Malysseus, Captain of the Royal Malignance, sat on the docks within the outskirts of Maripolos. The city, of course, was the capital city of the Kingdom. He gazed deeply upon his precious ship, not the one he usually captained, but a newly licensed ship named Opportunity. He anointed it himself. He bought it himself.
He began his second favorite pre-sailing ritual on those docks as he pulled a small cigar case from his jacket. Retrieving a cigar and match, he lit the cigar without the match, calling instead upon the Fire magic singing inside his mana reservoirs. He covered the process with his hands as if trying to block the wind, maintaining secrecy. His smoking ritual was, as often was the case, rudely interrupted by someone.
“This is a foolish plan,” Selira, Chief Advisor to the King, chastised. “You’re unlikely to come back from this. Seventy voyages, seventy captains, and seventy missing ships. No one ever comes back. You’re a fool.”
