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Bound for Sea [Perma-Shelf]


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The Adalia, Harren’s ship, named after his wife.



The news had struck him right into his core. His wife’s passing had come out of nowhere. They had known each other since they were about five or six, the two had practically grown up together. He recalled that it was during the War of the Lifstala that they had met, during the first Haeseni Lifstala. That was nearly fourty years by now. They were childhood sweethearts, together since he was eight, and she had moved to Vidaus when he was nine. They married when he was nineteen, and had been together ever since. They had six children, Harren, Adalia, Joren, Filip, Analiesa, and Owyn.


And in an instant, it seemed like all of that was gone. She was no longer with them. The physicians had been unable to tell the course of death beyond that she had a heart attack. Yet, it was as if the entire reasoning of his existence had been pulled away from beneath him. This was the purest grief that he had ever known. His mother had died, his father had died, and he had mourned them both. But the way he would mourn Adalia would be much different than that of his parents.


He had once dreamed of sailing the seas of the world, discovering new continents or lost civilizations, any matter of things, really. He wanted to see all that the world had for him to see, and while he had lost his love, he had gained something new, a new sense of freedom to pursue this dream of his. He hastily wrote letters of resignation, addressed to High Pontiff Everard VI, his nephew, and Aulic Envoy Feodor May.


Then he said his goodbyes to his children, before he set off towards the coast, and there she stood, the winds blowing in her sails. The Adalia, the ship that all the money he had ever earned were invested into. She had waited for him, and the crew greeted him jovially, for they too, had waited to set sail for many years now.


And so was Harren bound for sea, to discover the edge of the world and all that lay beyond it.

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Joren Ruthern glanced about the empty halls of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska's Ambassador House in Oren with a careful eye. His eyes darted quickly past the family portraits, the un-natural amount of busts, and even all the recollections of his father entirely. He opened up a drawer, pocketed any loose change and left. That was all he needed from his father.

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