…
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Amelia! Are you awake?"
Amelia yawns as she rises from her bed: a young blonde girl, heir of the Sinclair family. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, she was awake but dreaming, wanting to wrap herself in the blanket and sleep. The morning light barely pierced through the heavy curtains, doing little to awake her from her slumber.
"Yes, Dad! I'm awake as much as I can be."
"Well, I hope you haven't forgotten about where we are heading today."
Edward Sinclair, Amelia's father, was standing outside Amelia's room in dark, formal attire, waiting for his drowsy daughter. His voice, usually warm, held a hint of impatience that morning.
Amelia groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around her, "Yeah yeah, I know, but let me sleep for a little longer."
"Do you realise what time it is, Sleepy-head?"
"I don't know, maybe 7 in the morning?"
"I can't help but feel pity for you, Amelia," Edward replied, his voice softened, expressing concern for his silly daughter.
"It's nine already, you little piece of pillow." His voice raised, showing a certain type of frustration, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Auaghh! You don't have to scream, Dad. I'm awake," Amelia replied, slightly startled by the sudden change in Edward's tone.
"I'll get dressed in just a moment. Don't betray me, alright." Amelia jumped out of the bed, her sleepiness fading and urgency invading.
She quickly made her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she stepped out, her mind still a bit incognizant.
Her foot slipped on the wet tile and she tumbled to the floor with a thud.
"Ouch!"
"Don't tell me you just slipped and fell, Amelia," Edward said, while rubbing his forehead, a sigh escaping his lips as he leaned against the doorframe.
"Umm… I sure did." Amelia mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across her face.
After getting dressed, Amelia rushed outside where Edward stood with a classic angry face, forcing a smile unreal. "Shall we go now, milady?"
Amelia just nodded with a gentle smile on her face.
Edward, with his 'Wanderer' pathway as a Sequence-7 Ascendant, just opened a small rupture. Like ripping paper, the air shimmered, twisting open. He stepped through, Amelia right behind him. One moment, home. The next, gone.
They landed smack in the middle of Port Stryk. Salt hit Amelia's nose right away. Timber, too, fresh and sharp. And some sweet, smoky smell, like burning incense, mixing with the sea air.
The whole place, usually just busy with ships and cargo, was completely different today. It was spotless.
Flags, Croele's crest all over them, snapped proudly from every mast and every building. The dockyards, usually a place for grime and hard work, were meticulously decorated, sparkling under the morning sun.
A huge crowd was already there, pushing and shoving a little, but everyone seemed excited. Their murmurs made a low hum, a buzzing noise that kept getting louder. Amelia felt the energy in the air.
The bright midday sun glared, reflecting off the calm water in the harbor, making her squint.
Even with all the noise, she could still feel a bit sleepy, but the sheer size of the crowd and the smell of the sea was starting to wake her up for real.
Right in front of a giant dry dock, there it was. A huge warship. New. Brand new. Its steel hull shone almost blindingly, reflecting the sunlight. Cannons, big ones, were already mounted, sticking out, looking mean and ready. It just looked powerful. This was the showpiece, no doubt. The reason for all this fuss.
Edward nudged Amelia through the people. He moved like he owned the place, a polite but firm wave of his hand parting the crowd.
Amelia stuck close, trying not to get lost in the sea of faces. They finally got to a raised platform, covered in deep red velvet.
On it, surrounded by naval bigwigs in their crisp uniforms and government officials looking very serious, stood King Louis Croele VIII himself. He looked regal, a real King.
All medals and fancy naval clothes, gleaming under the sun. He was here for the ceremony, for this brand-new warship. Amelia had never been this close to the King before. He radiated a kind of quiet power, even from a distance.
Then, things got quiet. Really quiet. The chatter of the crowd just died.
The King stepped up. He held a golden bottle, fancy-looking, shimmering in his hand. His voice boomed, carrying every word across the entire port.
"Good citizens of Croele! Brave sailors of our glorious Navy! Dignitaries and friends!" the King's voice rang out, strong and clear.
"Today, we gather at our beloved Port Stryk, not just to witness, but to celebrate a new chapter in our kingdom's strength! For generations, our seas have been our lifeblood, our defense, and our highway to prosperity. And as threats evolve, so too must our protectors!"
He gestured grandly towards the massive warship, a proud smile on his face.
"This magnificent vessel before us represents the pinnacle of Croelean ingenuity, the shield that will safeguard our shores and our trade routes. It is a testament to the hard work of countless hands, the vision of brilliant minds, and the unwavering spirit of our people!"
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, his gaze sweeping over the silent, expectant crowd. Amelia felt a little shiver run down her spine.
"By the grace of the Eternal Sun, and in honor of this great bastion of our maritime strength, I name this vessel..."
"...The Stryk!"
He swung the bottle down with a mighty motion.
Smash! A sharp, satisfying crack echoed as it hit the ship's bow, sending a spray of liquid, champagne.
Across the shining steel. A huge, roaring cheer went up from the crowd, a wave of sound. Bells across the port rang out, a joyous clang.
Then, boom! Distant cannons roared in salute, echoing over the water.
The new warship, a massive symbol of Croele power, now shared the very name of the port that had given it life. Amelia just stood there, taking it all in, suddenly wide awake. This was a day to remember.