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Age of Discovery

Fus ro dah

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Age Of Discovery

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Flynn dragged a hand through his hair before stretching his arms upward, and then out. As much as he loved the sea and sailing, he was getting restless. It had been months, nearly three now and they hadn't yet seen any sign of land. He was sure they'd have to find something sooner rather than later, there was no way the collection of large islands were the only landmasses in the entire world. No doubt his crew were just as restless, it would do them good to be able to drop anchor and spend some time off the ship.


The sky had been clear all morning, but now as evening drew close, it bought along with it dark, heavy looking clouds. They didn't quite seem to be rain clouds, but he had been fooled before and the Captain was not at all interested in being caught off guard by non-threatening clouds again. He strode quickly from the front of the ship along the deck and up to stand beside his first mate who was currently tending the wheel.


"Keep an eye on those clouds, lads." His voice called out loudly, getting the attention of those present on deck. "The last time we saw clouds like that, we ended up in a storm. Passengers, secure all loose items just in case. Better to do it now, than chase them across your cabins later."


Following his own instructions, he slipped down into his quarters and made sure things were secured, especially his ink pot. His favourite shirt had been ruined in the last storm by his oversight of putting the lid back on and putting it away. He sat on the edge of his bed and set a hand atop Cooper's head, stroking his long ears with a smile. "Now, boy, you stay inside. I don't want you to end up overboard." He knew the dog hated being locked in here, but it was safer.


"Captain!" The call came from outside as a fist pounded on his door. "You were right! Storm incoming!"


Flynn hurried from his quarters, shutting the door quickly to stop the canine from following him out on to the deck. The clouds were much darker now, highlighted in brilliant reds and oranges. Lightning forked from the blackest cloud, illuminating the scene brilliantly for a moment, followed by the distant rumble of thunder.


"To your stations! Brace for the storm! Those who don't need to be on deck, get below out of the way!"
 
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MORGAN ALANIA ANAKINS







Patch started the day very nervous and restless, he'd been flying around the ship making the weirdest of noise, the owl wouldn't even eat the fish which Morgan had left for him. The young guard sighed as she stood on deck watching the endless sea spreading further and further.

Morgan never really liked this feeling, she felt as if they were lost, but of course knew better than to believe it.

"The last time we saw clouds like that, we ended up in a storm. Passengers, secure all loose items just in case. Better to do it now, than chase them across your cabins later."

The captain's voice came shouting as he warned them of the incoming storm. Damn it, not again Morgan thought to herself as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and started proceeding downstairs.

The owl's eyes never left Morgan, the bird flew down and landed on her shoulder as the young guard made her way to her cabin.





''Oh calm down you coward it's just a storm" she scolded the frightened owl that now dug his claws into her shirt refusing to leave her shoulder as the young guard collected her books from the desk and dropped them into a box fastening it with some ropes. She made sure her revolver was clean and wrapped it within a cloth before putting it back into the little bag hanging from her waist, she would hate to go through the process of drying it again.

''Now patch, I think it'd be better for both of us if you stayed here'' she spoke to her bird as she tried to remove him from her shoulder. Morgan always spoke as if the owl could understand her, which came a little funny to the other crew members.

Finally succeeding the young guard placed the now terrified bird on the clothes hanger which he claimed as his place , and went back on deck helping the sailors secure the things which were up there.

Morgan was about to go down once more after hearing the captain's orders, but the storm started becoming stronger, one of the sailors holding the rope of a sail faltered and fell letting go, the guard ran to his post and held the rope down for as long as she could till the sailor was up on his feet and helped her pull it down

 
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The young biologist was actually getting used to being out in sea, now that didn't mean he'd actually go to the edges of the ship, but he was now more willing to go on the deck at least. Though he also had to be holding onto something secure, so he didn't go up there often. It was baby steps, which he didn't mind, and he guessed that the others would think similarly. After all, how useful is a drowning scientist anyway? Venn shook the horrific thoughts away, and looked back at his work.


He wasn't that strong or really knew much about ships, thus he was really doing nothing during their ongoing voyage. He did, however, feel some guilt resurfacing again, which only stopped when he reassured himself that he'd be able to help more once they reached land. So until then, he kept himself busy by knitting while simultaneously brainstorming for a hypothesis he could be working on. This would make him mess up, but that was the plan; he didn't want to realize that he was in an ocean, nor that he couldn't really do much in terms of helping the crew. So he would continue with this pattern, again and again, making different things that honestly were just mediocre. On their trip so far, he's made; two mittens that were different in size, a hat that could be worn as a mask, and a sweater with one sleeve. 'Just because it's a hobby doesn't mean you have to be all that great on it.' He thought.


