North Sea City, Year 7 of the SuaChie calendar.
Now I was heading to North Sea City to anchor the King of Shooters in the port. However, this was not my true destination; my duty called me to Central City, as Young Chuta had summoned me.
My assistant, who was now my first officer, stood firm at the helm, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He, who had witnessed my terror and my talent, respected me deeply. Upon arriving at the port, the usual bustle of the city struck me with its intensity. It was different from the serene silence of the sea. I felt somewhat uncomfortable on solid ground, but the prospect of seeing Chuta filled me with strange energy.
A week later, in Central City.
After arriving in the city, I went to the Command Office, but he was not there. I then looked for him in the Government House with the same result. Finally, I found him at the Royal Academy, surrounded by his advisors, as usual.
"Young Chuta," I greeted him with respect, bowing slightly.
He looked up, a genuine and warm smile illuminating his face.
"Sogeking. You have returned. And with great news, I know. Your expedition has been a resounding success. A true milestone."
Pride swelled in my chest.
"That's right, Young Chuta. We have mapped places much further north of the islands, found new wind routes, and seen lands no one believed possible."
"I don't doubt it," Chuta said, his clear eyes shining. "Your skill is unmatched, Sogeking. That's why I need to talk to you about the West Ocean."
My heart skipped a beat. The West Ocean. The other immensity, the one we had not yet explored.
"The West Ocean? Can we explore it?"
Chuta nodded, his expression turning more serious.
"It's our next great challenge. I know of your desire to conquer it. But the regions on that side of the continent have barely joined the kingdom. Although they have access to the sea, their capacity to build large ships, vessels like the King of Shooters capable of facing that ocean, is still limited. We have been focused on consolidating the East Ocean and the Inland Sea."
A pang of disappointment ran through me. Waiting more?
But Chuta looked at me with an intensity that dispelled my frustration.
"Don't worry, Sogeking. Soon you will be able to explore that ocean. I promise you. But first… there is another journey I need you to make. A crucial one for the future of our kingdom."
Curiosity bit me intensely. Another journey? What could be more important than the West Ocean?
Fear, for a moment, reared its head. But the confidence in Chuta's eyes was contagious. The sea called me, no matter the direction.
A year later, Year 8 of the SuaChie Calendar.
The meeting room of the Command Office was packed.
A year later, Young Chuta, at eight years old, stood before a gigantic map of the East Ocean, flanked by the Navy Generals, Umzye and Nygua.
The air vibrated with anticipation. My heart, as always, beat with a mixture of fear and uncontrollable excitement.
"The time has come," Chuta said, his childish voice resonating with an authority that silenced everyone. "We will explore the East Ocean, beyond what any man of our kingdom has ever imagined."
Nygua, with a sun-weathered face, pointed to a route in the south. "My expedition will depart from here, Young Chuta. The currents are known, and the route has been traveled many times by Captain Sogeking."
Umzye, younger and with a scar on his eyebrow, indicated the north. "We will follow this route, Young Chuta. As agreed in the previous meeting, I will remain in charge of the entire navy, and the colonel of the West Region will lead this route. Furthermore, it will serve him for future West Ocean expeditions."
Then, Chuta placed his small finger on the central route, the most direct to the east. My eyes fixed on it. It was the route we had always avoided; the one previous explorer had discarded due to its complications.
"And the third expedition," Chuta continued, looking directly at me. "It will be led by Captain Sogeking. He will go directly east. It will be the most complicated, the most uncertain route. But I trust in his ability. Each expedition will consist of three large ships, with supplies for half a year if rationed well."
Fear ran down my spine. The direct route. I had heard the stories and participated in some initial exploration voyages. Sections with no wind, treacherous currents. But the idea of being the first of opening that path, ignited a flame in my chest that burned away the fear.
A month later.
The port of North Sea City was a hive of activity.
Nine large ships, with sails unfurled and storerooms full, awaited the signal.
The King of Shooters was my flagship, and beside it, two twin ships, ready for the journey. The Generals wished me luck, their gazes a mixture of respect and a hint of pity for the route I had been assigned.
"Hoist sails! Eastward ho!" I shouted, my voice echoing over the clamor of the port.
The King of Shooters glided into the blue immensity, followed by my two companions. The other six ships would take the same course for the first part of the journey, but then both expeditions would head north and south.
The true adventure had begun.
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The initial month proved to be a test of patience. Endless days of sun, where the wind completely vanished and the sails hung inert. The crew grew impatient.
"Captain, there's no wind! We're adrift!" shouted the second-in-command, a man with Academy knowledge, but lacking the sea's patience.
"Wait. Feel the water. Feel the air," I told them, though my stomach churned inside. My instincts, honed by so much time navigating, now applied to reading the sea. Small changes on the surface, a barely perceptible breeze.
"Northeast bound! Just a bit! There's a faint current there!"
We advanced in a zigzag, sometimes backtracking to find a favorable current. The other captains, with their knowledge from the new naval academies, were skilled, but they lacked that visceral connection with the ocean. I saw the frustration on their faces.
We had survived our first test, but we knew it wouldn't be the only one. And then a storm came. It wasn't a simple downpour. It was a monster of wind and waves that hit us without warning, a deafening roar that swallowed the crew's shouts.
