So he saw. Despite the drops hindering more than anything, the moonlight allowed for a clear view when he squinted: up ahead, a few leagues away, a figure rose. The titan was colossal. At that distance, its size didn't come close to the largest mountain Captain had ever seen in his life. The old man could only see that the gray woman seemed to stare directly into his eyes and point in his direction. His mind went blank, no thoughts had the courage to emerge. He couldn't feel the drops trickling down his face and no longer heard the waves crashing against the hull of his ship. Only in his chest, he felt faint beats, as if signaling that his end had come. He didn't think about the women of the south, didn't think about rum, didn't think about anything. He just stood there, waiting for that titan to crush him.
"We are not alone," Crooked Finger whispered softly in his ear. Captain stood in awe, observing the woman, while his sailor trembled and sobbed, afraid to lift his eyes towards the titan.
The Lord Curious was such a small ship that only a dozen people traveled with the Captain when he needed to transport sacks of food. The vessel lacked the structure of a warship; its walls were made of raw wood, weak, heavily weathered and worn by the waves. The Crown War had been the only conflict to engulf Pangea. Years ago, the struggle for the throne had caused men to fight amongst themselves like never before. The expenses on weapons, ships, and armor had devastated the continent, which at that time was limited to a well-distributed community in the northern lands. The Lord Curious was like a cockroach in front of warships. Captain took care not to be crushed when crossing the waters of the Royal Port, where the guerrilla ships still occupied the waters. But that journey from north to south in a straight line only required the essentials from the crew: enough food to satisfy them for as long as they could. Eventually, if their reserves were running low and they hadn't found the southern lands, they would turn back, carrying the weight of failure on their shoulders. That's why they left almost all their weapons in Ard Taj; they were in no condition to engage in conflict.
"We need to turn around," the captain said at last. The old man ran to the bow of the ship, the higher front part where he usually gave orders to the crew. "Men, listen to me, we need to organize ourselves to make a U-turn," but the message was silenced amidst all the noise. The lack of success in getting his colleagues' attention weighed on the captain's eyes, which fell upon a musket hidden under a small wooden plank. The old man picked up the weapon, realizing that it was already perfectly prepared, gunpowder and bullet in their proper places. With the help of one of the lanterns surrounding him, he lit the fuse and pointed it upwards, away from the ship's sails, hoping that the thin cord of his gun would not extinguish while the storm raged upon their vessel.
The shot had the intended effect. The flash and the roar made it clear to the crew where they should look. They all stood as petrified as the titan that seemed ready to attack them. Unsure of what to say, the captain took a breath.
"Men, we are not in a position to attack, nor to defend against an attack. The gunpowder we have wouldn't even be enough to kill ourselves. We need to take the oars, assume the helm, and pray that the woman is not pointing at us. We need to return to our King and tell him what we have endured tonight," the words came out of nowhere but seemed to be the right thing to say.
The crew exchanged glances, then a nod of agreement emerged from the men. They all began to move into their positions, some setting aside their belongings to grab oars and secure ropes, others started gathering the shards of glass from the floor, and some stowed away the remaining clutter that had been scattered in the commotion. In a matter of seconds, the captain had taken the helm and started turning the ship around, but the night was far from over. As the Curious Lord was halfway through the turn, with the right side of the ship facing the statue, the gray woman's eyes began to glow. The light exploded as if a lantern had shattered in a barrel of gunpowder. From the woman's eyes, a brilliant wave that resembled wind crossed the entire space between the vessel and the shore, hitting the crew. The ship rocked, men were thrown into the sea, the captain tried to hold onto the helm, but the gust of wind was too strong, the world spun, and the old man felt his head collide with the wooden floor. When he opened his eyes, the sky was clear. The captain stood up and instinctively looked back, along the path that the gust had followed. What he saw was breathtaking. Wherever that wave of wind passed, the darkened sky was bathed in yellow, as if the sun itself were sailing on the ocean. The crew was still trying to get up when a deafening noise struck the ship. The captain had to cover his ears with his hands at that exact moment, yet it seemed like the sound had not diminished at all. His instinct was to jump into the water, but then he looked up at the sky and saw...