We hoist our sails for Britain tomorrow, and not a day too soon. We have been harbored far too long in Lost Hope Bay, and I have begun to see why these waters have earned their name. A man's spirit dwindles here. Perhaps that is why the streets of this town overflow with the poor and the homeless. The Town of Sacrifice, they call Minoc, and rightly so.

But I should not complain. Over a dozen folk have booked passage on my frigate, the Ararat, and all are eager to reach Britain by the summer's solstice—the beginning of the Great Council and its festivities. They are mostly nondescript folk, save for the reclusive wizard, Sutek, who spends most of his nights studying the skies. 'Tis an honor to ferry a mage as young and respected as he.

I am eager to arrive in Britain as well. Even with the repairs from the Ararat's encounter with the sea serpent, I was able to save enough gold to purchase the ring that I will give Faulina. I can imagine the night when I will propose. She and I on the bow of this ship. The ring in my palm. I on my knee. The moons of the summer solstice igniting the stars above us.