Blogtober 2022 Day Two entry
The fog didn’t lift until afternoon, and after Eila ordered the sails unfurled, they hung limp and useless on the becalmed ocean. The sky was still overcast, and by twilight, she realized they had no stars with which to find their location.
The evening meal was eaten in silence, the long faces of her crew communicating their doubts about Eila’s leadership. She had chosen her first mate and several officers from her previous service, but most of the Beaumaris’ crew hadn’t met her until her first day on the bridge.
Each ship in Llanfyllin’s fleet posted a magician; the man who served the Beaumaris was Wynn, a young man only a few years past his apprenticeship, this posting his first aboard a ship. He approached Eila on the bridge after the meal.
“Captain Ellesmere,” he said. “We need to talk.”
“It’s only been five days, Wynn,” she said. “The crew can’t be considering mutiny so soon.”
“I’m not here to confront you, Captain,” Wynn said, “but we have a serious problem.”
“It’s only bad weather,” she replied. “Can’t you conjure a bit of wind to get us moving?”
“I could, but it would hardly move us before my resources were exhausted.”
“Yes, I know,” she said. “What’s your concern?”
“Take a look at this.”
He held out a compass on his open palm. The needle floated from W to E, then spun three times and landed on S.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“A magical force is nearby.”
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