*Scrape!*

With my knife, I etched another mark into the wall. I eyed the wall, the numbers scratched on it, and grew in impatience. It had been two weeks since the ship set out from the harbor. How long must I wait to get to Corone? My mission! I have a mission! How long?

The wall cruelly taunted me. The wooden beams, scratched from my knife, grew longer and longer. Should this ship go any slower, it would take a century to get to my first target!

I shook my head. This would not stand? I would march straight to the bridge to hand the captain a personal complaint. Did he not know my master was waiting?

Oh, master, do not be disappointed in me. My master. I shall complete your task.

I stood up. My dark dress did little to protect from the cold. Dumb ash clouds could make June feel like January. I sighed, smoothing out the pathetic garment. Grasping the lantern which lit my tiny room, I opened the door.

The door cracked open with an ached creak. The hallway under deck was long, flooded with supplies and cargo of trade. Yet, of all the possessions here, I was the most valuable. I carried a mission upon my shoulders. Yes, the mission to top all missions! I was the vessel of my master, carrying his desires like a beast of burden. He wished for me to collect information. I would give my life to do so.

I walked through the hall, towards the steps that led up to the deck. The floorboards moaned as I lightly stepped up. The steps held my weight well as I opened the iron hinge of the door. I opened it, immediately feeling the cool, Salty spray of sea water.

The light! It blinded me for a moment! Ha! How splendid! I now knew the pain of blinding sun in the eyes. Yay!

The stepped onto the deck, leather shoes pounding, as I adjusted to the light. We were in a rare break of the ash clouds which coated the sky in an early winter. The rays of sunlight were a welcome change. For the first time in, well, ever, I felt warm. I felt a smile creep along my face. It felt so good! Yes, I took great joy in the sun's return from hiding.

The crew worked hardily at manning the sails and swabbing the deck. I offered a salute as I jogged up the deck, towards the steps that led to the bridge. The man at the wheel paid no attention to me as I smoothed my dress one more time, then stepped in.