Phineas was dextrous and loved to work with his hands in the warm sun. As a wee young lad he could mend a net faster and with far more expertise than any others twice his age. Smart and quick witted, his father worried only that his small stature and lack of physical strength would make an ill fit to the rough hard profession he would grow up to have. Those worries were not unfounded.

In his 13th year Phineas took ill. At first it appeared to be but a common ailment, but somewhere deep in his body the illness found a weakness in his body and took root there. After many weeks of growing worse, more and more sickly and weak, his father approached a local Mage of no small reputation for help. This woman, by the name Maia, was in the unusual position of owing Phineas's father a large and personal favor, so she consented to have a look at the child.

What she saw grieved her, for she was not as heartless and practical as others of her craft. Phineas's body had withered to that of a small child, his skin was the color of death, and his breath came in ragged gasps. She intone a small spell that would let her learn more of what ailed the child, and to her astonishment found the boy repeating her arcane words precisly, even in his half-conscious state.

She spent days and nights concocting a cure, and delivered it to the family, with one caveat. Phineas would not become a fisherman, he would come to live with her as an apprentice, able to visit the family but nothing more.

Phineas's father was greatly saddened to hear her demands, but accepted so that his son might live. As he grew he saw less and less of his family, who did not understand what he was becoming. He saw his father one last time before leaving the island, shortly after Maia's death. He would remember the sage words his father spoke for many years.

"Ye are always my son, always were, always will be. I don't regret giving ye to the Mage, all those years ago, ev'n though I've not seen ye grow to become a man. I would give ye one thing in advice though lad, a father's love an' parting gift. Wherever ye be, whatever ye do, be a fisherman of ye own dreams, fill yer net with them, and remember where ye came from, so as not to see yerslf as above other men."