He heard some muffling upstairs, which made him look out his door, and watched the crewmen run down to their quarters. Unsure of what was happening, he grabbed onto one on their shoulders, "What's happening? I'm afraid I was a little too lost in thought to pick up what the captain was saying." Once he got his answer however, he was anything but relieved. Thanking them before closing the door and securing his stuff, 'Honestly, what was I even expecting!' He thought bitterly, cursing the very thing he loved to study. Taking his knitting needles, he held them parallel from his body. 'No need to die before the journey's even begun.'





Now he had experianced a storm with the crew before, and it was a living nightmare to just go through that. This storm was probably not going to be all that different either, so he braced himself on a corner and released a shaky breath. He was not going to panic, no, he was going to die and then panic since he died.
 
Xavi Hernandez Ibarra-Espinoza

The sound of a sudden wretch came from the starboard side of the ship – a sound that had become common to all aboard the past few months – as the archaeologist once again lost his stomach to the sea. Xavi groaned as he wiped his mouth with a reeking rag, spitting out the last of the bile into the sea. At this point he was mostly dry heaving, what little breakfast he had managed to down having come back up a long time ago.


He had been so excited for this expedition, for the adventure, when he had boarded this ship all those months ago and left Wysteria. It hadn’t taken long for him to find out that his stomach did not share the same enthusiasm. Since then he had spent his time either hanging over the edge of the ship or with his head in a bucket down in his quarters. He preferred to be above board where at least he could breathe fresh air and not the putrid stench of his room. Not that the scenery was much better up here, nothing but deep, blue water or sky as far as the eye could see. Xavi groaned again as the deck of the ship rolled under his feet – he couldn’t wait until they finally made land.


A sudden shout took his attention away from his stomach for a moment. He heard one of the shipmates call out that a storm was coming. Great, just what I wanted right now. No doubt he would have to go below deck again and wait out the storm, miserable in his stinking room. Maybe they would let him tie himself to the mast and let the storm scourge the sickness from his body. Who knew, maybe it would cure him of his sea sickness and there was little doubt he could use a strong bathing.


All thoughts of doing just that were immediately put down as Captain Flynn came out on deck barking orders. Xavi sighed and leaned over the railing to wretch once more before resigning himself to his fate. As he made his way to the aft stairs, he passed the blonde woman who he had been informed was one of their guards on the expedition. Morgan he seemed to remember was her name. At first he had been a little skeptical that she could guard them but that was before he had seen her take down one of the sailors who was easily twice her size. He watched as she ran out to take the place of a fallen sailor and wrestle with the rigging. A part of him thought that maybe he could go help her but the sudden lurch of ship reminded him that he would only get in their way. Xavi felt the first drops of rain fall on his face as he descended down in the dark belly of the ship.
 
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Augustus lay asleep in his cabin bed and began to drift to when they had first boarded. He remembered the smell of the lush green lands and the industrialization that went about in the cities. Everything was so different for him now, The young adult was trapped in a large wooden death trap and it made him anxious. The first time August had ever boarded a ship was when they first left on the expedition. He still wasn't used to the constant swaying of the ship that had caused him to lose his meals more than once.


August lay there asleep until a loud crash came from a book shelf in his cabin. He jolted up straight and examined the room to see the immense shaking. Immediately August sprinted over towards his Trunk and plumaged through it. He removed his camera and his extra rolls of film then tucked them into a separate rucksack. He then proceeded to exit the cabin door as he was already dressed.


The ship swayed in both directions as the storm brewed to become more aggressive. August looked through a nearby port hole to see the sea attacking the ship with wave after wave. He held his balance as the ship lurched forward once more all the while holding onto his rucksack. He had come here with a job to do, and wasn't about to let his prized equipment shatter due to a storm. Once the ship leveled itself, August bolted towards the lowest parts of the ship where he would be the safest

 

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"Brace for the storm! Those who don't need to be on deck, get below out of the way!"




Anyone with a genuine respect for nature (or common sense) would understand that, no matter the experience or over zealous calculations, mother nature was unpredictable. Sleeping mountains could relieve oppressed pressure at any moment, or the sky could decide to cast a different kind of weather over the lands that were deemed dry terrain. Especially true to this claim was the ocean, she was an absolute enigma, calm beneath the hull for weeks on end and then, quite suddenly, ravenous for another vessel and all it contains to decorate her sand dusted floor. Rae had always respected that which she couldn't understand, while some mysteries didn't mind inquisitive explorers, her mother always reminded her 'let be that which you cannot explain'. Creating methods of transpiration, whilst convenient, made her scrunch her nose at the foolishness of risk takers, greater was her expressed disdain to those ignorant enough to wade through open waters claiming to know the tide that engulfed them.



