The date is April 3rd, of the year of our Lord 1740. I’m writing to you, my dear brothers, Caleb, Seth, and Tobias, on this 150th day of my voyage. I have spent so much time missing you and wishing that we could be together again and go hunting. I so wish this, but I live by my choice. I did not know that the Quiberon would sail for the new world when I slipped aboard, but I made my choice. I get to see the New World, and in time, I may just decide to stay here. Who knows? You have spent so many years teaching me all there is to know about the seas and the New World, and you haven’t disappointed. Unfortunately, my brothers, my treatment as has been less than stellar. I know I shouldn’t be complaining, seeing how different my life is now, as a landsmen on shipboard, from when I was home with Father and Mother, living the life of an aristocrat. It took the crew two hours to find me, and now I have so little respect on this ship that everybody except the ship’s captain calls me Poppy. They all know I’m a boy, and yet they call me that. In addition, I’m made to swab the decks day and night and aid the Master-Plumber. But, despite all my misfortunes, I have no regrets, and seeing the New World is worth all that I’ve experienced, even the feminine nickname.

When we make port in Savannah, I’ll mail my letter and pray to the Lord it reaches you. I miss you all you, my brothers. I hope someday we all make port in the same city and we can laugh over a pint of beer. Until then, Gabriel.

I looked over my letter one more time before placing it in my journal and hiding it within my pillow. 150 days ago, I snuck on board the Quiberon with only the raggy clothes I found in a less than desirable place and a journal, a pencil, and knife. Within hours, I was discovered and tested to see if I was a Blessed. When I failed, Captain Hill took my knife, said ”Welcome to the Royal Navy,” and put me to work swabbing the decks. Perhaps if I was a Blessed, my life on this bloody ship would have been a bit better, but I wasn’t going to complain.

“Poppy, get your bloody ass on deck!” the lieutenant yelled.

“Yes, sir!” I yelled back, jumping out of my hammock. Running up the stairs onto the deck, I headed to my usual spot where I would spend the day swabbing the deck until I was ordered to aid anybody else if needed. Captain Holmes Hill intercepted me.

“Hello, Landsman Smith. A fine morning to spend in one’s hammock,” he said, clearly aware of how I spent what little free time I had. Of course, he always knew; he had a Blessed look in on all his crew from time to time.

“Yes, sir,” I replied with the respect due to the Captain.

“Good. I want you on forewatch in the crow’s nest,” Captain Hill ordered. This was… unusual. Very unusual indeed, as I was never allowed on it. It wasn’t among my duties. I was always ordered by the crew to do the most disgusting work onboard the ship, so being ordered to the crow’s nest for the forewatch, by the captain, no less, was unusual, but now that I had a quick moment to think it over, rather relieving. When I was first discovered right after we left England, I was tested to see if I had a power worthy of his and the other Blessed on the ship. Since I didn’t have one, I was put to work and ignored by the captain until this very day. At least now he’d started to notice me.

“Yes sir,” I finally said. “I won’t fail you.”

Captain Hill nodded, “Wonderful.” He started to walk away, towards the stern, before looking over his shoulder at me. “Oh, and once Seaman Kirk relieves you of the watch, come to my quarters immediately; there is something we must discuss.” A lieutenant pulled the captain’s attention away from me after that and I was free to climb up the riggings to the crow’s nest to begin my watch. This was the first time that I’d done this, so I wanted to get it right and do the best I could.

Reaching the nest, I reveled in the view that the height afforded me. The ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the breeze felt perfect. This felt wonderful. No wonder Kirk loved doing this. It was just ocean, but Lord, was it was beautiful. One could get lost up here.

A few hours later, after doing nothing but watching the horizon, taking in the sight, I noticed a very tiny dot on the horizon off the starboard side. It was so tiny, it could’ve been a bug flying in front my face. But suddenly, I was overcome with a feeling of uneasiness. It was an itch that I couldn’t scratch. I might have been the only one in my family without a Blessing, but this feeling had been an old friend for as long as I could remember. Grabbing the spyglass, I peered towards the direction of the dot. Even with the spyglass, I could barely make out anything at all. Then, as quickly as the dot and the unscratchable itch had appeared, they were gone.

