Water lapping up against the sides of creaking wood resounds from all sides, and an itchy burlap blanket scratches what skin is not covered in dirty and ripped clothes. When your eyes are opened, all you will see is darkness - and then from above, there is light.
It is day above the deck of the ship you are apparently on, you will find, if you choose to stand and walk up the rickety steps. You move along with a hundred other individuals that had been down there with you, all of them looking as disheveled as you do. If you do not budge, rest assured that one of the guards standing off to the side - those tall men in elegant uniforms reminiscent of 18th century naval officers armed with bayonets - will be more than happy to force you above.
And when you do come, the salty sea air fills your nose, strong enough to sting. The air is heavy, damp and hot. Gulls caw above, and to the east, there is an endless expanse of water, the occasional island in the distance, but to the west... to the west, there seems to be a grandiose and elaborate coastal city. With a colorful melange of people bustling to and fro across the docks and on the mainland, elegant Victorian architecture, wrought iron fences and rickety shacks side by side, all of it dappled and framed with various tropical flora of impressive beauty. It's like a painting.
It is the New World. At least, that's what you overhear, if there's a language you manage to pick out, from the bustling crowds as you step off the ship, that you can recognize.
But what are you here for? Where's your world? The Child-Queen Immaculada will tell you it is but the will of God that brought you here, but whether that is true or not is for you to discover.
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