The waves swirled with fresh intent just as the sun had barely peaked over the horizon. Following the great collision with Orion, the Sea King, the Horizon's Call was battered but determined, her timbers straining under the weight of residual magic and wounds of ancient wrath.
Early light of day found Seraphine standing at the prow, the Coral Crown still resting on her brow—a sign of a power claimed, a legacy both inherited and agonizingly won. She would recover not only the power of the Crown but also her identity, created among the never-ending conflict between fate and sacrifice today.
The fresh morning air carried the salinity of a sea still to forget the turmoil of the previous evening. The ship passed across seas glistening with a delicate hope, as though every drop promised rebirth following the storm.