“Damn it,” I muttered in frustration, placing the spyglass down. As I tried to figure out what I’d seen, I heard the sound of someone climbing the riggings. Kirk appeared over the edge.

“What did you see, Poppy?” he asked me with a slight smile as if he was still finding the nickname Poppy funny.

“I thought I saw something over the horizon, but it’s gone now.” I looked back towards where I’d seen the dot, but it still hadn’t reappeared.

Kirk looked over towards to where I’d seen the dot as well. “I don’t see anything. I also didn’t see anything a few moments ago, and neither did the other three who are on watch duty.” I could dismiss it, but the feeling that came along with it, the unscratchable itch, made me feel like it was real and the only plausible thing it could be was a ship, perhaps a French or Spanish, or even a pirate ship. There was no land for miles where the Quiberon currently was. “Also, Master George would like to have a word with you.”

Just my luck. I quickly slipped around Kirk, as we were both rather small, at least, compared to the giants onboard the Quiberon, climbed down the riggings and wormed my way past all the sailors to the helm, where Sailing Master George was talking to the helmsman and a few Royal Marines. “Ah, it’s Poppy.”

“You wanted to talk to me, Sir?” I stood at attention.

Master George looked up from his conversation with Helmsman Jacobs and the Royal Marines, who all had Blessings, ‘Ah, yes. I noticed you were looking off the starboard side, Northeast. What exactly were you looking at?”

So first Kirk, now Master George. “Maybe a ship. I tried getting better look, but it was gone before I could make it out.”

Master George studied me for a second. “Major Charles, did you see anything?” Charles, one of the Royal Marines, was a Spyscope Blessed. His abilities allowed him to see anything, no matter how far away. It also made the Watch unnecessary, but Captain Hill still ordered the crew to do it.

Charles looked at me. The fellow never had any respect for me, and as a matter of fact, he was the one who’d come up with the nickname Poppy. “No, Sailing Master. There is nothing over the horizon.”

Master George smiled. “You see, Landsman Smith, you didn’t see anything. It seems that the Watch is not a job suited for you. Now, dismissed.” I slowly walked away from them in total confusion. I didn’t even understand the purpose of Master George speaking to me. Of course ships could sometimes pop up on the horizon. This was a shipping lane rather close to Port Royal compared to other locations we had sailed to. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unusual to see another ship. Of course, the unscratchable itch was concerning, but other than that, Master George and Major Charles’ actions were unnecessary.

Unwilling to face them again, I ran to the captain’s quarters as quickly as possible and entered as quietly as possible, after knocking on the door and receiving permission to come in. Captain Hill was sitting at a table looking over a map with Lieutenant Graves. “Ah, yes, Jonah Smith. Please, take a seat.” He pointed to the chair that was positioned on the end of the table.

I did as I was told. “Captain, what do you request of me?”

Captain Hill reached under the map and pulled out a sealed envelope. “You have had the most interesting voyage, Gabriel Baldwin.”

My heart skipped a beat. He knew... how did he know? How the bloody hell did he know? “Uh… uh… uh....”

“At a loss for words? Good. You see, Gabriel, your father is not as short-sighted as you believe, seeing how he is second in command of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. He figured out what you were doing the second you ran away, at the age of fifteen, no less. Since we had already set sail by the time the dispatch arrived at the docks, your father had a ship prepared and sent after us to order you back home. We were fortunate to have a Blessed deliver the orders personally from Port Royal.”

Sagging in sudden low spirits at being discovered, I lowered my head, too ashamed to look at the captain.

“What I can’t understand, though, is why. You had almost everything. You belong to one of the richest and most powerful families in all of England, yet you chose to leave it all behind.”

I looked up at the captain, suddenly finding a bit of bravado. “Almost everything.”

