The ship continued its slow journey, gliding gracefully over the sea, a deep, almost unreal shade of violet. We had now been sailing for two hours, and silence reigned absolute among the crew. No shouts, no whispers—barely the soft rustling of ropes caressed by the breeze. Yet, an odd sensation hung in the air, a nearly palpable heaviness that chilled even the most seasoned sailors to the bone.
Marco, a sturdy sailor used to long voyages, broke the oppressive silence as he leaned against the railing. He frowned, eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Hey... isn't it strange that there aren't any seagulls out there?" he asked in a low voice, as if afraid to disturb something.
His crewmate, the young sailor Shin—still full of enthusiasm, though already marked by the hardships of the trade—rubbed his chin, intrigued.
"You're right," he said. "We've been sailing for a while now without seeing or hearing anything in the sky. Luckily, the waters are calm. Imagine if we had to reach Sakuraggio in the middle of a storm..."
Marco nodded gravely.
"Y-you're right," he muttered.
A nervous smile stretched across Shin's face as he added:
"Well, we could've ended up like the Megizor."
Marco swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the wood beneath his hands.
"Stop. That's just a tale to scare young sailors," he said, trying to convince himself.
But Shin, still smiling, replied with a mysterious air:
"Yeah, but they often say legends are based on real events."
He leaned against the railing, his gaze lost in the endless blue.
"About 500 years ago, long before the unification of the Ednia islands, a ship left the province we now call Lucenzhou, bound for the Katakiel Empire. The ship, named Megizor, was a majestic three-masted vessel, known for its perilous voyages. As it neared the Ednian coast, a storm broke out suddenly, unleashing torrents of rain and howling winds. The weather was so violent the ship was tossed around, unable to approach land, as if it were being pulled backward."
"Like it was drawn by some mysterious force," Marco murmured.
"Exactly. Several witnesses at the port at the time claimed to have seen the ship vanish into a strange fog, a sort of opaque veil over the sea. When the storm cleared, there was no trace of wreckage. No bodies."
The two sailors fell silent again, the quiet even heavier than before.
"Since then, that unexplained disappearance has been known as 'The Megizor.' A legend was born among sailors," Shin went on, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"They say that if you get lost at sea, you might hear the cries of the Megizor's crew, their cursed souls doomed to wander the oceans, never finding rest."
As they traded this tale, a loud, authoritative voice suddenly rang out.
"Enough of this nonsense!"
Everyone turned toward the man who had interrupted. He wore an admiral's uniform, a bright red hat atop his head—a symbol of high rank. His stern gaze swept across the crew.
"We're on a mission for Ednia, not on a ghost story scavenger hunt."
Marco and Shin quickly bowed in respect to their superior.
Before they could answer, two figures rushed toward them the two start kneeling before their faces filled with respect and a hint of unease.
"Commander Smith," shin said in a trembling voice.
Commander Smith, a rugged man with features weathered by years at sea, raised a stern eyebrow.
"How dare you speak so lightly in front of His Majesty?"
The commander's gaze turned to me, as I had just stepped onto the deck, drawn by the commotion.
"Majesty, forgive their misconduct," Smith said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Marco quickly added:
"I too beg your pardon, Majesty. It was just a moment's lapse."
I raised my hand to signal that it wasn't necessary.
"No need to apologize. I understand that the sea and its mysteries fuel many superstitions. But our duty is to stay the course."
Commander Smith resumed, his tone firm:
"Soon, we'll catch sight of the island. I expect every one of you to stay sharp. Check your stations, inspect the gear, and prepare for anything."
"Yes, Commander!" the two sailors replied as they stood up swiftly.
Smith cast one last glance over the crew.
"What are you waiting for? Back to your posts! Stop staring into the void with those vacant looks. We have a mission, and there's no room for doubt!"
The order was followed with discipline. The ship seemed to come alive again under the renewed sense of authority.
I took my place near the helm, watching the horizon where the mist had begun to thicken, distorting the silhouette of the approaching islands. The violet of the sea seemed to deepen, as if the water itself carried some ancient secret.
Minutes passed slowly, marked by the commander's orders and the sailors' working songs.
Suddenly, in the distance, a vague shape emerged from the fog. A jagged peak gradually appeared, rising sharply from the ocean. The island of Sakuraggio was approaching.
Tension rose among the crew. Some still whispered legends, while others focused on their tasks.
"Majesty," said Halnor—the captain with the faded blue hat—as he approached.
"The winds remain favorable. We should be able to dock before nightfall."
I nodded.
"Very well. Make sure everyone stays alert. I want a full inspection of all quarters, especially the cargo hold. We don't know what awaits us on this island."
Halnor nodded and quickly moved off, efficiently coordinating the preparations.
The ship drew closer still, the coast revealing itself gradually—steep cliffs covered in dense, dark vegetation. The sand looked almost black under the fading light.
The sea, eerily calm, barely moved. An almost supernatural silence enveloped the scene.
I stood still for a moment, my gaze lost in this wild landscape, wondering what enigmas Sakuraggio held—and what forces would soon reveal themselves to us.