The King of Shooters, which once felt like an extension of my will, became a toy at the mercy of the East Ocean's fury. The waves rose like liquid mountains, crashing against the bow, drenching us with icy water. The ship groaned and creaked, every plank protesting, every mast shrieking under pressure.
Fear invaded me, a chilling terror that paralyzed me for an instant, leaving me breathless. But the desperate cries of my crew, their pale, rain-soaked faces, shook me, bringing me back to reality.
"Secure everything! Cut the torn sail! Keep the helm steady!" My orders blended with the wind's howl, almost inaudible, but the crew, with a discipline forged in fear, moved like shadows in the deep darkness.
I clung to the helm, my feet firm despite the violent pitching of the deck. My eyes, trained to see the pattern of the waves, now scrutinized the maelstrom, searching for weakness in the sea's strength, the exact moment to turn, to resist.
We almost didn't make it. A giant wave lifted us, and for an instant, I only saw the abyss, but the King of Shooters, with a final groan from its wood, stayed afloat.
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After almost two months of that incessant torture of fighting against the ocean's fury and despair, the horizon changed.
A dark line appeared, fainting at first, gradually growing with each wave.
Land!
The word spread like a whisper, then like a shout, and the crew burst into cheers, their voices hoarse from exhaustion. Emotion overwhelmed me, a relief so intense it almost made me fall to my knees on the wet deck. We survived.
We sailed along the coast until we saw the meeting point.
Six ships, with flags like ours, anchored near the shore.
The North and South expeditions had arrived.
On the coast, a provisional port began to take shape, with rustic houses and wooden walls rising like a promise of the future.
A new home, far from the lands we knew, but with the seal of our kingdom.
We stayed for a week, anchored in the bay, resting and sharing stories of the voyage.
The Generals of the North and South looked at us with a mixture of respect and awe. Their expeditions had taken a month and a week, and a month and a half, respectively. My route had been the most complicated; everyone said it was impossible, but even with all the setbacks we suffered, our crew triumphed.
A strange satisfaction filled my chest.
Four ships would stay; they told me.
They would plant the seeds we brought from the Kingdom, improve the discovered territory, and establish the first town in this new land.
After two months, two ships would depart each month back on the northern route, the shortest, while a new expedition with supplies and volunteers would depart from the kingdom each month. It was Chuta's plan, the vision of a kingdom expanding beyond the seas.
I looked at the new settlement, the small houses under the sun, the port that was beginning to grow. It was the promise of a future, a future that I, Sogeking, had helped forge. Fear was no longer a part of me, not after this journey.
Now, every time I look at the horizon, I no longer see the terrifying immensity. I saw a path.
A path that opened into the unknown, and I, Sogeking, had opened it.
3 weeks later.
The King of Shooters cut through the last waves with a smoothness that contrasted with the fury of the storm we had left behind.
North Sea City rose on the horizon, a familiar silhouette that I now perceived with new eyes. The mouth of the Suaza River, my home, opened like an embrace towards the East Ocean, that untamed giant I had just challenged.
The air, previously laden with salt and tempest, now smelled of damp earth, kitchen smoke, and the murmur of port life.
My crew, exhausted but victorious, moved across the deck with a slowness that reflected the harshness of our journey. I clung to the helm, my knuckles white, my eyes fixed on the approaching port.
"Captain," my first officer said, approaching. His face, once tense, now showed a tired smile. "We're back. Safe and sound. No one believed we'd make it by the direct route."
I nodded, my throat dry. "We did it. The King of Shooters is stronger than we thought. And the sea… the sea is an unforgiving master."
I looked out at the blue immensity we were leaving behind. On our outward journey, we had found sections where the wind died, where the sun mercilessly cooked us. We had advanced in a zigzag, sometimes backtracking, searching for invisible currents, moving by pure instinct.
And the storm… the storm had been a true hell. I remembered the constant creaking of the wood, the deafening howl of the wind, the feeling of being an insignificant speck in the gods' fury. My body had trembled, my mind had screamed to give up, but my hands had refused to let go of the helm.
"Are you alright, Captain?" my officer inquired, noticing my silence.
"Yes," I replied, returning to reality. "Just… thinking. Reflecting on how far we've come. And how much more there is to see."
The port grew before us. The voices of the stevedores, the sharp cry of the seagulls, the rhythmic crash of waves against the docks. It was the sound of home, of longed-for safety.
"Captain, do you think Young Chuta will send us east again?" a young sailor asked, his eyes full of wonder.
I smiled, a smile that felt genuine for the first time in weeks.
"I don't know. But if he does… we'll be completely ready."
For a moment, I saw myself, the trembling young fisherman on the Suaza River. And then, I saw myself now, the captain of the King of Shooters, having tamed the imposing East Ocean.
The sea was my destiny. And I felt that I had barely begun to write my story on its vast pages.
North Sea City was a refuge, but my true home, I knew, was in the blue immensity, awaiting my return.
.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
This is the last part of this illustrative perspective. This is my first attempt to show the stress of ocean travel.
Sogeking shows us what this first voyage was like, with all the journeys he had to endure. However, I can't go into more detail because otherwise the chapter would have had another part, but more action at sea will come later.
Unnecessary Fact of the Day: In 1499, Amerigo Vespucci made his first voyage to the New World, exploring the coast of South America and contributing to the understanding that it was a new continent, not Asia. It is in his honor that the American continent is called 'America'.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future.
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis from Visions of Future Saga.
You can find them on my profile.]