From: Sara Haymaker Firstfall To: Haymaker Family Haymaker Farmhouse Brightwood Dated: 06.03.2023 Delivered: 10.03.2023

Hi everyone,

It’s official, ships are awful! They might be the single most stupid thing ever invented.

This was probably the worst week of my life. And even worse, I will have to do it at least once more, to get back on true land. You might think I am kidding, but I am spending at least 10 hours a day on this trip hurling my guts into the ocean.

With about five hours of fitful sleep, that just leaves nine hours for listening to the crew laughing at me. Apparently being the butt of the joke is part of the fare.

At least it is mostly in good fun and the people aboard are a far cry more civilised than the entitled noble brats at the College.

I’ll post this literally the moment I land, so you’ll know I arrived safely. Therefore I can’t really tell you anything about Firstfall, or the island it is on which doesn’t seem to have a name, so people also just call it Firstfall or sometimes Wider Firstfall.

Instead I have riveting tales of rolling seas, bad sexual jokes and mind destroying boredom. If that isn’t interesting for you, I don’t know what is.

I have one story for you though that starts with the captain’s cabin boy and ends with the most riveting woman I have ever met.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

It happened yesterday, the sixth day of our journey, just before sunup.

The poor cabin boy was having a break from racing about doing his chores, when out of nowhere a seagull decided to land on his head. Which is apparently a sign of impending doom, so the crew began to throw things at the hapless child to shoo away the bird.

And of course the boy started jumping about like a madman trying to dodge to the laughter of everyone involved. It seemed quite a cruel way to start the day and a bizarre sight to boot, with the bird clinging on, its claws tangled in the child’s hair and the boy evading ropes and pieces of bread. I was actually just about to step in, when one of the sailors took out a harmonica and started playing. I swear to you, it was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. The woman stood there, slightly swaying in tune with her heavenly music and everything just stopped. Nobody moved for over a minute, as the sounds seemed to embrace all of us in a cocoon of safety and happiness. Then once some time had passed, although I couldn’t for the life of me tell you how much, the seagull cocked its head, regarded the player for a good second, took flight and then flew around the ship three times before finally departing towards the rising sun. Only when the bird had vanished entirely from sight, did the music stop with one last ethereal heavenly tone. Only a heartbeat later, the stillness of the world broke and the crew sprung back into action, collecting thrown items, going back to eating and climbing into the sails.

I myself went to my quarters, too wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings, to do anything else, but I spoke to the musician later in the day. It turns out she is a genuine [Siren]! I spent over six hours with her, talking about her vocation and her unusual path that has led her away from piracy to a peaceful merchant ship, owned by a company that offers 10 golden lions for a confirmed [Siren] kill.

I can’t really tell you everything she shared, but I can tell you that that meeting alone made up for the horror that is ocean travel.

No matter how much I might gripe and complain I still wouldn’t trade this adventure for anything on earth. I want you to know how deeply grateful I am for your love, support and money that enables me to experience this wonderful journey.

With love and gratitude

Sara