_March 6th, Year of the Golden Scales; Day 18:_

_Today marks the eighteenth day I have been lost at sea. Goddamnit all._

_The ocean drags my ship away, then, it refuses to return me to my land, but instead, sends a storm my way, as if to slap me in my face. Do the gods of the water and sky wish to see me die an early death from anger?_

_Once again, my supplies are low. I expect to not make the trip back to my village._

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_March 7th, Year of the Golden Scales; Day 19:_

_Thank the grace of the world!_

_Today, the fierce storm continued, wrecking my ship. The gods loathe me, but the world desires not my death. It has sent an angel to save me!_

_The hand of the water god pulled me down into the depths of his domain (a tyrannous being he is!) but I have escaped his grasp and survived, making it onto shore to tell the world of his evil deeds! I am triumphant, though, I must be truthful, my survival was not by my own efforts. _

_Fortune, in the form of a beguiling existence of the sea, was my guide._

_As inconceivable as the concept may be, and as mad as I may seem, I swear, it is the utmost truth._

_I shall never speak falsities of my savior._

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_March 8th, Year of the Golden Scales; Day 20:_

_This will be the last entry of this journal._

_Originally, I had begun keeping records of my days in hopes a passing sailor would find this journal once the shade had claimed me, and perhaps, tell of my story to my friends and family at home to ease their anxious hearts._

_Now that I am back home, however, I have no need for it._

_I only hope to describe my first encounter with my savior, for if this journal ever finds its way into the hands of another, they may too praise this beautiful being._

_I witnessed my savior as I was on my last breath. I was torn apart by the storm and falling deep into the sea. Scarce was the air, cold was the water, and rapidly fading was my vision._

_In the murky depths of the waters, that was when his light appeared, golden, arresting, and celestial. Like the glorious North Star of the cosmic night sky, I was drawn in by it._

_Miraculously, my breath recovered._

_My body was instantly healed of the wounds from the sea, and there, I saw the visage of an angel. Eyes as mystical and opulent as a gemstone of translucent amethyst, and locks as fair and ethereal as the wispy clouds above._

_Never had I seen an appearance so enchanting and enigmatic. The loveliest woman of the fairest land could not be compared to his divine existence._

_Despite that, what I first saw of him was not even the whole of of his beauty._

_I was stolen away, carried to the surface in his arms with incredible speed. Though swift, it allowed me an opportunity to observe with greater precision his ethereal appearance. Entering my vision was a fishtail of resplendent gold. It was shimmering, iridescent in all shades of yellows and oranges, like a swelling sun in the blue sea._

_Our meeting was brief, for the moment my feet touched land, he disappeared, but his existence was forever engraved into my heart._

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Nimble fingers flipped the pages of the journal with graceful ease.

Yellowed, worn, and sun-dried, the pages blurred the reverent words upon them, past encounters with water distorting the neat penmanship. Despite the state of the journal, however, a pair of lavender eyes still traced over every single word with care and affection.

"So, this was how we met..."

His finger gently stroked the last line on the last page.

"I'm sorry. You never forgot me, but I could not do the same for you."

The old journal was closed. Having been through many years of existence, its fragile binding was treated with tender care as it was placed onto the shelf.

Each touch was soft and delicate, and the current owner of the journal hoped the relic would continue to exist—to remain a reminder for the last century of his time in the world.

Every time he opened its pages, the image of the true owner's face could be reignited in his memory, and the happenings of their first encounter could be relived once more.

There was no better fulfillment than this, and no better encouragement to hold out just a little longer until reunion.