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[Deacon Drake]

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He almost shed a tear when he saw the landmass.

Then the thought crossed his mind: I don't have the passion he had. I don't have the emotion he had.

So instead, he gave a fake smile when he saw Britannia rising over the horizon. He was born from a bloodline known for keeping secrets, but his lovely little spot in the sea, his place of meditation that took him to places of which others could not even dream... that secret he would take beyond the grave.

It only took two words to cross his mind before he was shoved back into the reality that was the existance he had once nearly held in this realm:

"I'm back."

A chill crept over him. Who is that speaking, he couldn't help but wonder... ...me, or him? With a deep breath he gave the word to himself, the only reassurance that he would be accepted on this world, the only proof that he could survive here. There is no him. He is gone, and always will be. This is my time, not his. There is no legacy, no lineage, no bloodline, no curse... those days are over.

And he knew it to be true. The blood of his fathers would never again taint the world of Britannia. The curse that had plagued his family for generations stretching beyond the destruction of the city that was his family's home centuries ago. He knew it to be true. Those days were over. There was only him.

There is only me.

The ship was close enough to shore that any fisherman minding his own business could see the crest sewn into the sails. It was an unusual crest, not seen in many ages. It was the crest that the man's family had sought for generations; the crest that after years of searching he had finally uncovered, sparking his return to the lands of Britannia.

Waves broke in ice-white foam on the sides of the rebuilt Celtic Wind, and before long the ship was docked in Serpent's Hold. Before nightfall the crew was celebrating in the local tavern as the captain of the ship visited the nearby bank, searching his deposit chest for the runebook he had left behind nearly ten years ago. Running his finger from page to page he finally stopped at one entry, recognizing the ancient druidic rune before the entry written in common language... his first destination.

The city of Blackrock.

The first of three destinations, he thought, before I begin to settle in.

Dameon Skye had a lot of explaining to do before he could get comfortable.
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