\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/02\/TUS-ebook-thumb.jpg\")
<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nThe sea-soaked wood of the pier groaned under Enoch\u2019s boots as he walked out onto the dock. He squinted, eyes stinging a little in the salty breeze as he peered out across the bustling harbor. Fat merchant caravels sat low in the water as they crawled into port, dockhands rushing to secure them. Elsewhere, sailors hauled heavy sacks of trade goods down to the docks, or rolled barrels of supplies up the narrow gangplanks for the ships that were preparing to depart. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Enoch Ashenford took a deep breath. Few ports on the Azure Sea buzzed with the raw, desperate energy of the capital of the kingdom of Caravelia. Many a merchant prince had made his fortune here, and many a man with little to his name had rewritten his own story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So why did he feel so thoroughly out of place?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He fished the letter of introduction from his waistcoat pocket. The elegant script had smudged a little at the corners from nervous handling, but the words on the parchment were still clear. Our son is of sound mind and steady hand,<\/em> he read, taking encouragement from the words. He has a promising magical talent and will serve you well in the position of sea mage.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Of course, it wasn\u2019t just the endorsement that had landed him the position. His father had had to pull some high-placed favors to get it. Not that Enoch wasn\u2019t qualified, of course\u2014as the only one in his family to be born with magical talent, he had worked hard to cultivate it with what meager resources the dwindling family wealth could acquire. But few young mages landed a berth quite so lucrative as a merchant caravel so early in their apprenticeship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He tucked the letter away, hoping it would dutifully impress the captain. The morning air was thick with the stench of old fish and burning pitch, the unlovely aroma of commerce. Enoch drew another sharp breath and squared his shoulders before setting out to find the ship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He pretended not to notice the stares and glances aimed his way. It was rare for a noble scion to set foot on these docks, let alone seek employment on a common merchant. His mother had insisted on dressing him well, in fine leather boots and a silk tunic, but these made him stand out almost as much as his pale, untanned skin and soft hands. He also had all his teeth, which was more than he could say of many of the men he passed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was frustrating, because if any of these gawkers looked closer, they would see the threadbare patches on his tunic and pants, the cracks and creases in the ageworn leather of his belt and boots. A noble son he might be, but the battered satchel slung over his shoulder held little of real value. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He stopped to get his bearings. It seemed like the forest of masts and sails stretched almost to the horizon. Somewhere among them was the merchant ship that would be his ticket to wealth and glory\u2014if he could only find the blasted thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMake way,\u201d a grizzled sailor shouted, carrying a large barrel on one shoulder. Enoch tried to get out of his way, but the man still nearly knocked him off his feet, swearing as he did so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOuch!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWatch yourself, young lordling. This is no place for soft hands and slippered feet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Blood rushed to Enoch\u2019s cheeks. \u201cI\u2019m not a \u2018lordling,\u2019\u201d he muttered under his breath. \u201cJust the seventh son of a penniless house.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was no use, of course. These common folk probably all thought that all nobles were rich. But Enoch\u2019s noble birth had been more of a burden than a blessing. His older brothers had already divided up the Ashenford house\u2019s few minor titles, barely managing to secure respectable positions and marriages for themselves. Even Carl, the second youngest in the family, had received a captain\u2019s commission in the King\u2019s Fleet. But by the time Enoch had come of age, the Ashenford house\u2019s coffers had run as dry as a salt pan at high noon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The manor still stood, of course. One couldn\u2019t exactly pawn bricks and stone. But the paintings and tapestries had been sold, then the family silver, then most of the furniture. His mother wore the same gown to every court function, cleverly disguising the fact with slight alterations made by her own hands. As for his father, he spent most of his days in the family library, poring over the same old tomes\u2014as if the secret to restoring the family\u2019s fortune could be found in books alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No. Enoch had had enough of that dusty old manor, and he had no patience for the duties and pretenses of the court. He\u2019d be damned before he gave up and turned around, even with all the snickering glances and gawking stares. He thought again of the letter of recommendation in his pocket, resisting the urge to take it out. If he could just find that blasted ship\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou look a bit lost, lad,\u201d a voice called out. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t happen to be young Master Ashenford, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enoch turned to see a burly clean-shaven man in a leather apron, a crooked grin splitting his wind-chapped face. Sun and sea had tanned his skin to the color of old rope, which was almost as tough and leathery as the apron he wore. He swayed a little where he stood, and his shrewd eyes shone with the keenness of a man who had spent most of his life at sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI might be,\u201d Enoch hedged. \u201cWho\u2019s asking?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMarcus Reed, ship\u2019s cook of the Waverunner.<\/em> Captain sent me to fetch our new sea mage. That\u2019d be you, I\u2019d reckon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enoch nodded, extending his hand. \u201cThat\u2019s right. Pleased to meet you, Marcus.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man took it and gave him a single shake before gesturing toward the dock. Enoch quickly fell into step with his confident gait, grateful to have a guide to his new berth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo,\u201d Marcus asked, breaking the silence between them, \u201cwhat brings a young nobleman to life at sea? Chasing adventure? Seeking your fortune?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cA little of both,\u201d Enoch admitted. \u201cAs the seventh son, it\u2019s not like I\u2019ve got much of an inheritance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAh,\u201d said Marcus, chuckling dryly. \u201cWell, the sea\u2019s a great leveler, lad. Noble or commonfolk, it\u2019s all the same when the storms hit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCall me Marcus. We\u2019re mates now, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRight,\u201d said Enoch, nodding. \u201cAnd I guess you can call me Enoch. Like you said, the sea\u2019s a great leveler.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Waverunner<\/em> sat moored at one of the last piers. Enoch felt his breath catch as his eyes fell upon it. The sturdy single-masted caravel creaked a little as it swayed gently at the dock. Sixty feet of weathered oak, with a dark, waterlogged hull that had clearly seen many voyages. Despite her elegant curves, the salt and sun had clearly had their way with the wood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou there!