Yet here she was (against better judgement) putting her rather specific skills to use, hoping to contribute to a stranger's pursuit with little more aspiration than exploration. Little did she mind the sway of the ship, often you could find her up on the deck, maneuvering around and occasionally offering to do some meager work, just for the experience. Nothing much, mopping or perhaps attempting to securely fasten a rope, occasionally she'd help with meals or attempt to stitch together a sailor's torn apparel - little things that made up for when she insisted to the captain she could not decide their fate against the ocean that day. This was the second unexpected storm - to no fault of her own, she declared - to hit them since they'd started the voyage. Without a wind to follow, or a cloud to observe, Rae could only estimate - which did little to put another at ease. Poking her head out of the corridor just in time to feel the mist of an oncoming rain, she sighed and hugged herself with thin, lightly coated arms. Her naivety to feeling security upon this vessel nullified her aquaphobia, and also kept her from explaining a possibly crucial detail before arrival - she cannot swim. Floating, she could do, but that wasn't really an option when you're bobbing within the sea beneath the wreckage of your former residence. Her medium lips pursed, fingers drawing back stray locks that were tossed up by the wind; the nip in the air sent bumps across her skin, she shivered a little and pulled away from the view of greys colliding with blue.



Within the solitude of her room, the young woman realized there wasn't much for her to do; she'd never unpacked, aside from her warmest blanket and a sketchpad with quills. Rae sought comfort in simplicity, not enough to dwell and become accustomed to her surroundings, but in an attempt to adapt, survive and proceed. That was just sort of her mindset, nothing benevolent considering she'd always want more and never could ground herself, though it was admirable she kept her lips pursed even as the ship rocked back and forth in an unsettling manner. With lashes resting on her cheekbones, she prayed to God that her pessimistic expectations would be only those, and not come to be her future.
Shipwrecked with a group of strangers, I almost find it funny, she mentally sighed, tucking in her knees and resting her head against the railing of her bed.
 
Meghana Fraser





82 days. Or 2 months, 21 days. Regardless of how you say it, it was far too long for Meghana's likening. She had been on the 'adventure of a lifetime' as Dr. Solomon had called it for nearly three months, yet there had been nearly little to no progress. With a slight grimace, she thought back to how she had been persuaded - no, tricked - into joining the expedition. Meghana was not worried about her own abilities, but apparently her dear caretaker, Dr. Solomon, thought she had much more to learn and urged her to go. Really, wasn't he just kicking her out? In the end, she really couldn't go against his better thinking, and here she was.


Meghana leaned on a railing, though not facing the vast, dark ocean. She had already grown tired of scanning the horizon, disappointed each day. Instead, a far better pass time was observing her fellow 'adventure buddies'. A sad bunch, she had initially thought. After 3 months together, her first thought hadn't changed by much.
Give them a break, Meg, you hardly even know them, her inner monologue scolded her, and she shrugged her shoulders slightly. Despite thorough observation and note-taking about each person, this was true, she hadn't made much effort other than fulfilling her role as the ship's medic. And that role had been... Well. Her eyes glanced over to the dark-haired espadion man, thrown over the opposite railing of her, as he emptied his stomach for the millionth time it felt like. Sea sickness. Lucky for her, she was not affected, though she pitied him. Actually, her journal had been full of scribbles on how to ease sea sickness with the herbs she had brought with her. So far, she might have found a way but with some side effects like an upset stomach that would be far worse than throwing up, for both Xavi and the poor toilet. Indeed, she would have to continue working for a different solution.


Meghana's mind drifted back to a faint memory of her first time sailing. A fond though fading memory was suddenly interrupted by a violent wave, crashing into the side of the ship. She grappled the railing hard, surprised, casting a look into the horizon. Dark clouds. Crew members were running around fastening all things possible by the orders of the captain. She briefly watched Flynn, as he confidently strode around ordering everyone to their positions. Disappearing below deck, Meghana thought it to be best to follow suit. Shakingly, she made her way down to her room, trying to keep note of everyone's position. Almost knocking into Morgan, one of the guards, Meg watched as she almost zoomed past her to the rescue of one of the crew mates. Her physical shape was indeed impressive. Once safely inside, it seemed most of her new acquaintances had locked themselves in their own rooms.
Good. Less chance of injury. Working quickly, she took care of all her own stuff and sat on the uncomfortable bunk bed. Her door was left open as always, in case she were needed somewhere.
 
