1 Prologue
I found myself mysteriously standing at the deck of a wooden ship, the sea stretched out before me, a wide expanse of unknown.
I tried to remember as to why I am here, but everything seems to be so hazy and I could get no answer from it, no matter how hard I try.
The sudden roaring thunder in the sky quickly caught my attention, I look up and saw the sky as it raged with storm clouds, their intense ashen hues spiraling ominously.
Suddenly, a powerful impact hit me, a wind surged uncontrollably, pushing me down with force. I struggled to keep my balance against such force.
The heavy rain then fell upon me, each droplet of rainwater a weighty reminder of the storm's force, I could also sense the briny tang in the air, the unmistakable taste of salt carried on the wind.
Then voices, a lot of them, I turn towards the noise and I saw chaos, men frantically running around as they tried to keep the ship stable under the intense storm assault.
And then I saw him, amidst the chaos, a figure stood out in the crowd of crew members, a man whose presence seemed to emanate strength and determination, there was also a certain glow from him, a glow I couldn't seem to describe nor put any words on it.
He was at the helm, hands firmly gripping at the wheel, guiding the ship through the violent waters. His eyes were locked on the horizon, fixated and determined.
His voice carried over the raging wind, guiding and leading his crew with a commanding tone, crew members rushed to secure lines, adjust sails, and battle the raging elements. The vessel creaked and rocked as it navigated the dangerous waves.
Rainwater soaked the man's clothing, yet he stood firm, steering his vessel through the jaws of danger with skill and resilience.
Then he suddenly turned his head and our eyes met, and just like that, everything seems to fade, leaving me in the darkness.
I was suddenly jostled awake by the beeping sound of my alarm clock at the side of my bed, its piercing noise adding to the bricks of annoyance building up inside of me.
And then, I remembered that scene, what was that?
A dream?
But everything seems so real, it was like I was actually there in the ship... with the man.
Yes I remember, that man; who was he?.
It seems it's going to be a question that would be left unanswered for a while.
My eyes then widen as I also remember something.
Oh right.. it's Monday, it's already common knowledge what Monday always entails; the start of the weeks classes, no wonder Monday's my most hatest and feared day.
Luckily, the alarm clock was within arm's reach and I was able to end the noise this morning monstrosity was producing with a swift tap of mine.
As silence shroud my entire room, I blankly stare at the ceiling above, the sleep inertia inside of me seemingly overcoming my will to get out of the bed, though my brain is already shouting at me the consequences of my actions were I still to continue to do nothing.
With a sigh, I finally sat up, giving me a full view of the interior of my room.
The room is moderate in size, not too small or large, a typical space for an average family. It includes a computer desk, wardrobe, drawers, and a table. Posters and picture frames also adorn the walls.
As average as it seems, my opinion seems to think otherwise.
We have frequent financial struggles and a significant debt, yet despite this, my family managed to maintain stability and ensure my education remained decent.
A smile slowly formed on my lips.
I couldn't have asked for more...
With a deep breath, I began to make my way towards the door leading to the bathroom.
Best to wash myself up before heading outside.
I entered the room and confronted my reflection. My tousled black hair hinted at just-woken state. Dark eyes were still adjusting, a mole above my lip adding character. My skin had a healthy glow, and my average height came with a comfortable presence. My face, while not strikingly handsome, was ordinary yet not unattractive.
I grinned, a dimple appearing as I do. Yeah, that's me in the mirror. Just another morning, just another look.
I stepped into the shower without delay, swiftly cleansing myself for the day. In just 5 minutes, I emerged refreshed and ready.
With a positive outlook, I'm back in my bedroom, in front of the wardrobe, ready to choose my outfit for the day.
Considering various outfits, I focused on a cozy red sweater, combined with black pants and white sneakers for a comfortable yet stylish look. I arranged these choices on the bed, I'm quite satisfied with the ensemble; red sweater, black pants, white sneakers, and a gray backpack.
After putting them on, I make my way to another door that leads outside my bedroom. Twisting the knob, I pull the door open and step outside.
Adorning our home's walls are picture frames narrating our family's generations of service, with gleaming ancestral medals symbolizing valor. One ancestor, a survivor of shipwreck turned revolutionary, stands out. His major rank and bravery marked pivotal battles. I've once questioned my parents about his origin, yet uncertainty lingers in their vague responses.
'Father said he was some sort of a traveler.' I remembered my dad saying once.
"Father said he was some sort of a traveler." I repeated, his voice echoing in my mind like a cherished refrain.
The memory of my father's stories about our ancestral lineage brings a bittersweet smile. His tales, passed down through generations, have molded my perception of our family's legacy. These narratives are intertwined with my longing to know more about our mysterious origins.
Amidst reminiscing, a poignant memory resurfaced; the day news of irrevocable change arrived at our door. The weight of tragedy blanketed our home, the air thick with sorrow. My mother held a letter bearing authority's seal, its message delivering the unwanted. Approaching her, I saw pain in her eyes; loss of a partner, unbearable news.
She turned to me, anguish evident. I reached for the letter, its eloquent words unable to soften the blow. "In memory of your father," it began, my fingers trembling. Anger and disbelief filled me. My father, source of stories and wisdom, couldn't be gone.
Trembling, I crumpled the paper. My mother's embrace offered slight solace. Clinging, we united in shared grief.
I swiftly pushed the unwelcome memories aside, a determined effort to fend off the torrent of emotions threatening to spill over. The weight of sadness and grief pressed upon my chest like an unyielding anvil on a soft paper.
Not now...
Across generations, my ancestors joined warrior ranks, engaging in Indian, Cherokee, Mexican, Spanish-American, and Philippine-American Wars. Legacy persisted in World Wars, earning medals like Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts. Their valor echoes through our home, a testament to their courage on European and Pacific battlefields.
As I passed through the hallway, the scent of a delicious breakfast reached my nose, pulling me towards the inviting warmth of the kitchen. There, my mother was at the stove, tending to the morning meal.
Can't wait to eat breakfast.
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CHAPTER DONE!!
