CH1093 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1093: To the New World

“Twin Dragon Island hasn’t been this alive in years.”

Thunder said it quietly, more to himself than to Margaret, watching the dock from the Snow Wind’s bridge. Below, thousands of people moved through the noise and press of departure — sailors shouting, vendors shouting back, the rhythmic slap of cargo being handed from dock to hold, and beneath all of it the voice of the tide against the hull. From the height of the bridge, they looked like a pattern: purposeful, inevitable, a river that had found its direction.

The far side of the harbor was a forest of masts. Banners from Crescent Moon Bay, Sunset Island, Shallow Water Town — every major Chamber of Commerce in the Fjords had sent ships, and the flags were moving in the early wind like something alive. Like they were already eager.

The last time Thunder had seen a fleet assemble at this scale was when he was twenty-two, when all the Chambers had gathered to push into Shadow Waters. Most of those men hadn’t come back. Some of the others had come back wrong.

“Not just Twin Dragon Island,” Margaret said. She stood beside him at the rail, her voice carrying the particular warmth of someone reporting good news they’re quietly pleased about. “The whole Fjords. A route that used to be the least profitable has become the most popular one. The new generation won’t have to pay the same price for the title.”

Thunder let that sit.

She was talking about the route to Festive Harbor. When Roland Wimbledon’s offer had spread through the islands — find something interesting at the Endless Cape, claim a reward; discover something of real significance, and the King of Graycastle himself will name you Honorary Lifetime Explorer — it had worked on Fjords people the way fire works on dry tinder. The title of Explorer was the highest thing the Fjords offered: more real than any coin, more permanent than any contract. Dying for it had always been part of the cost. The King of Graycastle had altered the arithmetic.

He’d opened the route. Built the city at its terminus. Made the thing survivable. And for anyone who still wanted to push beyond the surviv able parts, the ancient ruins scattered across the Endless Cape held the promise of something larger — a connection to Three Gods, Roland had hinted, for anyone with the vision to look.

The Fjords took their faith in the Three Gods seriously. More seriously, Thunder suspected, than the Graycastle king had anticipated.

A few skeptical voices had asked aloud whether it was sensible to trust a continental king this deeply. Those voices had been drowned out by the merchants who’d already made fortunes on Chaos Drinks and Neverwinter perfume. The paddle steamers had done the rest — when Fjords crews started sailing them, and saw the gap between what was possible now and what had been possible before, Roland Wimbledon stopped being an abstract name and became something people argued about over dinner.

It had all happened in less than two years.

Thunder turned to Margaret. The words came slowly, the way a man speaks when he’s choosing honesty over performance. “Thank you. For everything. I couldn’t have given this kind of attention to the exploration if you hadn’t managed the Chamber. Business is not my talent. It never was. You’ve carried more of this than you should have had to.”

“You know I chose to carry it,” Margaret said. Her hand found the back of his. “It’s harder to accept gratitude from someone who doesn’t want anything in return than it is to receive it. We’re about to be at sea for months. Let’s not make this complicated.”

“Margaret —”

Their eyes met. She had a way of holding eye contact that was entirely comfortable with silence.

“Besides,” she said, and there was a warmth in the corner of her mouth, “it isn’t exactly true that I want nothing. I do want something. I’m not telling you what it is, but I want you to know I’m up to something. So don’t feel like you owe me.” She winked. “That’s worse.”

Thunder was deciding whether to cover her hand with his when his first mate’s voice cut through from the terrace below.

“Captain! The caravans are waiting for your word!”

He coughed. “Coming!”

“Alrighty!”

He drew a breath. Turned back to Margaret. Something about the moment felt unfinished, though he couldn’t find the word for what he’d meant to do with it. “Time to go.”

“Off you go.” She smiled in the way that said she knew exactly what he’d been about to do. “Do what you’re best at. As His Majesty said.”

“Right.” He turned toward the ladder. “To the new world.”


He descended to the deck and walked the length of the ship to the bow. The crowd below the dock saw him and the sound they made was the particular collective sound of people who have been waiting and are now ready.

Thunder raised his hand. The noise settled.

“The farthest we have been,” he said, “is Shadow Waters. Most of you know what that cost.” He let the silence after that sentence do its work. “That was a single step. There is a Swirling Sea beyond it that no chart has touched. This time, we go past Shadow Waters. We cross the Sealine. We go east, to a land that has no human footprints yet.”

He looked across the mass of upturned faces — sailors and merchants and young men who had grown up hearing the old stories.

“I’ve seen it. In the Shadow Ruins. A continent as vast as the Four Kingdoms — and empty. If it exists where we think it exists, Fjords people will not need to crowd onto these islands any longer, grinding out a living in fear. And it will bring more wealth than everything we have ever made combined.” He paused. “That’s why I want every capable man out here with us.”

The cheer began before he finished the sentence. He waited it out.

“But I want something else beyond gold,” Thunder said, when they quieted again. “I want the Fjords to be written into history. Not as traveling merchants. Not as island people that the continent tolerates at its edges. As discoverers. As the ones who found the new world.” He swept his gaze across the fleet. “When historians write down who opened the way for mankind — I want our names to be in that sentence. Not a footnote. The sentence itself.”

He raised his arm.

“Hoist the sails!”

The crowd below roared. The sound traveled up through the hull and into his feet.

“To the new world — full speed ahead!”

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