Bryn Artairgwyn

The salt spray reached up into the rigging now, the waves were beginning to swell as the sky took a turn for the worse and the storm began to blow in.
'Perfect weather for sailing,' Bryn thought.


This was not so dissimilar to the sailing ships of his home. though he belonged to the outland tribes of Esta that built their abodes among the branches of the forest's great trees, they still had a rough knowledge of seamanship from their fishing in the nearby ocean bays. Bryn, ever the provider and procurer of food, took every chance he could to sail aboard the vessels, which were not even half as large as the grand schooner they were now embarked on these past three months. But the rigging was close enough that Bryn volunteered for to man it, even amidst the oncoming gale. Even the harshest wind was fresh and lively to him, and a simple harness of rope tied around his waist and lashed to the beams provided both safety and mobility, he had no fear of falling to the deck below, nor any hesitance to swing from one mast to the next to secure a sail or fasten a line. He hated being cramped in the quarters below, it was too stuffy and confined, being up on the mast brought back yearnings for his treetop home, so many leagues away now. He had signed up for this crew to see the world, convinced it was his time to bring himself glory and prestige. Later, he would be the one to sustain their expedition as they ventured into the unknown, the one to keep them alive and fed. But for now, he was simply a sailor, determined to see the ship safely through to their destination.



"All lines secured, Captain!" his musically-accented voice called out from the mizzenmast before wrapping the rope of his harness around the stout trunk and using it as a conveyance to the deck below, landing with a satisfying
thuk directly in front of Captain Flynn. "All sails safely stowed, sir," he said with a small salute. The ship swayed to the side in the waves, a barrel rolling across the deck towards their feet, which Bryn promptly somersaulted over to avoid before kicking it back towards the other side and following close behind to retie it to its proper hold. He knew his actions were overly dramatic and unnecessary, but he felt it liberating to be able to perform his duties with a dash of theatrical flair, as long as no harm was done, what would it cost to display his prowess and cunning? Absolutely nothing. "I think we're prepared for this hurricane, Captain, now we just have to ride it out."





@Fus ro dah
 

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"Thanks Bryn." Flynn nodded to the man and cast his gaze across the deck, his brow furrowed as the storm began to bare down on them. "This looks like one hell of a storm. Everyone below deck, we can get our bearings again once the storm passes. It's all ocean out here, we don't need to worry about dodging land." Once his crew was safely downstairs, Flynn followed them down and found himself a secure place to sit. The wind began to pick up as larger and larger waves smashed against the side of the ship, throwing her around like a mere toy. The wind whipped up and whistled down the stairwell as the storm broke overhead, rain slamming down onto the ship and into the ocean as The Stormy Sea lurched violently, tipping high onto her left side before smashing back down. Thunder roared overhead and the sea water boiled as it was stabbed mercilessly by forks of lightning. A few unsecured crates slid back and forth, crashing into other crates and barrels, Flynn and some of the other crew members rushed back to tie them in place before anything or anyone was hurt. The sky overhead was black as the storm continued to assault the area and would do for several more hours, lasting long into the night. As the storm finally passed, the anchor was dropped to stop them drifting away any further. In the morning, they'd continue but for now, the crew needed rest.


Those who were lighter sleepers, would be awoken by loud cries of "Land, ho!" and the rushing of boots. Flynn quickly scaled the mast up to the Crow's Nest and took the spyglass from the Lookout. Holding it to his eye he could see it on the horizon, land, finally after almost three months at sea. "Good job, everyone! By the look of it, we should reach the shore by midday. Those coming ashore, it's a good time to start getting yourself ready, pack your bags, get your rations and water. We'll be on solid land soon enough!"


Now, with the announcement done he spent some time talking to some of the other crew about what damage the ship took during the storm. Thankfully it was nothing too bad, easily mended once they were anchored.
 
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MORGAN ALANIA ANAKINS




She was still on deck, helping the crew secure the barrels and other stuff while the storm raged ahead, Morgan even helped with the anchor, she was fastening some barrels when the captain said that they should go pack.

After finishing she gave a nod of acknowledgment to the captain then went downstairs yet again.

Morgan changed into some dry clothes and threw a towel over her drenched hair, she decided to keep the wooden box full of books on the ship, she wouldn't have time to read anyways. Sighing the young guard took her two favorite books and shoved them into a bag which contained her ammo and two daggers, she even threw the revolver in there.