The captain’s face never wavered. “Yes, so unfortunate. I know a bit about your family and I know that every member, you brothers, your father, and your mother all possess Blessings, except for you. In fact, if I remember correctly, you are the only one in several generations of that family to not have a Blessing.”

“And that is why I hated everything about my life. All my brothers had lives predestined because their Blessings, but look at me -- just some wash-up boy who couldn’t be a man, no matter what position of power his father was in.”

The captain just stared at me, his mouth fumbling with thought. “You are a strange boy. You have everything given to you, yet you throw it all away to be a landsman, the lowest rank in the Royal Navy.”

“Think about it, Captain. In my life, a Blessing determines everything. Without a Blessing, a man can be something, but never something great. That’s how it been since the days of William the Conqueror. Because of him, I never stand equal to my entire family. I have better things to do with my life than stand in the shadows of the Blessed,” I replied truthfully. I did not have the greatest regards for the Blessed.

I was born, the youngest of five brothers, without a Blessing. All my older brothers had Blessings, as did my father and mother. In fact, in my family line, every member has had a Blessing. It didn’t matter how powerful the Blessing was, a Blessing was a Blessing regardless. After I was born, although it became clear to everybody that I was no Blessed, my family refused to acknowledge that. As long as I could remember, I was trained in every art possible. I was given more schooling than my older brothers, but no matter what they did, no Blessing emerged. Even praying before the Lord in the Westminster Abbey did nothing. Aside from feeling that unscratchable itch and feeling a little sick during my practice duels with my brothers, nothing. Eventually, my family accepted that I was a curse on their name and hid me from the rest of society and the military, as if I had stained their family name and reputation. I was truly the black sheep.

The captain looked at me, then at his lieutenant, then back at me, “Interesting. Very Interesting. Still, that doesn’t change the fact I have new orders to get you back home. We are turning around and heading back to Port Royal. Once there, I will ensure that you are on the first ship back to England. I will leave it to you to explain to the entire crew this evening why we are returning to Port Royal.” I started to protest this, but the captain interrupted me. “You lied to the crew. You have been lying to them since the beginning of this voyage. You lied to me, to this crew, and to God. You will make amends by telling everybody who you are and why you stowed away on my ship.”

I wanted to protest more, but he was still my captain. He was still the commanding officer of this ship, my commanding officer. I had been taught all my life to respect the chain of command. So I stopped protesting, accepted my punishment, and said, “Yes Sir,” acknowledging that I accepted his order.

“Good. Now resume your duties until I call you before the crew. Dismissed.” The captain waved me off. I quickly departed the captain’s quarters and emerged back onto the deck. When I’d gone below deck, everybody was going about their daily duties required of their rank and role onboard the Quiberon, but now they were all fixated on the horizon east of the ship. The distance was taken over by a misty fog.

“When did that start?” I asked Samuel. He was another landsman, but unlike me, he had a Blessing. He happened to also be the only friend I had onboard this ship, even though he called me Poppy like everybody else except the captain.

Samuel looked over at me, his hands still holding onto the bucket needed to swab the deck. “Don’t know. I was looking off to starboard and one moment, there was nothing. The next, there it was.”

I glanced back towards the fog and noticed that it was getting closer and had a ghostly color to it. And there was something more. A feeling, an itch, the same itch I’d gotten when I saw the ship in the distance when I was on forewatch and whenever I was around my brothers or parents. Only this time, absolute dread overcame me and filled my entire body, a feeling I could only describe as death. I felt like I was going to die, and yet I was standing perfectly fine onboard a perfectly good ship. Even more, I felt a cold that froze my body with solid ice. Everything slowed as I stared at the fog as it came closer and closer to the Quiberon. Everybody watched it with a mild curiosity, clearly oblivious to the dread I felt. I knew one thing that they didn’t, that we needed to turn around and put as much distance between the ship and the fog as possible.