\u201d a commanding voice rang out from the upper deck. \u201cThe new mage?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enoch looked upward, meeting the gray eyes of a woman whose gaze held the relentless intensity of a hawk. She stood with confident poise, her graying hair pulled back into a tight braid, and her weather-beaten face held the sort of authority that needed no crown or title.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cEnoch Ashenford, Ma\u2019am,\u201d he answered, straightening his posture. \u201cI\u2019m to be your new sea mage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t just stand there, lad. Come let me get a look at you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He quickly climbed the narrow gangplank, ignoring how his stomach lurched. Once on board, he withdrew the letter of introduction and handed it to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFor you, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Captain Maren Black plucked the letter from his hands and stuffed it into her waistcoat, barely giving it a glance. Instead, she looked him over from head to toe. Her eyes narrowed, making Enoch swallow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHmm,\u201d she muttered\u2014a sound that could have meant anything. \u201cEver worked a ship before?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ve studied maritime magic extensively, ma\u2019am. My family\u2019s library\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s a no, then.\u201d She turned away. \u201cMarcus! Show the boy where to stow his gear. Thaddeus, check those lines again. They look slack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The pit in Enoch\u2019s stomach fell\u2014a pit that until now, he hadn\u2019t realized was there. Like a dog with his tail between his legs, he quickly followed Marcus across the wooden deck and down into the hold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow large is the crew?\u201d he asked the burly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJust five of us,\u201d Marcus answered cheerily, ducking as they passed through the door. \u201cCaptain Black, First mate Thaddeus, Felix, yourself, and me. But what we lack in manpower, we\u2019ll more than make up for in your magic. Right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRight,\u201d said Enoch, swallowing nervously. Just what had he gotten himself into? Seeing his discomfort, Marcus chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ll do fine, friend. Think of it this way: the fewer of us to crew the ship, the greater each man\u2019s share of the profits.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n That was a good point, though it did little to quell Enoch\u2019s growing anxiety. He also couldn\u2019t help but notice how rough and calloused Marcus\u2019s hands were to his own. With only five of them, he\u2019d have to work hard to earn his keep, and not just with book learning and magic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis is where you\u2019ll bunk,\u201d Marcus announced, pointing to a cramped berth with a nod of his head. He leaned casually against the doorframe, folding his arms atop his leather apron. \u201cThis your first time at sea?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enoch\u2019s cheeks burned. \u201cIs it that obvious?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry, lad. You\u2019ll find your sea legs soon enough. The sea\u2019s a harsh mistress, and an even harsher teacher.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enoch drew a sharp breath and nodded. A harsh mistress indeed,<\/em> he told himself silently, but one I intend to master.<\/em> As Marcus watched, he quickly unpacked his meager belongings, making space near the head of his bunk for the two most valuable pieces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThose look interesting,\u201d Marcus remarked. \u201cFamily heirlooms?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGifts from my parents,\u201d Enoch explained. He unsheathed the dagger his father had given him and tilted it in the gleam of the candlelight. \u201cThe edge is inlaid with silver. It\u2019s supposed to let it cut through magical shields and wards.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus raised an eyebrow. \u201cAnd the amulet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He pulled out his mother\u2019s amulet, fashioned from a spiral shell and hanging from a leather cord. \u201cThis one is called the Whispering Shell. It doesn\u2019t look like much, but it\u2019s enchanted with a powerful spell that helps the one who wears it to translate foreign speech.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo it lets you understand what the people around you are saying?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat, and it makes the bearer\u2019s speech intelligible to all who hear. Like I said, it\u2019s a powerful spell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus whistled appreciatively. \u201cNow that\u2019s a rare piece of work. Must have cost a pretty penny.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n More than my family could afford,<\/em> Enoch thought but didn\u2019t say. His mother had pawned her grandmother\u2019s emerald brooch to raise the funds, one of the last valuable pieces the family possessed. Instead of saying that, though, he simply nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy family wanted me to have every advantage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAye\u2014and they\u2019ll serve you well, I\u2019d wager. Though not half as well as a sturdy pair of sea legs and a strong stomach.\u201d Marcus grinned and slapped his back. \u201cThough we\u2019ll be giving you those in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThanks. I\u2019ll keep that in mind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus turned and left then, his footsteps creaking along the old, wooden floor of the deck. Enoch watched him for a moment, then carefully tucked the dagger and amulet away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He thought of his mother, pawning a priceless family heirloom to buy him this chance. His father, struggling to maintain the fiction of their wealth while the walls grew bare around him. Seven sons, and the seventh was their last hope for something more than genteel poverty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The thought hardened Enoch\u2019s will until the pit in his stomach no longer seemed so terrible. He would not fail them. He could not afford to. He would stay on this ship and win his own fortune, restoring the family name and making his own way in this world. All of his doubts, all of his misgivings\u2014it was time to throw those away. He was not just the overlooked son. It was time to become something more.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I’m working on another Sea Mage Cycle book right now, alternating between the AI revisions (where I generate multiple iterations of each chapter using the same prompts, and combine the best parts for the final AI draft) and humanizing the AI draft to produce the rough human draft. So far, it’s working out really well.… Continue reading Excerpt: The Unknown Sea, Chapter 1<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1806,1829],"tags":[1679,474],"class_list":["post-22023","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sea-mage-cycle","category-the-unknown-sea","tag-ai-assisted-writing","tag-excerpts","entry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7iXK-5Jd","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22023","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22023"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22023\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22025,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22023\/revisions\/22025"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22023"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22023"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22023"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}