The Horizon's Call sailed into a domain where the first flush of light fought against the remaining blackness of a long, unyielding night. Once wild and harsh, the water now lay subdued—a huge, undulating expanse of deep azure and slate, gently lit by the faint beams of an approaching sun. But behind this false quiet, the ocean throbbed with the raw, relentless force of fate, a power that called for atonement for the decisions taken in its name.
The subtle dance of light and shadow framed Seraphine's form at the bow. Every line carved by suffering, every scar on her worn face, spoke the story of the storms that had ravaged them—both actual and of the spirit.
Today, she experienced the weight of those recollections as a real presence. "This is the moment," she said softly, her voice barely above the calm lapping of the waves, "when we have to face the reality of who we have become and the cost we have to pay to shape our future."
