Journey begin

The dawn that followed the King’s command was not one of celebration—but of quiet resolve.

The harbors of the Blue Valley Kingdom stirred before the sun had fully risen. Mist clung low over the waters, wrapping the ships in a pale, ghostlike veil, as if the sea itself hesitated to reveal what lay ahead. Massive wooden vessels, built for endurance rather than comfort, stood anchored and ready—each one carrying not just supplies, but the fragile hope of an entire kingdom.

Men moved in silence.

There were no songs. No loud farewells.

Only the soft sounds of ropes tightening, footsteps against damp wood, and the distant cry of seabirds echoing over the water.

This was not a journey of pride.

It was a journey of necessity.

At the center of it all stood the Head Astrologer, his aged figure wrapped in deep blue robes that mirrored the sky he had spent his life studying. In his hands, he held a parchment unlike any other—not drawn with ink alone, but marked with symbols, star alignments, and celestial paths that shifted under the light.

To others, it looked like chaos.

To him—

It was destiny, written across the heavens.

He lifted his gaze toward the fading stars, barely visible in the growing light of dawn.

“Guide us,” he murmured, not as a command, but as a plea.

Behind him, the chosen travelers gathered. Warriors, navigators, scholars, and servants—each selected not only for skill, but for loyalty. They had been told little of the true purpose of their mission. Only that they were to cross unknown seas, find a distant land, and secure an alliance that would shape the future of Blue Valley.

But whispers had already begun.

“A child… they say we’re searching for a child…”

“Across the seas? For what reason?”

“No one knows. And that is what frightens me.”

Fear was present—but so was faith.

Because the Queen herself had entrusted them with this task.

And that alone was enough for many.

At the highest balcony of the palace, the Queen watched in silence.

Her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed the storm within.

Beside her stood the King, his posture firm, his face unreadable.

“Once they leave,” he said quietly, “there is no certainty they will return.”

“I know,” she replied.

“And if this prophecy is wrong…”

She turned to him then.

“It is not the prophecy I trust,” she said softly. “It is what we have become.”

The King frowned slightly.

“Our people are fading,” she continued. “Not from weakness—but from something we cannot fight with swords or strategy. If there is even the smallest chance that this journey can change that… then we must take it.”

He looked out at the ships, now preparing to depart.

“And if this child… refuses us?”

The Queen’s gaze softened.

“Then we will accept it.”

That answer surprised him.

“You would risk everything… for something you cannot control?”

She met his eyes.

“We already are.”

The first horn sounded.

Low.

Deep.

It rolled across the harbor like distant thunder.

The ships began to move.

Slowly at first—then steadily, cutting through the mist as the waters parted beneath them. The sails unfurled, catching the early winds, pulling them forward into the unknown.

From the shore, families watched.

Some with pride.

Some with fear.

Some with tears they refused to show.

And as the last ship drifted beyond sight—

A strange stillness settled over the land.

As if something had just begun… that could not be undone.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks into uncertainty.

The sea was not kind.

Waves rose without warning, crashing against the ships with a force that tested both wood and will. The winds shifted unpredictably, sometimes guiding them forward, other times pushing them off course as if mocking their purpose.

Many fell ill.

Some lost hope.

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