Captain’s Log of India Milina Tyde
By William A. Thorn
Captain’s Log, Meridius, 6-1427
(Translated from Aamanau, a minor language in the Scattered Isles)
“O, Fortuna, like the moon, you are mutable, ever waxing, ever waning.”
It has been but a day, and already this journey weighs upon my sanity. Felix’s comrades, these Knights of the Silver Order, are quite capable. Yesterday, we ran across the interdiction line around Hauther and were met by an interdictor ship. As we prepared for battle in case we couldn’t outrun it, one of the knights, a dark skinned elf, summoned the most fearsome beast of any in the thirteen seas, a kraken. Such a feat is only in fables, yet he accomplished that and then commanded it, setting the monstrous creature upon the interdictor as if it were but a dog. Without so much as a shot, we were free of peril.
As I recount it today, I count myself lucky to not have fallen out of favor with these knights, especially since they have a choleric and brooding manner about them. However, a dark and unholy air surrounds them, and I feel it has disturbed the crew and is causing my nightly restlessness. Oh, Felix, what manner of demonic cult have you fallen prey to? The longer we are in their presence, the more my dreams are filled with disturbing and dark thoughts, and in my waking hours, I can still hear the voices and demands as whispers in my ears. It’s maddening, and the further we encroach upon Hauther, the more I sense the shore…calling me. No, not the shore…something ashore… I cannot
(The log entry breaks mid sentence and is followed by unintelligible marks as if a pen were striking the paper erratically before continuing in distressed lettering and curved lines of text.)
They will not listen—I told him to leave I told them to leave—I told him to leave me alone. I wanted to strike at him wanted gut him. I don’t understand why. The whispering won’t stop. Didn’t listen, but wanted to. Why does it call me why does he call me—I wanted to—I had to break the spell—break the spell. Felt his lips. Kept from losing myself.
(The log entry breaks again, and then for the next three pages, the log is filled edge to binder with variations of the following.)
I am the master of this ship I am the master of my fate I am the master I am the ship I am the master of this fate I am the master I shall not waiver I am the master I shall not falter I am the master of this ship I am the master of my fate…