The Storm and Her Captain

It was the fifteenth day of our voyage that Second Mate Matiss sighted land where no land should be. The weather had turned, the clouds were seething, and all of us were prepared for a difficult time of it until the storm passed us by. The waters we were sailing were known for their sudden, unpredictable rages, so none of us were green enough to assume it'd be plain sailing all the way back home. All the same, it had looked to be clear and pleasant when we rose from our bunks that morning, so it was disappointing to see our luck hadn't lasted.

Navigator Robson had always been an extremely reliable man to have on board, and we'd yet to see the day he'd guided us off course. Some of the lads used to joke about him having magic in his veins, scrying our journey from port to port and claiming it was all down to his solid training and clear head. I couldn't comment either way, myself, save that I trusted Robson with all the lives on the Windhammer and so did the Captain.

Which was why it was so surprising that Matiss reported what he did. He'd been scouring the sky to the north of us for a trace of blue with his spyglass when he made out what he was adamant was a line of dark cliffs not ten miles away. I wrested the glass from him to confirm what he was seeing and though it took me a little while to make them out myself, I can only report that I saw a distant shadow above the angry rolling of the sea.

"What in the world?" I murmured to myself, steadying the glass to try and get a clearer image of what exactly I was looking at, but the Windhammer crested a sudden wave and I had to grab onto the railing to save myself from tumbling to the deck. When I next lifted the glass to my eye, all I saw was the sea.

"That was land, sure as anything," Matiss insisted. I kept my face deadpan. Sure, we'd both seen something, there was no denying that, but land, out here? Impossible. These were open waters on any map, and it wasn't like this was the first time we'd made the journey.

"It couldn't be land," I assured him. "There just isn't any."

"Then what?" he asked me, genuine confusion on his face.

"Perhaps we imagined it," I suggested, though I didn't believe that myself for one second.

Before we could comment further on what we'd seen, the sky erupted with a tumultuous crashing, cold white lightning forking through the air like the trident of a sea god. Instinctively we ducked, and a burst of wind whipped my hat from my head and cast it over the side. I swore, belatedly clutching my balding scalp, and Matiss chuckled – I silenced him with a stony glare.

"It's getting heavier!" a voice cried from behind us, and I turned, standing to attention as the Captain approached.

"It is indeed sir," I agreed. "Were we anywhere near shelter, I'd suggest dropping anchor and waiting it out, but..." I gestured vaguely at the uninterrupted waters.

"What about what we saw?" Matiss couldn't stop himself from saying, and I grimaced as the Captain raised an eyebrow at the lad.

"What you saw?" the old, dark-skinned sailor asked.

"Land, sir. About ten miles to the north-"

"We're not certain it was land," I cut in quickly. "We both saw... something, but we were mistaken, I'm sure."

"I'll be the judge of that," the Captain said, and held out a hand for the spyglass, which I gave him.

Another wave rocked the ship, spray licking up over the side and mingling with the rain. Matiss and I had to steady ourselves again, but the Captain seemed unfazed by the lurching of the deck.

"Anything?" I asked after a long moment.

The Captain lowered the spyglass and looked at me, and those deep, dark eyes held a fear I hadn't seen in the old man in all the years I'd sailed under him.