“We need to turn around,” I yelled, coming to my senses and snapping out my trance of absolute dread, fear, and ice. “We need to turn around NOW!” I screamed louder, catching everybody’s attention, but no one moved. They just watched me. “We need to turn the ship around now. Something is in that fog!” Master George just laughed at me, as did most of the other crew.

“Look at that. Poppy is finally getting some balls on him,” Master George joked along with several of the Royal Marines.

The joke was too much. I respected the chain of command, but the fear and ice cold that I felt was overpowering. Finally snapping, I did what any reasonable sailor would do in this situation, I mutinied. Pushing Samuel out of the way, I made a mad dash to the helm in order to take control of the ship long enough to move it away from the fog. The odds against me were long, but frankly, the fog scared me more. I didn’t get very far as I was tackled to the deck by several of the Royal Marines. Stunned, I was forced on my knees with two Royal Marines flanking me, holding me down against the deck.

“You know, I knew you were an idiot, Poppy, but to attempt a mutiny, now that is just devil’s work. You shame us, Poppy.”

“You’ve got to listen to me. We can’t go into that fog. We need to turn around right now!” I was beginning to panic. The dread was getting stronger.

“And why would I listen to a landsman who just attempted to commit mutiny?” Master George mocked, and slapped me across the face. I barely felt it.

“We need to turn AROUND….”

My demand was immediately silenced by the overwhelming presence of Captain Hill. “Gabriel Baldwin, what do you think you are doing?” the captain demanded, revealing my true name to the entire crew. I guess that my attempted mutiny had changed his mind. He walked right up to my face and knelt down to face me at eye level. “I said, what are you doing, Gabriel?”

I heard whispers among the crew, no doubt surprised that I was the son of their commanding admiral. “I’m trying to turn the ship around,” I finally replied.

Captain Hill’s expression never changed. He simply studied me. “Why?” he finally asked.

I glanced over at Master George, then back over to the fog, which had gotten closer. No doubt Captain Hill had noticed the fog, but he didn’t seem concerned about it. “That fog. There something terrible wrong with it,” I warned the Captain.

The captain glared at me, then turned to Major Charles. “Major, do you see anything in the fog?”

Major Charles studied the fog for a few minutes, looking in every direction that the fog occupied. Once he finished, he smirked at me. “No sir, there is nothing in the fog. It’s just normal fog.”

The captain seemed to be satisfied with his trusted Blessed. “Gabriel, there is nothing out there. The sea is playing tricks, making a fool of you.” Captain Hill stood up and begun to walk away from me.

“Captain, you have to listen to me. There is something very wrong about that fog. I feel like I’m dying; the closer we get to it, the worse I feel. Please, we need to turn away from that fog now.” I begged.

That got Captain Hill to stop in his tracks. He wiped back around, “You feel like you’re dying?” he asked. I nodded yes. “Tell me what you feel right now.”

“Um… I feel an unscratchable itch, ice cold, a sense of absolute dread, and ike I’m dying all rolled up in one, yet I’m perfectly well at the same time. All of this tells me that something isn’t right about that fog.” I told the captain everything that had caused me to attempt a brief mutiny.

Captain Hill’s face, always so sure and so proud, was now full of uncertainty and a bit of fear. His silence was enough to spook the crew as well. He glanced over to his lieutenant, who showed the same uncertainty and fear, then back to me. He struggled to find words. “Gabriel, have you felt like that when you were around your brothers and on this ship?”

That question was not what I was expecting, “Sir, most of the time, it’s just an unscratchable itch and bit of uneasiness, but yes. I even felt it when I spotted that ship on the horizon.”

Captain Hill stepped back, his face now fully enveloped with fear. I had never seen Captain Hill like this. In all likelihood, no one had. “Bloody hell,” he finally croaked loud enough that the entire crew heard him. There were some whispers. Most of the crew shared my surprise; even Master George was concerned. “Bloody hell… no wonder you were able to sneak aboard and lie. You’re a bloody Sensitive!” Captain Hill screamed, “Helmsman, hard to port!”

