Passage on The Golden Dawn

We have set sail, and are underway to Aldrake.

I am at the head with my vessel The Golden Dawn, and not far behind is my second and third in command, Doña Isabella and The Iron Virtue.

Together we are leading the Krespanian Armada across the Arctos Ocean where we will rendezvous with my brother, Lennox's forces near the island, Rozkoria, and continue to Aldrake.

The Golden Dawn is a beautiful ship, durable and swift upon the waves, constructed in the manner of all Krespanian sailing vessels.

She is a fully rigged vessel with four masts bearing the forest green sails with the crest of Krespania imprinted upon them.

My cabin is a particularly large one contrary to the standard size.

There is a bed at the right side, a dark wood armoire and desk, (where I am writing this), to the left.

At the rear of the room are two French doors that open up to a balcony with a view of the sea, which is where I spend most of my afternoons when I am free, watching the sunset.

The luxuries aboard a ship are modest and few, yet I am fond of sea voyages nonetheless.

I am content simply sailing upon the waves of the sea, with the endless miles of water surrounding me, and the canvas billowing in the wind overhead.

It holds a freshness, a sense of adventure for me, and a freedom that no other place produces.

On the sea you can easily pretend that there is no one else or no where else aside from it.

Though not all days are so lovely.

Late yesterday afternoon a tempest arose swiftly from the South.

It rained in torrents and the sea grew fierce, raging against the hull of the ship.

We spent the better part of the night being tossed upon the waves and swaying violently to and fro.

I have been on many voyages since I was an adolescent, so I am accustomed to the sea and it's instability, yet I have to admit that last night, even I was not feeling at full strength.

The ship groaned and creaked at every careen, and sounded as if it would break and splinter to pieces by the violence of the waves beating against it.

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and occasionally a flash of lightening would brighten the sky.

From the window I could see the sea churning and frothing angrily, as if we had disturbed it's slumber and it was getting it's revenge upon our ships.

It continued in such a manner all night, not allowing me to sleep but only to despair, when about four in the morning I felt, more than saw, a change.

The swaying of the ship had eased, the tumult of the waves had subsided, and the rain lessened to a drizzle.

The thunder sounded more distant, and the lightning struck less often.

Just as the weather calmed so did I, and it was not long after that I drifted off to a much welcome sleep. When I awoke it was nearly midday, and what a surprise for me to find that there was not a cloud in the sky!

It was crystal clear outside; as if the storm was only my imagination, and it did not take place.

I had concerns about whether we had lost any time during the tempest when we drifted uncontrollably, but the captain reported that we were on course and shall make the rendezvous with hardly any delay as scheduled.

But until we join and proceed to the war in Aldrake, I will try to enjoy every moment I have aboard The Golden Dawn.

Even if the object of the mission is not pleasant, it does not mean that the journey has to be the same.

You might conjecture that having to endure the discomfort of a storm, such as the one that has just passed, is not worth embarking on a voyage, but it is absolutely worth it.

When you watch the sun rising in the early hours, where the sky meets the sea, and shedding it's soft, golden rays across the rolling waves of the sea, the feeling is indescribable.

So peaceful and tranquil.

So worth it.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

  Queen of Krespania