Bound to sea

By the time dawn stretched its fingers across the horizon, Blake and his captains were well away from the jagged silhouette of the island that had served as their base of operations. The sails billowed under a brisk morning wind, and the fleet cut through the waves like predators on the hunt that came victorious. The island faded behind them, little more than a smudge on the pale horizon, the memory of their presence already drifting into history.

Blake leaned against the rail of his flagship, his sharp eyes scanning the endless expanse of blue. His face betrayed no regret at leaving the island behind; the decision had been made the moment the fires from last night's attack had painted the skies crimson. The time for bold strikes had passed. Lingering in those waters was no longer daring—it was suicidal.