Kura's Journal
I fear this is our last day at sea. Port is nearly 4 days away, but the sea has a different path for us. The ship has held through the wickedest of storms, a true testament to my husband’s artisanship. Cracks of breaking waves keep us awake when lassitude would otherwise take hold. My runes hold steady against the onslaught of magic. I try to impose unto Latir that magic has begun to infest the water and that it toils against us, but he refuses to lose hope. We’ve seen currents with more intensity than a waterfall with no reason to be there. I was never the captain my father wanted, but my magical prowess may be our saving grace. He used to say “Your runes won’t hold against the power of Dainlin, my son. Wasted talents in this world.” He was so stuck in his ways…
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