eliza was born under a stormy sky, the kind that wept with a fury mirroring the despair in her mother's eyes. Even then, fate seemed to be whispering its cruel prophecy – a life destined for loss. Her father, a fisherman with a heart as wide as the ocean he sailed, was swallowed whole by a tempest just weeks after her arrival. The sea, his provider and companion, became Eliza's villain, a constant reminder of the gaping hole in their tiny, salt-scented home.

Growing up, Eliza carried the weight of loss like a worn shawl. Her mother, fragile with grief, clung to the dwindling savings, a thin line between them and destitution. Their seaside village, once a vibrant canvas of laughter and shouting children, became shrouded in a melancholic silence. Eliza, a wisp of a girl with eyes the color of storm clouds, learned to navigate a world painted in shades of absence.

Her only solace was the beach. Every day, she'd sit on the worn, grey sand, the rhythm of the waves a constant dirge. She'd weave stories in the tide pools, imagining them filled with fantastical creatures, creatures that wouldn't vanish like her father.

One stormy afternoon, a glint of gold caught her eye. Buried beneath the frothing waves lay a small, intricately carved compass. Its needle spun frantically, refusing to settle. Eliza, drawn to its strange energy, carefully tucked it in her pocket.

From that day, the compass became her talisman. It pulsed with a warm energy in her hand, a silent promise of something more. It fueled a spark of defiance within her – a refusal to accept the label of "born to lose."

Eliza devoured books, escaping into worlds where heroes triumphed against impossible odds. She devoured knowledge, yearning to understand the secrets hidden within the compass. With each stolen moment, she practiced reading the stars, charting her own course.

Years flew by, each a battle against the rising tide of debt and her mother's fading health. One day, a traveling scholar passed through the village. Intrigued by Eliza's obsession with the compass, he saw the yearning in her eyes. He spoke of lost civilizations, of ancient maps that held the key to hidden treasures, enough to lift a village from poverty.

Eliza's heart hammered in her chest. Was this the answer? The chance to break the cycle of loss? The scholar offered to train her, but the journey would be long and fraught with danger. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind – could she leave her ailing mother?

The compass, as if sensing her hesitation, grew warm in her hand. Looking at her mother, frail but with a flicker of pride in her cloudy eyes, Eliza knew what she had to do. With a heavy heart and a resolute spirit, she set sail on a rickety boat, leaving behind the only life she knew.
The journey was a brutal test of her resilience. She braved treacherous storms, navigated by the compass and the knowledge gleaned from the scholar. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, exhaustion tugged at her limbs, but the compass remained warm, a promise of a better future.

Finally, after months at sea, they landed on a forgotten island, a tapestry of lush greenery untouched by time. The scholar led them deeper into the island, his excitement palpable. But as they reached a hidden cave, a trap sprung. A band of ruthless pirates emerged, their eyes gleaming with greed.

The scholar had been a conman, luring her with a fabricated tale to claim the lost treasure for himself. Eliza, betrayed and enraged, fought back, a fury born from years of loss surging through her. But she was outnumbered, her knowledge and courage no match for their blades.

Just as they were about to overpower her, the compass in her pocket flared. A blinding light erupted from it, engulfing the cave. When the light died, the pirates were gone, and the scholar lay whimpering on the ground, clutching a useless, inert compass.

Before Eliza could understand what happened, the cave floor gave way, dropping her into a hidden chamber beneath. The fall knocked the wind out of her lungs, but she was unharmed. Around her, an ethereal light emanated from countless artifacts – the true lost treasure, untouched for centuries.

Tears streamed down Eliza's face, not tears of loss this time, but tears of bittersweet triumph. Had she lost the battle, she had won the war. The treasure meant security for her village, a future for her mother.

She climbed back to the surface, heart lighter than it had ever been. The island, once a symbol of betrayal, now held the promise of a new beginning. As she sailed back, leaving behind the island bathed in an otherworldly glow, the compass in her pocket remained cool, its work done.