Angels of the Sea

Chapter One
I looked upon the sea which I so yearned for. It was enchanting, wonderful. If I could just reach out towards it I knew my life would be fulfilled. Did I care if I was spotted by anyone? Of course not, for I was no longer Sappire del Dolores Pablo, now I lived as simply Sapphire.

Let me recall the events of my life before I recklessly jump into which I may not ever return. This could very well be the end of my being and I am prepared. I have been told to confess to a God I did not believe in. No selfish deity will get my reverance. The old life of religion is behind me.

I was born in 1484, Spain to the wealthy town magistrate Don Pablo. Our little town of Sán Mánta was never overly excited but it was home. We lived in a large estate just outside the twon and we were content, atleast me and Mama. I remember how she used to sing to me when I was very little. Also how she would tell me stories about angels and the sea. I was entranced by these accounts, never able to grasp reality.

Of course Papa disapproved of such "intolerable nonsense". I always remembered he and Mama having frequent arguements. I could see the flames in there eyes burn intensely. These arguements were always about me. I was a different sort of child. I never once took to the proper "lady-like" manner Papa imposed on me but rather a life as an adventorous soul. I can sense he was worried about my health. I thought nothing of this. I had made plans to travel across the world by seven.

This possibly sparked from when I first saw the sea. It was just as beautiful as Mama had told me. Sán Mánta was far inland and I never knew what this "sea" was. Mama came from a port town where she would always see the sailors leave. The reason for being there was the voyage of Christopher Columbus. I was only eight at the time but I knew whole-heartedly how important this expedition was to Sénor Columbus. I would have loved to be on the crew that was to sail around the entire world but, alas, I could not.

Mama smiled as she saw the glint in my eye when the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria set sail. She would take me closer to the dock and I felt the wind blow in my face, wind catching my hair. I felt free. Columbus vowed he would find a pass to India travelling west rather than east. I was caught up in that idea. I liked the sense of a round world. It seemed...magical at the least. Mama would always love to hear my stories about the impossible adventures I would take. Papa on the other hand...

Papa was ruthless. He was a cruel, large, terrifying man. His eyes were a dark brown and full of fury. His majestic figure. He was mascular, broad-shouldered with a heavily streaked face. His blueish-black hair always neatly combed down. His apparent moustache and thin goatee covering his weak chin. He intimidated me. Mama was the exact opposite. She was so soft, so delicate. She was dainty with a pointed chin and striking features that would make anyone's heart melt. She had beautiful black eyes and long, dark, wavy hair that flew about her. She would make the plainest clothes look marvellous. Her eyes could analyse all and she would know exactly what you were thinking. I loved Mama and hated Papa.

I, thankfully, had inherited my mother's looks, except I had sea-green eyes and, where as she had godess-like beauty, a slightly more "adventerous" look. It was the "knowing" appearance, the intelligent featues. The plainer I looked the better. Papa always hated everything about me right down to my books. He longed for a son. When Mama was bussy with other things I would take to to my room and study. This is how I aquired the knowledge of far off lands, and lands closer home as well. I loved to learn. Me and Mama also had an interest for music while Papa would do boring paperwork. When Mama died the music stopped...