Captain Fuyutsuki slumped down onto the deck and closed his eyes against the biting wind, clenching his teeth against the salty water carried on it. He hated this ocean training with all his being. But there was no defying the Emperor - he was the descendent of the Gods, and his will was theirs. He had to remain strong, had to stay in command; his honor depended on it. There was no such thing as losing face with honor, and out here, no land in sight, to lose face would shame his whole crew. He could not, nay, would not allow such a thing. Their honor and their lives rested upon his shoulders, and he would see them back home once more, just like the prior times. He knew that the other fourteen Captains all shared this thought.
They would return home, restock, and venture out again, perhaps a bit farther this time, perhaps not, it was always hard to tell. They were starting to learn though. The gulls knew where fish were, gave away the shifting eddies of the wind. The sun, of course, always went East to West. And at night there would be a star that always stayed still... that lay to the North. They had even developed a basic fire-based signaling system for communication between ships. They were making progress, at least, and that would please the Emperor and perhaps cease the endless questions of the scribes.
Fuyutsuki grimaced as another waved washed over the deck and fell over him. Serving the Emperor still didn't change the fact he hated his job, but at least he would hate it with pride.
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Orders Sent.