Morgan picked her sword from the bunk bed and sheathed it at her waist, she whistled to Patch who now flew from the hanger and stood on her shoulder, then got out of her room and stood scanning the perimeter with her eyes ,waiting for the other expedition members so that she could make sure none were missing​
 
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The scene of his death played in his mind over and over as he continued to rock back and forth. He whimpered as the ship rocked and curled up even tighter when the storm got even worse. By the time he could hear thunder, he was already out of breath from all his panicking. He didn't mind the lightning, and actually found the booming sounds and flashes of electricity to be calming, however that only applied to when he was on land. Now that he was in the world's biggest conductor, he wasn't wether he'd rather die suffocating in the deep waters or getting electrocuted to death. He decided that he would go for neither and just kill himself by biting his tongue if he was desperate enough.


Time went by slowly, and because the large thick clouds covered the moon, he was surrounded in darkness. Normally, he would have lit a candle or just get some kind of light source, feeling restless when he couldn't use his sight, but this was different. For some unknown reason, not being able to see calmed him a bit. So he tried to concentrate on anything but his fear. Listening to the creaks of the ship, massaging his arm with his thumb, or counting until he no longer wanted to. The small activities were tedious enough that his mind wouldn't wonder to the sea but was boring enough that it was actually making him sleepy. And soon enough, the brunette's eyes closed for the final time that night.


Heavy footsteps on the floor board had awoken him from his slumber, "Thank heavens, I actually fell asleep!" Getting up from his uncomfortable position on the floor before stretching and cracking his back.


"Land, Ho!" His whole body froze and his eyes practically snapped open.


'I must be dreaming...' He thought, pinching himself and yelping when felt pain, "Wohoo!" Not caring who heard him, he was just done with his stupid looking hand-knitted clothing and cowering in the fetal position. Quickly gathering a notebook, writing utensils, a scalpel, a few test tubes, and his glasses. He didn't bother taking a microscope because it was a bit too delicate for travel, so he was going to keep anything interesting in the test tubes he had brought. They were also delicate, but weren't as big nor as expensive as the former. Stuffing them in a small bag and slinging it on his shoulder, he headed towards the deck.
 
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Augustus had somehow found a way to ignore the sound of the passing storm. The creaks from the ship seemed to be no louder than mice, along with the lightning that stilled over time. Everything always disappeared whenever he was lost in thought or in this case a book.


August's eyes scanned over the letters in front of him, unable to know what their meaning was. His brain worked however, instead of the gears turning they seemed to be getting jammed as he went over every word. "
Ate.. an.... what?" He asked himself as one particular word seemed to be slowly picking at his brain. His father had never taught him how to read or anything educational for that matter. His life had consisted of stealing horse shoes, or gears from a nearby trading post so why did he need to learn."Not until now.." He thought remembering when he first signed a deal. August purchasing a major factory and didn't know how to or if anything where to sign his name on the purchase document. He shook his head and tried to read the story again,"I've got to be far by now..." He looked at the small bar in the right corner and sounded out the words, "P-a-g-e... one." His brows furrowed as he closed the book in anger.


"Its probably just a hard book or som'in." His eyes gazed at the front cover that said,
Suzie the Cows First Meal accompanying the books title showed a picture of a cow smiling, while eating a full course meal. "A children's novel." August stood from his seat, then walked over to a nearby porthole that he had previously opened due to his stomach and tossed it out into the sea. "...Suzie the cow." he mumbled to himself when a shout came from the upper deck.


"Land-ho!" It echoed down into the cabin area giving August light back into his eyes. He turned back to where he was sitting, picked up his rucksack that held his prized possession, and sprinted upstairs. This couldn't be real, after all that time at sea he
finally had something to take a picture of.

 

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Meghana Fraser





The sounds of hustling and bustling filled the lower decks, as everyone started to move around again. The prospect of finally walking on firm land again had everyone fired up after nearly three months as well as one, long rocky night. Strangely, it was quieter in the room of the doctor, as she was indeed still asleep. You see, Meghana might've looked like the type to be a delicate, light sleeper, always awakening with a princess-stretch, but in reality, it was the opposite. This had been a great concern of hers as her position as a medic truly required her to get up quickly if needed. Luckily, there had been no incidents... yet.