“Hard to port,” the helmsman repeated, turning the wheel. We all felt the ship lurch as it quickly turned west from the fog.

“Captain?” Master George attempted to hold himself steady as the ship turned, but Captain Hill ignored him.

“All hands, man your stations. Prepare for imminent battle.” The crew, despite what had happened, immediately jumped up and followed the order. “You two, let Gabriel go and man your posts,” he ordered, pointed at me. They obeyed, dropping me to the deck. “Gabriel, get your ass up and get into position.”

I had no idea what was going on. All my life, I’d known I didn’t possess any Blessings, but suddenly my feelings spurred the captain to prepare for battle? And what had he called me... He’d said I was a Sensitive. One of my lessons had enumerated all the recorded Blessings and I was forced to memorize all of them. A Blessing called a Sensitive was not one of them.

“Captain, why are you trusting Poppy’s feelings when Major Charles stated the obvious that there nothing in the fog?” I heard Master George ask the Captain.

“I trust a Sensitive over a Spyscope Blessed,” I heard the Captain reply.

Master George seemed confused. “What is a bloody Sensitive?” I wondered that too.

Captain Hill sighed, “I don’t have time to explain. Just know that Gabriel is one of them, and if he is afraid of that fog, the rest of us should be as well. Now, man your station, Sailor!” Master George raced off, heading below deck. I quickly moved about, unsure what I was supposed to do. “Gabriel!” the captain called.

I jogged over to him, avoiding the commotion of the sailors preparing for whatever battle was coming. “Yes, Captain?”

His lieutenant came running over to him with two things, “Here, you may need this.” He handed me my knife, the one taken from me when I was first caught. “And this.” Captain Holmes Hill handed me not a pistol, not a musket, but a broadsword. It felt very heavy at first, but mere moments later, it felt like it had grown light enough that I would wield it. The hilt looked like it was carved from the finest material available in all of the world. Taking the sword, I pulled it from its scabbard, studying the blade. While the sword looked ancient, the blade showed no sign of wear or damage. It seemed to be made of the finest metal of Earth. This was blade fit only for a king, not a ship captain and certainly, not a landsman.

“Uh… why are you giving this to me?” I asked with uncertainty after studying the sword.

Captain Hill, despite everything, gave me the tiniest smile, “You’re going to need it far more any of us.”

“Captain!” I heard Kirk yell. We both looked up at the man in the nest. “The fog, it’s catching up to us. Certainly it’s the work of a Blessed!”

As I looked back across the stern, in the chaos of everything that had happened, the fog had closed the distance in mere moments. Once on the horizon, it was almost at the stern.

“Bollocks,” Captain Hill cursed. “All crew, prepare for impact.” The crew immediately stopped what they were doing and braced against anything they could grab. The fog reached the stern in a binding sweep and as fast it it appeared, it overtook the Quiberon, entrapping everybody in its snares. For a brief moment, no one moved. The fog wasn’t that thick. I could still make out Kirk in the crow’s nest. Then, one sailor dropped to the deck, coughing uncontrollably. Then another and another. Soon, every sailor, including me and Captain Hill, had collapsed, unable to move, feeling so weak, and coughing, overtaken by something in the fog.

The dread was at its strongest now, but whatever was in that fog had taken hold of my lungs. I felt it spread across my entire body, like ice flowing through a half-frozen river. As quickly as it came, it vanished from my body and I could move again. I steaded myself on the sword, regaining my senses and my strength. While I had recovered rather quickly, Captain Hill was still sprawled over the deck.

I moved over the deck of the ship, finding everybody still ensnared by the fog. Even the Major Charles and the rest of the Blessed Royal Marines had fallen to the Fog. Their glassy eyes stared at me, but there was nothing they could do. At that moment, a brief moment, the deathly cold touch that had enveloped me since the fog had first appeared, vanished. Time stopped and I stared out into the abyss of the seas. From the fog emerged what I saw earlier, a ghostly ship, ready to attack.