<i>1610 A.D., The Atlantic Ocean</i><br/><br/>A thick, jagged bolt of lightning cut through the darkness, lacerating its belly. The sky weeped, torrential rain slamming down toward the young, ripe earth below.<br/><br/>"Heave!" An older man cried out. His hands clutched to a splintering wheel.<br/><br/>The ship maneuvered through the dark, serrated surface of the ocean. It's hull creaked and groaned and the waves effortlessly threw it back and forth, volleying the massive ship as if it were some game. Calloused fingers clutched the wheel of the ship, staining to keep the bitch of a boat steady. Captain Ahab helmed the ship, his crew worked the deck, falling in line and preforming duties which would keep the old vessel a float. He'd made it across once already. The first voyage had set sail two months prior. Some fifty souls on board and only two of them were lost to the depths along the way. One had been a small boy, he caught the flew and never recovered. The other was a young woman. It had been storming, much like the night he'd currently found himself enjoying. The rocking and swaying of the vessel had caused her such a trouble that she hurled herself over the edge. Some said she had been overheard spouting off some gibberish about avoiding a worse fate. Ahab couldn't think of a fate much worse than death by water. It was a slow one. Not only would the process of suffocation start, but the pressure - as you sunk down- would increase, slowly but surely until it eventually cracked ribs and collapsed ones chest. The poor lass probably suffered leaps and bounds more than she needed to.<br/><br/>He cut the wheel hard to the right, trying to over correct in a attempt to slice through the black wave he saw in the ominously approaching in the distance. All of his hands were on the deck of the ship, bloodied fingers pulling at ropes that pulled back against their grips, small fibers cutting through flesh and reaping blood. Their cried and hollering were booking up by  continuous strikes of lighting. What hands weren't on deck were seen hanging over the side of the ship, spilling the contents of their stomach into the raging water below. "Keep on it, you fucks!" The Captain yelled. He was a weathered man. A wiry grey and white beard framed his gaunt face. His mouth drooped to one side, the eye did too, leaving a permanent scowl plastered onto his old, wrinkly face. The water was a worthy adversary, but he'd conquered the cunt many a time before, and he knew that this time would be no different.<br/><br/>Below the deck, water seeped in through the cracks in the ships deck. It pooled at the very bottom of the boat, rotting the wood, lime green algae collecting in spots that that been neglected. There was a group of men down there, buckets in hand, scooping up pails of water and dumping them overboard. Had they not been there, the ship would have eventually taken on enough water to pull them down into the clutches of the sea. Every able-bodied man was down there, bent over, backs burning from the repetition as they worked strenuously to keep the ship above water. Brenn found himself down there. He was little older than a boy at the young, ripe age of twenty. This had been the most terrifying thing he had had to endure. He stood at the bottom of the ship, knee deep in water that couldn't have been but a degree or two above freezing. His teeth chattered as he thrust his pail into the rising water. Once full, he passed it on down the assembly line where it would end up back in the vast Atlantic. An empty pail was thrust into his chest and he coughed as water somehow crept its way into his nose. "Fill it you cunt, or we all go down!" Some random sailor called out to him. He obliged without acknowledgement and continued.<br/><br/>Brenn was a man of average height. He stood head and shoulders above his younger sister, although she was only younger by a few minutes. He had broad shoulders and a slim physique, with pounds of muscle packed on in all the right places. He also had a rigid jaw and a pronounced jaw that holstered a vibrant pair of light green eyes. His hair was black as pitch and kept short and close to his face. Strings of it clung to his forehead as the water washed and splashed this way and that. His lean arms were struggling to keep up with the workload but he was focused on contributing just as much as the next man. It wasn't only his life that he was fighting for, but the entire ship of people and more importantly, his sister. She was the most important of them all and he would sooner rather die than to let harm come to her. To relent would mean to die and that was a fate he wasn't quite ready for yet, so he stayed vigilant and filled up the pails as fast as they were handed to him.<br/><br/>Eventually, the rain lightened up and they gained more ground, literally. Soon they had cleared out most of the water and some of them were released to go back up to top deck. Brenn grasped at the opportunity and left the stench-filled hull of the ship. He climbed the creaky staircase and stepped out into the cool breeze of the night. It's chill was harsh on his lungs at first, causing him to cough and hock up a bundle of mucous lodged back there. He spit it over the side of the ship and clutched tight onto the railing. When he lifted his head, the slight flicker of flame could be seen through the darkness. He watched it, even as the sea lifted and pulled the ship whichever way it wanted. The light seemed warm and comforting. He wanted it, yearned to feel it's heat. Brenn was lost in his thoughts, he barely heard the captain wail into the night.<br/><br/>"Land ho!" He said and it was the sweetest sound Brenn could remember heading since setting sail from England.<br/><br/>They dropped anchor a few hundred yards out and skidded to the dock. As the dock got closer, Brenn could see the silhouettes of men. The closer they got, the more in focus they became. A wave of relief washed over Brenn as he realized they had arrived. The boat docked and a bridge was laid out to connect ship to port. Men boarded and began hoisting barrels onto their backs. They grunted and gritted their teeth as they hauled the goods that were sent over. Been stood where he was, chest heaving in and out at an accelerated pace. "Aphra," he said quietly to himself. The women had been kept in a 'safe' part of the ship during the storm. They hadn't been expected to help out with the duties and Brenn was appreciative of that. He wanted her safety more than anything else. Keeping her away from the hurt was the best thing for her.<br/><br/>He pushed off of the deck and started towards the cabins. He would need to let her know that they had arrived. They almost hadn't but the steel wheel of the men below had ensured their safe arrival. On the way over, he heard a few men talking. Two were from the dock and one was from the ship. He couldn't quite make out what the voices we saying, but they sounded hurried and a little frantic. Brenn disregarded it for the moment and continued on his way. Had he been paying attention, he might have been better prepared for what would happen in the future.<br/><br/>Halfway to the cabins he felt his heart begin to slow. It thumped, painfully hard in his chest. He brought a hand up to clutch at it, but the pain would not relent. The world around him felt as if it were closing in on his person. He breathed deeply and nearly fell over, but his left hand caught onto a hunk of wood to steady himself. He began to panic, nothing like this had even happened to him before. The peripherals of his vision began to fade and blend in with the black background of reality. He blinked once and then twice, yet it persisted. Soon his world was changed. It was real, but different. He found himself in the middle of a burning village that he'd never seen before. There was the sound of women screaming and men crying out for help. He heard the gnashing of teeth and the sound of some grotesque guttural growling. Brenn lifted his hand and reached out as if to touch something. Perhaps he was trying to feel for reality, his reality; or trying to cling to a sense of safety that just wasn't there. The world cracked slightly and then burst, a blinding light focused hard on his face, causing him to raise his forearm to shield himself from it. When his arm fell back to his side, he was back on the ship. Everything was as it had once been and he shook his head in bewilderment. Brenn had never experienced anything like that before and it left him frightened and all the more desperate to find his sister.<br/><br/>He made his way across the deck of the ship and burst through the door to her quarters. "Aphra! Are you okay?" He called out. "We're here! We've finally made it to the new world." He very sight of her was enough to put his troubled mind at ease. He smiled warmly, forgetting all about his 'vision' for the moment. "We're home," he finally said and reared out a hand, beckoning her to take it. "Come look."