"Doc... Doctor!" A loud shout in her quarters finally awoke the fair maiden, and she drowsily opened her eyes to gaze upon Derrick, one of the crew-mates. Derrick, a cheerful young lad, had gotten himself injured quite a number of times, and after many visits to the doctor, he considered them to almost be friends! Meghana did not really mind him, but appreciated him waking her up whenever needed. He let out a small laugh, as he stood in the doorway. "Doc, we've finally reached land! Everyone is runnin' 'round, you'd better get packin'!" He tipped an imaginary hat to her, before quickly disappearing.



Nodding to herself, she repeated the information in her head.
Right, packing. Land. Running... Oh! Waking up with a lightning, she meticulously prepared everything needed for departure, as she had practiced a few times before. Her backpack soon filled up with her medical equipment, extra bandages, a sowing kit and the likes. Luckily, she had plenty of salves ready, made from the herbs she had brought along. Meghana quickly changed her garments to the freshest ones, she had. Adorning her almost-filled backpack and the most practical outfit, she made the last stop for water and food.


Taking a deep breath, she strapped the straps on her bag tighter, before reporting on deck for
the adventure of a lifetime. Waking up fairly late, Meg was worried, everyone would be waiting. But as she laid her eyes on only a few of the other expedition members, she breathed a sigh of relief, as she made her way over to 'stand and wait' near them.


 
Xavi Hernandez Ibarra-Espinoza

Xavi sat beneath the great oak that sat in the courtyard of the Academy, soaking up the rays of a warm fall sun. A large, leather-bound volume of the Dictatus Imperator lay in his lap, a soft breeze ruffling its pages and his curls. The soft chatter of students and professors could be heard as they went about their business, debating theorems both new and old. If this was not heaven then he didn’t know what was.


“Mi chiquito, it is time to eat.” Xavi’s head was suddenly filled with sweetest voice he knew, a voice that belonged to an angel. He opened his eyes to see his mother laying out a small feast from her basket. On the blanket in front of him were all of his favorites laid out. Paella, empanadas, albondigas, tortilla española, and every type of meat, cheese, and olives he loved. His mouth watered – how long had it been since he had last tasted his mother’s cooking.



“Mamá! I am no longer a little boy!” he protested even as he reached for an empanada. He took a bite and felt his tongue explode at the savory richness of beef and potatoes.



“To me, you will always be my little boy even when your hair is as grey as mine,” teased his mother. “Now eat! I cannot imagine that they feed you well here for you are as thin as a stick!” Xavi needed no further encouragement as he dug in, his book forgotten on the ground.



Once he was done and his stomach was full, he found himself dozing while his head lay in his mother’s lap. She sang to him softly – a lullaby she had sung to him many times before – as she brushed his brown curls with her soft hands.



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‘Duerme ya, dulce bien


Mi capullo de nardo.



Despacito duérmete



Como la abeja en la flor.



Duerme ya, dulce bien



Duerme ya, dulce amor



Dulces sueños tendrás



Al oir mi canción.'









'Sleep now, dear darling,


My bud of tuberose flowers.



Softly go to sleep,



Like the bee on the flower.



Sleep now, dear darling,



Sleep now, sweet love



You’ll have sweet dreams



While hearing my song.'








Xavi could hardly keep his eyes open. The combination of the warm sun, his full stomach, and his mother’s soft voice was the perfect catalyst to put him to sleep.



“It is time to wake up, mi chiquito. Land is in sight.” Xavi’s brow furrowed, what did she mean by that? Weren't they already on land?






“What was that mamá?”


“I ain’t your mamá boy! And I said git up! Land is in sight. Capt’n wants e’ry body up and ready to disembark.” Xavi groaned as he slowly came to – cracking open his eyes to see the back of a sailor slam his door shut. He slowly sat up, wincing as his sour stomach returned, and wiped some bile from the corner of his mouth. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He was not sitting in comfort of the courtyard at the Academy while he ate with his mother. No, he was still in the cabin of the ship where he had finally passed out after hours of retching while the storm raged outside.


It hit him then what the sailor had said. Land! Forgetting his upset stomach, Xavi quickly packed his things – not that he had taken much out due to his illness – and changed into his only clean set of clothes. He attempted to make himself as presentable as possible – which was quite the feat considering the state he was in – and settled for only a tad disheveled.


The sound of gulls greeted him when he finally made his way onto the bright deck. He shielded his eyes, not having seen daylight in days. Birds! That means land is very close by! Sure enough, when he reached the railing, the coast line was clearly visible. They had finally made it to the New World!


He stood on the lower railing, balancing on shaky legs, and shouted. “Bravo! We have made it!”
 

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